To A... Muse
TO A... MUSE
May neither time nor tide upon your Muse
Abide for long but long for music more,
Unreeling till eternity true score
DEclining years cannot erase, abuse.
Many seek to speak but Chance can't choose
Another whose as sensitive, whose core
Unmoved remains, resistant to Time's maw,
DEar, modest, understates the role her views
Must play within our universal glues
As bridge between ‘I thought’, ‘I sought’ encore.
Under that bridge stream flows to Eden's shore,
DEsire ‘acceptance’ draws from past ‘refuse’.
MAsterpiece ‘Unstable’ modifies,
DErides blocks, barricades, unlocks joy’s skies
6 July 2008
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To A…Muse poem © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Transparent
TRANSPARENT
Mastery of rhyme and rhythm here
Accompanies imagination free,
Unreels and reinforces pattern key
Describing white on black much truth holds dear.
Explicit line line follows, signals clear
Must mock all superficiality -
As Muse with music's so all may see,
Unchallenged sings the poet's inner ear,
Depth draws, new meanings gleans to sincere
Eternity meets authenticity.
MAUDlin expressions banished, light may be
Everlastingly shared, shall never wear.
May this be the beginning, not the end,
Masks fall, all questions answered, links extend.
19 July 2008
robi03_0957_robi03_0000 ASX_IXX
Transparent poem (c) Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who is in charge?
My muse continues to abuse
her position. She will refuse
to use her skills to help me out
That she’s in charge she has no doubt.
But I have bad news for my muse.
I have arranged some interviews
with other muses unemployed
Who say they would be overjoyed
to find themselves in with a chance
Which would improve their circumstance.
My muse is old and crotchety
she really thinks, she employs me.
I think it’s time that she retired
a thought which she herself inspired.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Leman Lemon Relativity
LEMAN LEMON RELATIVITY
May 'rose' today, tomorrow symbolize
All once pomegranate represented?
Unthorned, unexpected rose' demise,
Destiny preferring lemon scented?
Eternity bears witness as time flies
Many former meanings are repented
As generation challenges, defies,
'Universal truths' plinths uncemented.
Defining lemon love we recognize
Evolution, ever discontented,
Modifies, old favorites downsized,
As newer fight for light misrepresented,
Unsatisfactory in any guise,
DEfinitions, reputations dented.
26 July 2008
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Leman Lemon Relativity poem © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Nancy Boy
Alcoholic kind of mood
Lose my clothes, lose my lube
Cruising for a piece of fun
Looking out for number one
Different partner every night
So narcotic outta sight
What a gas, what a beautiful ass.
And it all breaks down at the role reversal,
Got the muse in my head shes universal,
Spinnin me round shes coming over me.
And it all breaks down at the first rehearsal,
Got the muse in my head shes universal,
Spinnin me round shes coming over me.
Kind of buzz that lasts for days
Had some help from insect ways
Comes across all shy and coy
Just another nancy boy.
Woman man or modern monkey
Just another happy junkie
Fifty pounds, press my button
Going down.
And it all breaks down at the role reversal
Got the muse in my head shes universal,
Spinnin me round shes coming over me.
And it all breaks down at the first rehearsal,
Got the muse in my head shes universal,
Spinnin me round shes coming over me.
Does his makeup in his room
Douse himself with cheap perfume
Eyeholes in a paper bag
Greatest lay I ever had
Kind of guy who mates for life
Gotta help him find a wife
Were a couple, when our bodies double.
And it all breaks down at the role reversal
Got the muse in my head shes universal,
Spinnin me round shes coming over me.
And it all breaks down at the first rehearsal,
Got the muse in my head shes universal,
Spinnin me round shes coming over me.
And it all breaks down at the role reversal,
Got the muse in my head shes universal,
Spinnin me round shes coming over me.
And it all breaks down at the first rehearsal,
Got the muse in my head shes universal,
Spinnin me round shes coming over me.
song performed by by Placebo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Troubadour à Muse
Should you stay fey Troubadour’s muse,
walls would fall heeding need's call, I swear,
souls united, delighted, all share,
with only bemusement to lose.
On days dark, in the dumps, much the blues,
with a butterfly touch, laughter rare,
Cupid's bow, Zephyr's blow, would declare
Cinderella should don dancing shoes.
Enchantment spells well to enthuse
rejoicing that naught could impair,
jubilation, creation, forms stair
to heaven through rainbow as woos
heart to heart once apart, each takes cues
up, around, to rebound, well may dare
answer call of the wild, child repair
to prepare transformation's true hues.
Should you play kind Troubadour’s muse,
away with toils, trouble and care -
discovering answers to prayer
with wantonness neither refuse.
When you kiss bliss takes wing, life renews
welfare's tune springing wellspring, brings where
bright eyes dream through lagoon blue moon, there
stars sparkle, shine, intertwine views.
No blame could exist, no accuse
‘WE’ creation could catalyze, air
to stimulate stanzas, - nor scare,
nor fear, dear, no asking ‘what’s whose? ’
Thus your mirror, fair Troubadour’s muse,
Time lines leaves behind, neither ware
of the need to seed feelings, feed, share
beyond commonplace keyed to amuse.
If O.K. bright ray, Troubadour's muse,
each phrase might rhyme praise everywhere,
spirit brave, blithe, reve[a]led as each layer
protective peels, unseals joy's fuse.
As Troubadour's muse you should choose
priceless patterns and textures, compare
clear vision in tender affair
to humdrum existence crowd rues,
there fusion would never confuse,
inspiration enough, and to spare,
intuitive insight aware
of the chance to advance, shed taboos.
Interplay between Troubadour, muse,
flamboyancy splices with flair,
both would sow, both would grow, as a pair,
flow as current electric to use
space as base to trace joy - not abuse -
we should tenderness share, greet, prepare
ideal idyll past fast will repair...
would you play fair as Troubadour's muse?
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Emell
This muse of love is like how to write a song,
This muse of care is like how to write a poem,
This muse of peace is like how to write a stroy,
This muse of joy is like how to write a book,
But, i am now delivered with the muse of your love!
Because, i now live in the land of your muse and,
You are called Emell.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The 7th Edition Of My Love
This poem is about the muse of your love,
But many will still wonder why?
Because i was in the bush last night and i saw your tears.
The dog became a god and the rat became a tar!
But war was very raw on your side;
And to leap for joy was like the peal of your muse.
I saw you tears yesterday,
But you can't repel the leper and come to me;
For the heavens know who i am,
But this poem will say it all.
This poem is about the muse of your love,
But what have they done to you my love? !
For i have seen the tears in your eyes.
I have now won the race and,
I will come and save you from this cold;
So put your clothes on without any clues on my muse,
For this era of your love is like the net over ten houses!
But i need a nap for you to use the pan on my stove.
The gel is now on your left leg,
And the dam is now visited by a mad man;
But a man at war is like the sorrows of your muse.
This is the 7th Edition of my love,
But i will come and save you from the heat!
And like shiny leaves with sharp points,
But try to abide in me and live with me in my abode.
Abreast yourself to the matters of love,
And leave your door ajar and let me meet Raja my friend;
For the anagram of my life is all about you,
Because Elvis lives in the land of your muse!
Append to my works to enhance your love,
But things around you are like the era of war!
So live up to the expectations of this poem,
And i will be there to save you with my sweet love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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My Muse Is Free
I swim in the glimmers on the rivers muse
There I muse of love and love muse of me
In muse is ecstasy
my muse is free.
I lay by the brook, the muse's brook
And thirsty, I get up, to get a little drink
When I look, I see, I think
A beautiful Muse and my heart is shook
I dwell in a soul, a soulful muse
And to its harmony my soul withdrew
To the trumpets of muse the song of blue
My soul a muse, I always knew
I smell the odor, of muse's incense
In its torpor my body sleeps in my soul
And I smoke the smoke of muse intense
I laugh at myself amusingly droll
With my muse's nymphs we love in Hellas
Naked and free in the republic
Of beauty and art of love's Bellas
We love to we're entirely love sick.
My muse is free from the Devil's temptation
My Muse is free from God's judgment
My Muse is my only wordly nation
My Muse is a dream, I live, I lament
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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A Swinging Bridge
A swinging bridge,
My, love to you is like the muse of your act;
But the sun will rise on us always.
I love you and you love me,
But to whom is this sun shing up to?
For this life is all about us.
A swinging bridge,
And like the muse of joy!
But the bombs dropping on us now are like,
A paradise with a very dark shadow! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Help Wanted
I am compelled, perhaps obsessed.
Would be a better choice of word.
My muse allows me little rest.
She is convinced that she know best
No matter how much I protest
She insists she has the right
To make me write by day and night.
I sometimes feel I am possessed
Although the idea seems absurd.
My judgement marred by lack of rest
I find reality is blurred.
I’m sure my muse abuses me
I’m tired of her tyranny.
I really think that it would be
Better if she left. Undeterred
She still insists that she knows best.
And acts as if she hasn’t heard.
That poets can dismiss their muse
When they are guilty of abuse.
I’m sick of being under stress
Although I would have much
preferred not to cause my muse distress
She pretended she misheard.
When I told her we were through
It was the only thing to do.
I did not like her attitude.
But now I am without a muse.
Although I have some aptitude
I must arrange some interviews
I will be careful when I choose
Some muse to fill the vacancy.
A muse that will not bully me.
Monday,17 October 2011
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Muse, music! !
Muse, music! !
Very powerful enough;
Influencing the people,
In positive and negative ways;
And like a dance to the volcanoes.
Muse, fuse, defuse, infuse, refuse, use;
And like the muse and the music of 'Route 66'!
For, the Cowboys and the Cowgirls are ready to cheer you up.
Space, pace, lace, ace, race, mace, brace, face!
And like most of the music of the earth today;
However, you better note the kind of music that you listen to,
Because, this can easily lead you into another level.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Standing Out for the Outstanding
An hour, pretty flower, I’m agreed for,
a night, what delight beyond dreams!
a week would be bliss I would bleed for,
a month might be magic, it seems.
But a year, Dear, is more than I’d plead for,
though the hope for osmosis still gleams:
for longer, - as yet I’m not keyed for
although Love bright and bravely now beams.
to capture each rapture and encore,
if encore there be - how Time streams! -
and if I be THE one you would breed for
why not tarry a tide, b[r]ide as teams?
(Initial poem previous title A_Greed 5 June 1992 © Jonathan ROBIN
Parody revised 4 May 2005 as collaborative ring 43 contributions)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Within The Next 7 Days!
You and your poetry,
Me and my poetry,
Selected! !
In this world,
With your muse,
With my muse,
Of this honour,
Of this love,
Of this peace,
As a poet,
Of your new poem,
Of my new poem,
Within the next 7 days!
But, bering very excited about it.
cash, bash, lash, mash, wash, ash, flash!
of your muse,
of my muse,
The prizes,
The sizes,
Seizes! !
As a participant,
And like a friendly reminder;
However, being based on your previously published work.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Long Plate (LP)
Play the Long Plate (LP) with the muse of your love and,
Let me muse up with my mind and dance on this love!
For i can study the words of your songs to fly away in peace;
And i want to hear the muse of your songs all day long.
Here i am my love! !
So play the Long Plate (LP) of your song and let me enjoy it;
For you are all that i need and your songs of love are what motivates me!
And like the state of my mind in the land of plenty.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Highly Sought Out
Thanks for taking time to write to me,
Thanks for taking time to receive me,
Thanks for taking time to understand my muse;
Going through it!
personally,
Highly sought out;
And like your poetic accomplishments in life.
Archives, hives, knives, wives, lives, rives, fives, gives, jives, strives! !
In and around the world;
And like a new look,
But, with unique acts in the land of your muse.
Of the interest,
Of your interest,
Of my interest,
Like the appeal of your love;
Artistic!
Artistry,
Poetic artistry,
With your muse,
With my muse,
Ever prepared,
Ever produced,
Ever accepted;
With the aspects of your sweet love.
This muse,
This love,
This mind,
This wind! !
And like a highly valued personal gift from me to you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Cause and Consequence
Many options chance and choice might sow,
Although what meets the eye needs second-sight
Undoing ill that second-thoughts may show
DEspairing seeker after answers bright.
Much harm is done when wishful thinking mocks
Advancing voice or crystal image which
Unlocks outlook unfortunate or blocks
DEsired outcome grieving heart would stitch.
Most roads rejoin itinerary pre-traced,
As cause and consequence are intertwined,
Use or abuse of options closed, unlaced,
DEtermines more than mortal mind may find
Confined within fate's eye-ball wishing well
Creating mirror heaven or hell could spell...
[c] Jonathan Robin acrostic sonnet written 27 June 2008
poem by Jonathan Robin
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I Have Weighted Each Line
I have weighted each line with an abyss thought
To flow in tomorrow - spin there around
Something to catch - meanings to be found
The long gone past in to our own time brought
With wings of my muse in inspiring way
The summer set roots for the hours to come
Oh how they whisper - oh how they still play
From land of the unknown where they are from
Deepness is deep but not too far outlying
Like these flights are from the black raven's song
Those come with their doubts - from sky full of clouds
Seeing through the gist - their knowledge worthy trying
Each to routes where they in desire long
Amongst the wandering of past gone crowds
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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A Petition
To spring belongs the violet, and the blown
Spice of the roses let the summer own.
Grant me this favor, Muse--all else withhold--
That I may not write verse when I am old.
And yet I pray you, Muse, delay the time!
Be not too ready to deny me rhyme;
And when the hour strikes, as it must, dear Muse,
I beg you very gently break the news.
poem by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
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Louis' Trip
Few, nephew, sew, threw, brew, flew, dew, drew;
And like Louis' Trip in the land of your muse,
But, try to understand the muse of my love around you in this town.
Proposed, posed, opposed, dosed, hosed, bossed, nosed;
And at 'Peduase Lodge in Aburi (Ghana) '! !
But, try to understand the muse of my love around you in this town.
Crew, hew, Jew, stew, shrew, strew, new, mew, yew;
And like the dust from your eyes! !
But, try to understand the muse of my love around you in this town.
This was like my life in Conakry in those days,
But, bring me home with the sweet muse of your love;
For, i have a message for you in this town.
Long, belong, along, song, among, dong, cong, pong, strong, gong, wrong;
And over many different places!
But, try to understand the muse of my love around you in this town.
Cream, ream, bream, beam, dream, steam, stream;
And over many different ways! !
However, i do have a message for you in this town.
Over many different years,
Over many different ways,
Over many different types,
Over many different places,
Over many different styles,
Over many different acts,
Over many different works,
But, do remember me always in your heart;
For, the future depends on the positive muse of this life today.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Ultimatum
Above, below to left or right.
There is no where that I can hide,
my muse finds me and makes me write.
My wants must go unsatisfied
She interrupts my sleep and meals
insists that I take up my pen.
She has no idea how it feels
to be forced to write again.
She wakes from my peaceful dreams
and asks me why I’m wasting time.
She has a whole new list of themes
for me to translate into rhyme.
I think she has insomnia
Or else prefers to work at night.
She’ll really have to learn I fear
I am entitled not to write.
I need to sleep, I need to eat
I need some time to call my own.
But she refuses to retreat
She thinks she occupies a throne.
And her commands I must obey
immediately without protest.
Ignoring every word I say
convinced that only she knows best.
I dig my toes in and refuse
sometimes a man must make a stand.
I only have a muse to lose
At last she seems to understand.
That I’m not at her beck and call
I have other things I must do.
Her attitude won’t do at all’
It’s something that she must review.
I only write when I want to,
not when muse decides I should.
Renewal of her contracts due
That fact alone should give her food
for thought. I may decide not to renew.
If she wants to retain her place
She will do as I tell her to
accept my bidding with good grace.
There are some muses unemployed
Seeking for opportunities
who would be simply overjoyed
to get the chance to work with me.
She really has to realise
There’s limits to my patience
which she far too often tries.
The time has come to show some sense.
I am in charge and not my muse.
Although she thinks that she should be
I’ve had enough of her abuse
She either leaves or obeys me.
2-Aug-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poetic piers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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