Bemused to Death
In those last three days before
winter kicked in ..
We exchanged a grand total
of fifty-seven words
and eighteen sideways glances ..
But hey, whose counting,
they were nothing but numbers
way back then
and a forced smile, whenever
one might be squeezed in,
would burn, like perma-frost ..
Boy, did they hurt
and like hell, they sure did ..
I am now, a very poor griever
and can’t wait for
a thaw to begin, I just need to
start writing again ..
-
Author:
Neville (
Offline) - Published: October 24th, 2024 01:34
- Comment from author about the poem: Just to avoid any confusion .. this is about what happens when one's muse goes walkabout
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 46
- Users favorite of this poem: Neilton, Cheeky Missy, MendedFences27
Offline)
Comments11
Good write N.
Thank you Steven .. Neville
Neville loved the sly useof wording here in the winter of a relationship the freeze paired with burn and the reference to hell and the burn of either cold or heat is a woven fabric well knit. Yes relationships are seasons and a thaw could be expected unless we are going through climate change and into another ice age. Hope for a thaw and keep writing.
Thanks for the very generous review my friend .. I very much appreciate your consideration of this little scribble .. Neville
Excellent write Nevilie
Many thanks indeed Tony .. Neville
Excellent work here Neville ! Truly enjoyed your poem !!!
Thanks a million Neilton
Well, now this pretty little number begs greedily to be further enlightened, which this genre never does, handily saying much without precisely telling. Lovely and beautifully rendered with a wonderfully haunting poignancy and such striking imagery I'm nearly shivering. Awesome. Thank you for sharing. I've a notion: pour boiling hot maple syrup on it and enjoy the candy it crafts in a jiffy.
A gentleman .. a real one mind, like wot I is never does tell .. but always say's thank you to ladies who give so generously .. Neville
Walkabout, hey? Certainly did help the avoidance of any confusion, for which I personally am 'umbly grateful, Sire.
Me, I pictures it more like a drought, but definitely do gets the tenor of your argument.....
I thought you might show an interest if I used a native antipodean term like walkabout .. I wasn't expecting you to go overboard tho .. cheers Dave, one day
I wallaby more like you 🧱A 🐝 .. get it 😎🐧👍
When I arrive someplace, I do generally try to make the most of it. With respect to inspiration/post, a dustbowl it is in all directions… Thus I must unleash my (LOL) creativity wherever I may be, Think of it like touching earth to relieve the static…..and so on, etc……..
Salute to creative emoji use….👍
When the muse gets loose, we lose the juice. However we lose that inspiration, it hurts for a while and drains our ability to compose. It's a literary "death" that does not last. I have a theory that this aligns with seasonal changes. Negatively going into winter, positively at summer's approach. My attempts to overcome this have been fruitless. It's just how it is, and I live with it. Your poem highlights its global existence. - Phil A.
I've been here before .. and I aint talkin reincarnation .. cheers for the insight & understanding Phil .. Neville
That muse will be back as they always are Neville.
Andy
Got' cha or should I say her 👍
Excellent, Neville. Really enjoyed this. I recently wrote a short story where the writer's muse was a six foot tall talking fox with a New York accent. 🙂
How very kind of you Tom ..
Luckily I have not lost my muse...May the Thaw be with you.
Best Wishes...
My word Mistress D .. tis indeed good to hear .. and I am mightily grateful to you for indulging me this fine mane .. Best Wishes reciprocated .. N
Great read,
I know the feeling too! 😕
My muse has done
walkabouts on me too,
quite a few!! 🤔
Thanks for sharing my friend!!👍
Best regards ✌️ Thad
they say there's safety in numbers don't they .. thanks for both the nod, the wink and the thumbs up .. Neville 🙂😉👍
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