There is no fire left in the belly
No passion to unleash.
The ravenous hunger broke its teeth on time
Replaced by a constant ache
That dulls the eyes.
My Muse followed Hope wherever it is going,
Destination unknown,
Far away where the air vibrates
With each peal of laughter,
Moans of pleasure,
And contented sighs;
Where the bluest skies
Meet the greenest trees
And touch gently in whispers.
My Muse follows the sun
Smiling at lovers.
She left me again in a gray and silent house,
Gazing at death,
Watching its grip tighten in white knuckles
On fragments of thoughts,
Senseless, empty chuckles,
Cryptic gestures and vacant stares.
My Muse left me
To contemplate the end of the line.
As she stepped out the door
She shrugged and without mercy said:
“Deal with it.”
Photo credit: blinkingidiot / Foter.com / CC BY-ND
unbuttoned or undone 
Those damn muses … or is that musii? They just take off whenever they feel like it with no regard for the person they are leaving. If I see it, I will send it back to you
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Thank you Alastair… She may need some coaxing though, so be ready. ;-)…
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I’ll lasso her 😉
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🙂
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Max Granky’s wife said the same thing…. 🙂
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She ought to know…. 😉
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Ta muse s’en fout, eh?
Ton poeme est triste et puis il est drole, mais toujours il est bon!
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Oui. Ma muse s’amuse et cela ne m’amuse pas.
Mais si le poeme t’a quand meme amuse et tu le trouves bon, peut etre qu’elle a bien fait?
Merci UnElephant.
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How do we ensure the fire doesn’t die?
And how do we fire up the passions?
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To the first question: Be present.
Inattention, indifference, silence, absence are what kill passion for me Noel. It is easier to say what kills it than what fires it up. Surprisingy little can get it started .
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I’m bereft. The clutching of empty hands.
rjb
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Sorry rj. Yes. Empty hands.
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Ouch. Let me guess, it’s pouring rain there today?
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Nope. A beautiful day in Medville but it feels like no joy in Mudville.
A death watch is no party and my muse wants to dance.
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Ah, your dad’s not well? That is indeed bleak.
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No. Losing his mind and cognitive abilities faster than I can write the words. How much longer?
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Are you asking me how much longer?
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No. It’s rhetorical outloud thinking… How much longer does he have? I really hate to see him waste away.
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It’s a heartbreaking thing to watch, made only worse by the fact that there’s really nothing one can do.
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Fire her for poor job performance and insubordination. The labor market is flooded with other muses looking for work.
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Send me some resumes please.
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haha naw, ya gotta get up, and go down to the corner to grab a day laborer. the change of scenery and conversation is an amazing combo
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The Muse can be a cruel mistress and an unreliable slave.
Superbly done – so you are not deserted completely
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Thank you D. I am always grateful for your praises. Smiles.
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