I deleted another poem tonight
and the Muse raged into fury
“You never asked for my permission” she said,
as her voice thundered deeply inside
“You’ll pay for this in sleepless hours
and nights when dreams are truant…”
Her promises kept, my nights defiled,
and days drag on untethered
As I write yet another “I’m sorry” to her
in verse both coarse and dry
(The New Room: May, 2022)
A Blinding Refrain
Tuning letters like strings
the words are reformed
The rhyme and the meter
the rhythm reborn
Each vowel and each consonant
together in line
No commas or periods
to block or confine
The meaning inherent
and left unexplained
restated once over
a blinding refrain
To put in the file
the future in bold
the verses in couplets
—the reading on hold
(Dreamsleep: May, 2022)
-
Author:
Kurt Philip Behm (
Offline) - Published: May 28th, 2022 10:04
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 13
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Offline)
Comments4
The plight of the poet so well told. A very engaging write.
Thanks Bella, she's a Dominatrix.
Poesy, as Dominatrix
rings a truth
my stuttering fingertips
recognise..
our qwerty keys, sizzle
at times
both
from heat of fervent, inspiration
and
that Antarctic abandonment of muse
where, we stay up
longing for Poesy's touch, just
one more time:
(from Wordsworth's very last published Ode
but written decades before his death:
'Doth the same tale repeat:
Whither is fled the visionary gleam?
Where is it now, the glory and the dream?')
https://mypoeticside.com/show-classic-poem-34702
Thanks LB, great commenting as usual.
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