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A letter to my Muse

baby baby

how do you do it?

speak the language
of windsong and birdword
and can still be interpreted
by the mind of the admiring ignorant

i've began counting on
fingers the amount of times
you've surpassed my expectations
i've becoming amazingly
ambidextrous in the process

you've given me the gift of
words wrapped in angel glitter
and cloud paper. what can a woman
(that doesn't speak to buddha or allah)
do with that kind of spirituality?

or even more, what do i do
with words that can drive a
grown woman to tears but yet
still end up beyond her
level of love comprehension?

it's like trying to raise an infant
on the writings of nietzche and freud alone

or maybe, its like the fear felt
reading revelations in the darkness of
a church. only the "aspect" of hope
holding up all the other words of
imminent destruction

hope is there somewhere
but you just can't comprehend it yet

but baby i became a scripture
eating apostle after just one verse

how do you do that thing you do?

and how can i possibly survive
hanging on the tail of a white comet
this long and not burn like a
mound of black love incense

i cannot eat from the earth's
cold floor like you do
i cannot regurgitate its
goodness into linguistic
morsels for the needy to
feast on the way you do

i'm just not fast enough for you yet
i fall behind holding my side
and my eyes bleed after eyeing
your words for too long

i feel the need to take
my shoes off in your presence
because this ground around
you has just got be some kind of holy

how can you find the room in
the valley of those brown eyes to
love a woman that has to borrow her
love and use her soul as collateral
just to say i love you back or bettter yet,
I really like you a helluva lot

baby, how do you do it and keep a straight face?

i have questions. but for now
i will use my borrowed love sparingly
and budget out my blue collar words
like someone holding a handful of
foodstamps in a grocery store line

i hope you have the love
to bear with me. maybe
you can hold my hand like
a child and read me your poems slowly
i'll get there eventually baby. i promise

Reviews

[perfectlymetiKulous]

Awww... I almost used your government on this one, it was so effin' lovely.
I didn't know you had this in you, friend!
This verse:
"but baby i became a scripture
eating apostle after just one verse"
That's crazy... I just adored it. Can mean so many things.
When did you write this?