Muse

Muse

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silence needs only whispers

upon nights alone the clock ticking til valentine's day

haunting absence not attainment

like failure to success

my muse a conglamoration of forms needing

repaying lost loves

voices ghosts like to play

unto cool and sensuous foray

and so i am forgetting

we're together for the moments of love

my pen and my paper

this need for god above

my muse, my unreal girlfriend

i am holding a bed in

against my depression

about your absence

i am inviting it into bed

for a chat

and a discussion

       and tea

all completely imaginary of course

let us try to hold love and imagination in our fingers

its sifting lesson

it may make me a gentleman

or a boxer

and we fall into

modes of laughing

   feeling like kids again

 people like me people like us call that illumination

  by softness, by night stars, by artificial light

my truest love

one day you will be gone altogether dear

and all i will have is the grip and the silence

bursts of love

in my pen containing fingers

but in the very thought of you is love

which will become all i do see

this i anticipate and feel envy of minimalism

chaining my inner child genius

slave or servant

but it remains talking

it listens for your silent whisper

and celebrates only

the common ways of man

irrepressable too

and it is the happiest voice in the world

that only asks me

have i ever loved

and i know i have

much more than our kiss

i miss the way our love saw the world

to lose a frend named muse is to lose

the begginning and the end in your brain

the only madness

is feeling the silence of your soul

i return to living ways

and when i think about things like suicide deaths

or the holocausts

i remember all of the people throughout history

their voices, views and souls, their irrepressible memory

and it tells me what i've always been told

the beauty at the heart of the created worlds

you are what you make of yourself

  

     and though i am one alone

knowing inexplicable absense

i choose to believe God listens

because

i have been known for silence

arms open

to

immortal truth beauty and life

yet i fear my

mind has melted

for here i am longing for random touch

 first the pretty smiles

 then the poetry burns

in the absense of poetic muse

that becomes

a transformation

after a long journey

bringing the light back into darkest dire deeds done

  when humankind fails the iq test of justice

o how we share these skies

and stars and suns and worlds

and underneath them dream

raging for that moment of creation

that lovely moment

of

mystery

and wish to know another truly

lovely

pigheaded