A/Muse Me/You

could be broken into shorter lines, but I am not doing it

sharp metaphors shower down silver bullet stilettos
click click clicking on polished concrete tablets, wet
alive revived new ways of blood-letting it all go, baby can you hear it?
I can hear rats tat tat on window pains cold forged barbs aimed
at steely-hearted souls and hard-hearted heels who are our muses
courted, vied for like '(my) first draft (is finished, baby) players'
well known for skills honed in fields strewn with fine minds
that just need a poke to explode heart for art's sake

tough oft rough traded woo pitching muses wanted to keep full
acid-tongue tipped styluses, etching more muse infused, scripted venom

we demand all their waking / sleeping sensations to be directed at us
for the hours we need to begin breathing on our own again.
they are a fix, a tool, night school refresher course- not obsessions
we know where they begin and we control their ends- grains of sand
in our heads, sometimes beds hoping for cultured pearls not just stains
mental quickies desiring to inspire should read the caveat lector line before they sign
there are no guarantees of kindness of any kind just a merry go-go around
of peeling back facades, blaring reflections of each other, virtually
all over, the closer the better, pages soaked with money shots don't reveal the players
so they are reusable like stock images to which we all own the rights

muse, amused or abused with no promises of privacy just emotional piracy
high jacked for high times then be set free willingly with no regrets
just on to the next emotional wrecking party

your tableau is waiting

Reviews

[JR]

Ilene, there's a huge difference, I think, between the poem that is born on the page, then refined to be spoken, and the poem that is born on the lips, then written down. This is of the latter category, and is just amazing. Oh, the ANGER, the rage! You have such a great sense of sound, "click click clicking," "rats tat tat," these descriptions hum and pop, they draw the reader in and echo in their heads, working backwards to the ear. So nicely done, and such an art.

As far as the intro lines go, they are very effective, especially with images like, "silver bullet stilettos," and, "current new ways of blood-letting," this all comes through the screen so clearly... and your reader takes notice.

I have nothing to suggest to improve this, Ilene, it comes at the reader fast and hard, and you don't need to be speaking for your voice to translate. It reads well the first time, so much the rant, and gives off more and more depth with each subsequent reading (I read it four times before the review, and will read it, uh, probably forty more times before I'm done). That's the Gift right there, in a nutshell...

[M R Johnson]

For all of its ambiguity, I can hear the rythm in each line without needing to hear it preformed. It's the kind of undeniable music that must be this way, and never that way, because it is so obviously perfect for this way. It's almost impossible to misinterpret something so deliberate, not beautiful, not perfect, but deliberate.
Cheers.

- M.R.

[Jack Frost]

my head hurts, in a very good way

[Jess Myers]

I love the word play throughout this piece. It shows a real wit and I like that a lot. I will say that this isn't my favorite of your poems, I think because it's a little abstract for my liking. I like concrete snippets of life story in a poem, like the one where you ran away as a toddler, so that I can really connect to it, and I don't get that so much from this one. Still, you'll get a well-deserved five stars for having fun with the language. It's still a fine read.

[Yira Simone]

What a chore/desire it is to write and put all our feelings out in the open. I loved how you showed our muses inspire us, entertain and destroy us if allowed to. We put ourselves out their for all the world to take free of charge...joining in with the "others" before us. This was very well written and I'm glad I got a chance to read this piece.

[John(agudwun)]

Sometimes I just don`t get it. This is a confession from someone who writes about love and violence. I only wish to have the capacityto appreciate what you are saying. Since I am inept, I read all of the reviews concluding that you are a very special writer and this is one of your more important works. With my confession out of my system I will read your poem again and again and and comment when it becomes clear to me.The style and technique are exquisite, for that you get My rating: FIVE STARS

[The Guerrilla Warhol]

well i know that whom doesnt apply to objects. haha
i guess its just unclear to me as to what (or to whom) you are referring.
the pages, or the players?
i get what youre saying, and its fantastic.
just needs clarification to sit well, i think.

and no need for thanks. its a lot harder to write such things
than it is to judge them. feel free to pick apart something of mine.

[The Guerrilla Warhol]

"well known for skills honed in fields strewn with fine minds
that just need a poke to explode heart for art’s sake"

i've never done spoken word, but it really does add a whole new element.
that good poetry when read, its better when spoken.
love it.

stock images to WHOM we all own the rights?
think about it, maybe not.
thats one of my favorite lines, but i just saw that and it stuck out.

[Liam Sweeny]

This is hot. That's all I'm gonna say..

[Six Impossible Things]

So great to hear you read this. eeee (Squealing like a piglet)

[Natase J. Hopkins]

Lush just wanted to let you know that your work can only be summed up in a word, powerful. I really like to read poetry that has depth and that speaks with a sense of keen volume.