This Cosmic Something
you might be
able to stop
vertical planes
from tilting
and gravity
but I can’t
halt my mind
take off
my blindfold
of the
future
or see
where we are
going
Love,
Muse
Archive for December, 2009
Unlisted
Posted in poetry, tagged destiny, emotion, free verse, identity, life, Love, meaningful living, philosophy, poetry, relationships, solitude, soulmates, souls, space, the future on December 30, 2009| Leave a Comment »
Ant Trap Wisdom Files
Posted in poetry, tagged body image, emotion, free verse, identity, insomnia, life, relationships, solitude on December 15, 2009| Leave a Comment »
Antiphony
I locked the door
on which identity still
knocks.
you, poseur with my
face.
tell everybody
to call off their dogs
reign in
their sympathetic
head tilts
and just let
me fly
til I’m
free.
Love,
Muse
Do it True.
Posted in poetry, tagged adoration, being in love, boyfriends, destiny, emotion, free verse, identity, life, life experience, Love, love poems, meaningful living, my other half, partners, poetry, relationships, romance, significant others, soulmates, souls, true love, writing on December 6, 2009| Leave a Comment »
This Part
he’s sitting on my toes
melting their ice-
that Love I have.
strong hands that
cradle the feet I drop in
his lap during slow evenings.
lips that chase
my cheek
shoulder
nose that seeks the
nook of my neck
holder of the
lungs that quietly move
his chest up and
down at night.
as I nest
next to my sleeping
half.
I sometimes wonder where he
came from
Mars, or some planet
that manufactures
beautiful souls.
it does seem
that.
his is forged from
gold.
Oh I Am
so
lost.
in.
him.
Love,
Muse
Inky Point
Posted in poetry, tagged autobiography, books, bugs, butterfly, coping, creativity, emotion, free verse, identity, life, meaningful living, missed opportunities, nature, philosophy, poetry, script, song, souls, Wildlife, words, writing on December 2, 2009| 1 Comment »
Memoir
and I said there
is a butterfly
inside me
holding on
to the edges of my veins
curled and furled
in the hope
that the right words
will water and grow it
that flutterbug
into a velvet book
shivering script
into prose
trembling to
form a mountain
Then.
sprouting
in the mouth
of the pretty beast
will be the Silver Song
of its own
secret sighing soul.
Love,
Muse
From The Diary of An Unlisted Muse 