Here you can post YOUR OWN poems, prose, music, or art inspired by the 'Muses nine'.

Moderators: Saturn, Malia


Postby Saturn » Tue Dec 05, 2017 1:29 am


"Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again. Here will I dwell, for heaven is in these lips, And all is dross that is not Helena".
- Christopher Marlowe.

An enigma when new
Your unexpected drift
Knocked me from an
Orbit I was already
Spinning away from.

Yet no hard collision,
No bumpy ride or
Clash of sensibility.
My first encounter
Was unimpressive:

Unimpressed, I left
The trajectory for
Others to fix, while
I tried to bluff and
Plot missions new.

This is a wandering
Star that's strayed,
Bright, gold-laden
Comet blazing too
Close to surfaces

I didn't even know
I had grown. Light
Finds a way into
Every crevice, no
Measure of steel

Can resist entire
The piercėd arrows
Of the cherub's bow.
The girl least likely
For me to ever know.

Quicksilver, a swift flash
Of brightness spoiled me:
A hit that no dealer before
Or since can sell me on.
I'm still on withdrawal.

I keep a telescope open,
Unconsciously so [I tell
Myself, lying/hopeless]
Trained for a glimpse
Of such a trailblazer,

For a once-a-lifetime
Convergence of stars,
For a miracle, a sight
Of a golden headed
Smiling beacon fire.
"Oh what a misery it is to have an intellect in splints".
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