I...Muse

 

[ I ]
The host of me is sound asleep
This is when deepest most I reach
Till she awakens unaware
From planting of a seedling where
The launching of a thousand ships
Pen on the trade winds many trips.

[ II ]
I am the Mesa where I see
From all directions’ canopy.
I am the rainbow’s lightning rod;
The rainbow is a sign from God
Who is in all things, ne’er forgot,
He gave to thee a skill, thy lot.

Who spreads a spectral light’s embrace
O’er this unclaimed high desert place.
In this, an arid life unmark’d,
Gives reason to the barren rock,
The eagle’s perch, and Joshua
In Winter, Spring, Summer & Fall.

[ III ]
My tawny one with hair of light,
To scan the firebrands of night.
The path you walk unevenly;
You know the ghosts I let you see.
You know me when you’re on your own,
You seek the truth, I am your home.

 
Pestered and pursued  
by unknown foes  
A topsyturvy land  
where snakes can have horns  
and cows can have fangs.  
Night'mares' where the day's stallions  
make mountains out of molehills  

A chance to witness greek mythology-like creatures for real  
For dreamland tis a place for the unreal and surreal.  
 
Those hair-raising scary scary dreams  
beset with horrified silent screams!  
 
We do try to interrupt nightmares, pinching ourselves  
With relief wake up to see there aren't any horrid elves.  
We also try to interpret dreams filled with mystery  
But gifted dream interpreters like prophet Joseph  
Are now part of biblical human history  
 
All in all, dreamland's fascination  
for extra-ordinary exaggeration  
and tall-tale imagination  
 
Where myth and legend come to life  
An amalgam of fiction or real strife  
 
Where assorted monsters of the mind  
reign supreme in that REM sleep of our kind.  
 
Yet on the other hand the wishful, wistful sweet sweet dreams  
where fantasies form mirages bordered by fanciful seams.  
 
Where castles in the air that humans build, float gently down to earth  
only to shoot back up unto nowhere from the awakened one's berth.  
 
In dreamland a pauper girl can be a princess or fairy fair  
for daydreams extend into the night and linger on there.  
 
A quote I took to heart and it to console all and sundry  
'that if your sweet dreams don't come true, don't you fret  
for atleast your nightmares didn't come true either,  
so just heave a sigh, by and by.  
 
Every night let us all just fly away and escape  
And lo behold  the extraordinary world of Dreamscape.

You are flesh
I am pain
post suffering
your words remain

I force the ink
upon the page
granting means
to share your rage

Provoke despair
my sole intent
prompting verse
revealing torment

Igniting grief
forming prose
my inspiration
you do not oppose

Using your ache
I summon misery
affording language
encouraging poetry

Past tragedies
I often peruse
holding my place
your unfortunate muse

  


 
I know..you now at least feign to know & try hard to feel this...  
you karmic shitloaded donkeying dumb braying aloud you worthless wordistic benthic cunt  
you little frizzy draped & redly wrinkled poker-faced puppet of a so untiringly scribbling and  
blabbering ever …so unruly rude & rustic rusted soul ..of a so-called poet?  
 
I agelessly am born in and as you  
puppeteeringly steering your crowning mundane greys in veils of delusionary layers after layers  
all along the swimmed invisibly vacuuming mystical truths in nacreously bubbling rainbow illusions  
until & beyond you will ever know....  
 
I fatally spin your timeless spindles  
of your draconianly non-laconic & gorgeously anti-gregarious truth slut that you are  
you disgruntled bleeding red adamantine of a rebellious radicle versus lies & all vice  
in no financially trickling scopeless debacle to soulless brokers, yet scripting frenetic  
thunderbolts of sloganeered revolution in heart-graffitied tattoos of love & truth  
 
It’s a cyclical destiny...this US the superimposable VICE VERSA …  
when I breathe & beat & boom & bloom… as you as dreams as verses as melancholy  
the sudden noonish rootedness you spread & grip over my stemmed pages reeling in  
brimming emptiness of an atrociously dancing chaos struck & struck & much overwritten  
in ballooned to cratered bursting out impromptu of a  maddeningly rushing nothingness  
where you know there is no right & wrong in the harnessing visage of  what is finally felt  
as filtered decoction ...of your trancing melancholy in the rippling essence of 'you me= us'  
 
this destined divine artistry  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

I exist in a twilight world, a courtyard shadowed from the sun
Not to expose to much at once
And bask in freedoms forms
I am the feet of Fred Astair that cavort across the floor
The cane that taps, top hat tipped
The dry ice that swirls in a mist
 Premier tickets you had in your wish list
Hold your hand and change your mood
The starting pistol to your head
Its not a race a paper chase
You are the compositor I just a "will-o- wisp"
Despair does not come to my door
That mood I leave to those more dower
I am Flash Gordon leaping from a tower
Of Inspirations golden shower
 To streak across the intelect when you least expect
A disembodied vision drawn off line with no precision
The stop and go of a western halt
The sting of words from a catapult
Portrayed CV my right to choose
Colaborate or just hang loose
That trancience a spook a muse

    
Your absolute arrogance  
eclipsed by illogical certainty
Think you solved my mystery?
Come closer, look once more

I'm the juxtaposition of known universes
hidden discovery of uncharted constellations.    
A shooting star eternally illuminating
never-ending darkness.    
   
Harmoniously dissonant    
emotionally logical    
lyrically silent    
serenely violent    
inhumanely compassionate  
divinely mortal  
nonviolent mercenary    
dominantly submissive    
compliantly defiant    
eternally fleeting    
madly lucid    
religiously profane    
hypothetical actuality    
impeccably imperfect    
   
I am the intersection    
explicit collision course    
polar opposites residing    
in positively negative space    
   
Try to label me, I dare you    
It’ll be your last act    
before you’re history.