My muse is a
Goddess gone astray
She has to be
to deal with me
It seems like she's
always there when I need her
Through all my
travails and ups
and downs. She never
complains. Just gives
me support and comfort.
Whispers sweet music
into my ears
She is definitely
a Goddess- - - - - - -
Like Beatrice to Dante
She has captured
my heart and Love
What a pleasure
to have her around
the snake slides in
the snake slides out
the dance is easy
we twist and shout
I stop my muse immediately
there is something wrong that I can see
Cliques! I say in a snotty way
Trixie refuses to speak to me the rest of the day
Idling between abstract and realism.
I strive to strike a fine balance.
Implicit trust in the process.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
My Muse has gone…. taking my Vavoom along
To enjoy a holiday by the sea
They crept away in the dead of night
Without any thought of me
My mind is now blank without my Muse
My motivation nil with no Vavoom
Each day l hope for their safe return
Yet their returning ….l can only assume
I feel frustrated and empty without them
We have been besties for such a long time
I desperately miss my Muse and Vavoom
As without them l can no longer rhyme!
Though many those who court the muse,
There's only few that she will choose.
I wish that my light
Could shine here more bright,
But love unrequited's the news.
Poems preach the depth of dark, sorrowful hearts,
I have heard that this is where creativity starts,
Even when you look for the moon, you get enchanted by the stars.
My muse, the spirit of my pen, is the air to my lungs,
Gush of poetry seeps onto the crisp white paper in timid tongues.
His beauty brightens the raven inside of me, in my brain, the gloomy breeze,
All at once, his appearance brings a dance to the thousand sad and misty trees.
A sorcerer he is or just pure beauty,
Solo moon on a dark evening in some city.
Trixie, my muse, runs screaming through the house with ideas
They bounce off furniture, turning into lightning bolts
The drapes are on fire; she cares not
She if foolish and reckless, a wild child who cannot be tamed
Wild knows wild, my imagination says, laughing at her antics
He and Trixie get along great; they are always cooking up something
Lightning bolts are zinging down the hallway
one misses my head by inches, they both laugh,
They are careless devils, my muse and my imagination
The house is burning down! My husband yells from the front room
We are all in flames before they are finished.
I run toward the shed, carrying my laptop.
They follow me, laughing manically.
Mindless chatter fills the airways
Silence would be welcome in its place
Noise scrambles my creative thoughts
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 1st place 2025
I don’t like you as much as you like me
The wanting to be around every second
Falls foreign to me
I don’t like you as much as
I believe I could
At times you treat me good
Others, I feel completely misunderstood
You see for every bad he does
He tries a bunch of good
But that bad shines brighter than any good could
I do not like you as much
Because all of this was too soon
For it was the virtue of patience
That needed room
Patience for my soul
Needing a muse
That muse not being you
A muse that…
Pushes me over
That edge that I was terrified of going over…
With you
They alter my view
And you…
Wanted to grow in a dark room
Oh, thank you, my darling,
You were the most wonderful muse.
But I’m leaving now, my pen’s out of ink;
Now you’ll know what it’s like to be used.
Trixie, my muse whispered me awake today
pesky as a mosquito, but twice as brazen
I refused to open my eyes; not wanting to encourage her
she gave me the last two lines of a pretty good poem
My eyes popped open, and I unlocked my door
My two pony dogs had been waiting in the hallway to jump me
I had to dance around them to get to the bathroom
By the time I did my business I had forgotten both lines
Trixie, my muse, could not stop laughing
She has the weirdest, meanest sense of humor
part of me settles down for the night
my puppy snuggles down next to me, really tight
I close my eyes, but do not relax at all
My muse is using a megaphone, big and tall
Poems enter my head, they end up in rhyme
these interlopers keep me up, usurp my time
I am trying to rest, I tell Trixie, my muse
She kicks me in the head with her green dancing shoes
I would loan her out, but no one wants to take her
She slides down my arm on a sled of waxed paper
“Give me a break”, I say, “I want to SLEEP!”
What she replies to me must be written out in a bleep.
have you ever coughed so badly that you wet your pants?
Why not pull them down and water your garden plants?
Trixie threw this out onto the page, her little trick.
Sometimes my muse is incredibly slick and sick.
THE LORD IS MY MUSE*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Lord is my muse; I shall not despair.
He giveth me inspiration; he leadeth me to magical waters.
He restoreth my creativity; he float-eth ideas in my mind, for poetry’s sake.
Although I write in the early morning hours and darkness of night, I will remain tireless; for thou art with me; thy energy and enthusiasm comfort me.
We traverse the night together, endlessly seeking the stars. Thou anointest me with metaphors, rhymes, and alliterations; my imagination runneth over.
Surely effortlessly flowing words shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will write in the house of His spirit forever.
*Note: This poem was written for a 2024 Poetry Soup contest in which entrants were to adapt Psalm 23 for writers. My intent, therefore, was not to plagiarize the Bible.
She is my muse
The gentle pause after a long thought
The spark that breaks the silence
When words refuse to come.
Her face
A stanza unfolding
Her body
A sonnet in graceful motion.
There’s something in her smile
Like dawn’s first light
After the darkest night
Clearing the fog in my mind.
She is my muse
My refuge when all is lost
When language falters and falters
She is the opening line of every poem I write.
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