Blame It On The Muse

Do you know what I am saying? I don't know what I am saying. That is what I am saying.

 

Sitting here, my lips so dry

cause my tongue is too tied up

to wet them.

I try to write my emotions

but trembling fingers

create errors

even spell check cannot fix.

Blink twice, swallow once,

inhale… freeze… then exhale.

My mind now as parched as my lips

while she dances away holding the water

in her cupped hands,

I fall to my knees as her hands part.

Walking toward me I bow just to kiss

her drenched boot.

Author's Note

Spur of the moment write.

Reviews

[Emberlorna]

Powerful and affecting.. I really, really love the ending :}

[The Rock And Roll Cowboy(REBEL WITH A CAUSE)]

Thanks you so much :)

[John Stussy]

The muse can be a cruel mistress, holding back inspiration when we crave it then merely letting us have a few drops. Maybe she knows that we need it, it's life giving water to artists after all, and maybe she withholds that precious sustenance purely because she can. This was brilliant man, I really enjoyed this poem.

[The Rock And Roll Cowboy(REBEL WITH A CAUSE)]

Thank you sir, I can't even explain where it came from... I guess the Muse decided to splash me in the face tonight.

[John Stussy]

Can't complain when that happens haha.