The Poet's Omerta

Omerta...hidden from prying eyes
my actions that are not easily divined
I seem efemerally dreamed,
slipping away at dawn's first gleam.

A whisper, barely audible is what you hear,
for a moment you doubt thinking it is absurd
yet once more I interumpt twilight's silence,
as I drift along the night's breeze
conferring my presence with relative ease.

"If you do not hear me speak
does it mean I have not spoken?"
"If I am not a great beauty
does that in turn mean
my beauty is not great?"
"So if you do not see me
does that mean that I do not exist?"

Like a mad man you jump up,
pen and paper always close at hand,
a poetic mania unfolds as if on command
with an urgency that will not be ignored
I ride your imagination, a wild stallion,  
unpredictable, uninhibited inspiration,
only limited by your lack of creative acclimation.

Hahaha....

I am hidden in the annals of your mind
in a place no one can intrude upon to scrutinize,
a figment of your lunatique creation,
a changeable whimsy altered only
by your creative machinations.

You will not speak of me to others
for I am your private fantasy,
your muse, a playmate of your altered reality.
I can be what ever you wish me to be,
your heart's desire or darkest dream,
your dirtiest, nastiest freak
or any combination of these.
I exist only to inspire
your most lurid poetry
or the wisest of litanies,
a whole book of compositions
or the briefest Haiku if need be.

I am with, and for you,
a part of you, perpetually within you.
A secret you keep, never shared with others
fore I author all your fantasies
and shape your daily realities.

I am anything and everything
you can imagine heroine or harpy,
goddess or golem, angel or demon,
faceless and nameless
Whatever you need me to be...

So lover, what will it be tonight?
What manner of inspiration shall I devise
to help you create a new literary opus
or unique poetic diatribe?

Regardless of what the outcome may be
a secret I remain, a conceptuality,
aiding you in the aquisition of poetic acclaim,
concealed and secuesterd within your mind
never discussed with your peers,
and yet well known to those
who write for the public or fanatic readers.

Gypsy Red