Muse

It appears that muses speak

through the poet’s words

It appears that they are Greek

they stemmed from a legend

that we constantly bend…

could my father have been Zeus?

my mother Mnemosyne?

Did you see verses in my eyes?

poetry in my lies? did I inspire you to

delve deeper into your psyche?

Calliope or Erato? whom can

you devour?

None of it is true

yet all of it is how you

see me as a water nymph

say the truth you fucking do.

I can be wickedly cruel

or a spitfire that never sleeps

aches and bleeds for

no one and everyone.

Here, primarily for you.

You see I could remember

everything you ever told me

no books are needed

I’m from ancient Greece

it’s all in my memory

as you decreed.

no computers, no typewriters

no quill pens

no seals

just my lips reciting

your words

and my physical beauty

inspiring your epic poetry.

But all that was from another life

one that glows in golden hue

in a time

where you felt time

in every core of you.

We lived it then

and modern love

has killed all muses

into eating their poet alive.

They go on their knees

now

and wait in a line

for the next one

to come along

and inspire.

once upon a time

i was the only one

that read your eyes

and gave you art.

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27 comments

  1. Eric Syrdal · October 15, 2015

    BEAUTIFUL! WOW! …and now that you mention it, I think we knew each other there. πŸ˜‰

    Liked by 3 people

  2. PRAJJWAL SHARMA · October 16, 2015

    Well justiced. .A new post is waiting for you i.e Loneliness.Please have a look at once.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. dustomundo · October 16, 2015

    I love the concept of this one, Christina! The muse working its way onto every facet out our lives, controlling us and time (if we let it.) Very nicely done!

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Hyperion · October 17, 2015

    Thank you for this Christina! You truly do understand Hyperion’s sturm und drang. πŸ˜‰

    Liked by 1 person

    • Chrissy · October 17, 2015

      I try to understand! I thank you for reading & believing in me. I follow my guts when I write but the real world eats me alive ~πŸ’•

      Liked by 3 people

      • Hyperion · October 17, 2015

        The real world’s appetite for poets is insatiable. It consumes the flesh, feasts on the heart, and picks its teeth with the soul. But, it cannot silence the poet that tells the truth. As Dan Simmon’s wrote, “Poets are the bullets in truth’s bandoleer.” Fire away Chrissy. Your aim is true.

        Liked by 3 people

      • Chrissy · October 17, 2015

        I’d love to frame that. ❀️

        Liked by 1 person

      • Hyperion · October 17, 2015

        You should πŸ˜€

        Liked by 1 person

      • Chrissy · October 17, 2015

        Love this comment btw

        Liked by 1 person

      • Hyperion · October 17, 2015

        Thank you, Chrissy! And, I’m glad you do. My eccentricities come out in my comments and send people running to the shelter. I mean well. πŸ˜‰

        Liked by 1 person

      • Chrissy · October 17, 2015

        I know you do. -)

        Liked by 1 person

      • Hyperion · October 17, 2015

        πŸ™‚

        Liked by 1 person

  5. Geo Sans · October 18, 2015

    Godly Feasts
    ~
    savouring every sound
    chewing bones and
    crunching consonants
    Mmmm

    Liked by 1 person

  6. megdekorne · October 18, 2015

    I so join hands with Hyperion above , ” your aim is true ” Dear Chrissy , you are the golden water nymph , beautiful in every way , your enchanting words a wave I love to surf upon ….hugs , megxxx

    Liked by 4 people

  7. jeocchiuzzi · October 21, 2015

    By the gods, yes!

    Liked by 1 person

  8. thelonelyauthorblog · October 24, 2015

    Love this. I would anoint myself your number one fan; but I am sure I have to get in line.

    Like

  9. Chrissy · December 16, 2015

    Reblogged this on Christina Strigas.

    Like

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