No Muse
My mind is an empty echoing hall
with sounds bouncing off
it's grey brains walls
There is no muse for inspiration
and romanticizing verse
is like constipation.
poem by Sara Fielder
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A Fact Of My Life
I am always rewinding things
To hear what was missed between
The spaces between the spaces...
Words that were not spoken
Wonderful things never said
But were going through my mind
Like a hard rubber ball
Bouncing between the walls
Of the spaces between the walls....
Echoes reverberate
With incessant sound
Of inarticulate voices...
Incomprehensible
Maddening hollow sounds
Crash against walls of hollow sounds...
Which drive me to madness
Trying to coexist
In a world outside me...
In which hollow sounds
Resound against crashed walls
Of rewinding empty spaces....
That is my life
What else can I say....
COPY WRITE©2009
poem by Romeo Della Valle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poet Goes to the Doctor
'Doctor, doctor! Can't you help me please?
I'm suffering from a dreadful disease,
A rhyming disorder, and what makes it worse,
I can't help speaking or writing in verse! !
These sleepless nights of alliteration
Are causing me such consternation,
The assonance too is making me ill -
Please give me a potion or some kind of pill! ! '
'Calm down, my friend, no need to worry, '
The doctor replied, 'Don't be in a hurry, -
I've got the answer, - a good dose of prose
By the dullest of authors, everyone knows,
Will speedily remedy your inspiration
By giving you TWO YEARS of verbal constipation! !
You can say goodbye to your fluent verse
As your poetry goes from bad to worse,
Don't change your mind and run to your Muse,
She won't grant your prayers, she'll simply refuse! !
Poetry is always a pain in the *rse,
But I promise you your illness will pass,
You'll just be a bore like the rest of us,
Scansion and metre? What an awful fuss! ! '
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pleadings From a Dead Poet
Oh Muse, release the locks that dam the flow
Of verse and song from my distended heart.
Find passion for my soul that I have lost poetic speech.
Let flow the streams of ardency to seek their source
Within the infinite, harmonious, consistency of words.
Embrace me Muse,
Allow the fountains of my mind to fill the empty pools
Of solitude with thoughts and sounds of dreamy visions
Worthily expressed.
Awaken to my reverence,
Breathe forth that harmony to which my soul was filled.
I stand in this anhydrous waste, in dread
My ever-present being shall be made invisble to life.
And she replied:
'Be silent fool, and listen
For the still, soft whispers of your inner Self.
Harken to the Counsel of your bosom,
Through which Creation passes.
Then, you write.'
(Blank Verse)
poem by Lynn W. Petty
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Intro
O-U-T-K-A-S-T
Live, from the center of the earth, 7 light-years below sea level we go,
welcome to Stankonia. The place from which all funky things come. Would you
like to come?
(girl moaning, lasts throughout intro)
Bounce baby. (We're bouncing)
Bounce.
Bounce. (We're bouncing)
2 times bounce bounce. (We're bouncing)
We bouncing. (We're bouncing)
BOUNCE... (We bouncing baby)
(We're bouncing!) C'mon, bounce.
(Bouncing! Bounce baby) Bounce!
Bounce bounce. (Baby!) Bounce bounce.
(Let's bounce) C'mon bounce. (Everybody let's bounce)
(Let's bounce) We bouncing now.
All that bouncing, niggaz be from the H-L. We got Bankhead right here,
southwest and 92 strong.
BREAK!! -clap-
song performed by by Outkast
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Ode To Inspiration
Up above, Tchaikovsky's fluting notes are dancing,
And the empty paper waits for the first verse to be born.
While the screaming wind beats against the old window,
My thoughts are endlessly straying,
Looking for lost inspiration,
And they stray the ravines of my mind,
Like lost children searching for their dear mother,
Lost inspiration.
The heart is painfully echoing in a mute chest,
And the paper still waits for its dear tennants,
And it is as if the angry wind knows it too,
The wind that shakes the old window blinds
That painfully creak
Like the bones of an old dying man.
If I could,
I would sprinkle all roads with stars,
I would gild each stone with the rays of the sun,
If only inspiration could find its way to my home.
But how could I possibly greet it royally
In a room full of moisture, draft and smoke,
And the deafening echo of poverty,
As inspiration is royal by birth, after all.
There is grave silence down there,
And a magic harmony up there,
It is Tchaikovsky dispersing his magic notes
Down into my dark home,
As if he wants to provide a royal welcome for inspiration.
That blue shadow is watching me now,
As if saying:
'Inspiration is of royal birth,
You will find it in the dark, below a stone,
In the company of the darkest shadow,
At the very heart of loneliness;
You don't have to take the stars down from the sky for it,
Or bait it with gold
So it would find its home.
Giving in to your heart is enough, brother,
And inspiration shall find its home! ...'
poem by Walter William Safar
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Bouncing Off The Walls
She's ecstatic
She can't help it
She's bouncing off the walls again
Listening to her favorite love songs
Chatting with her man
Recalling old times
Bring up old memories
Listening to her favorite love songs
Shes bouncing off the walls again
Cause her love maybe coming back into her life
While listening to her favorite love songs
I think she has a permanent smile on her face
She's bouncing off the walls again
Drinking English Breakfast tea and listening to her favorite love songs
(5-1-05)
poem by Brandi Young
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Inspiration
Lyrics and music by dan penn and spooner oldham
I need your sweet inspiration
I need you here on my mind
Every hour of the day
Without your sweet inspiration
The lonely hours of the night
Just dont go my way
A woman in love
Needs sweet inspiration
Yeah, and honey thats all I ask, thats all I ask from you
Ive gotta have your sweet inspiration
You know there just aint no tellin what a satisfied woman might do
The way you call me baby, baby
Is such a sweet inspiration
The way you call me darlin, darlin
Sets my heart to skating
And if Im out in the rain, baby
And in a bad situation
You know I just reach back in my mind
And there I find your sweet, sweet inspiration
Sweet inspiration
Oh, what a power
And Ive got the power
Every hour of the day
I need your inspiration
To go on, to go on living
To keep on giving this way
I need your sweet inspiration
Sweet inspiration, sweet inspiration, sweet inspiration
Sweet, sweet inspiration
Sweet, sweet inspiration
I need, sweet inspiration
song performed by by Vonda Shepard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sans Inspiration
Tonight I’m inspired
By my lack of inspiration
I’m inspired to write
And defy this Mental constipation
Tonight I’ll write…
Simply out of spite
entirely, and completely
Without inspiration
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where's My Inspiration?
I can not think.
My mind is at a gridlock.
Where’s my inspiration?
Boredom is highly overwhelming,
But then I think,
“A poem about boredom! ”
Stupid, huh?
But still,
I-can-not- think.
Where’s my inspiration?
I lie on my bed,
Mind empty.
I stare at the ceiling,
At the blank white wall.
Then I stare at my paper,
A blank white canvas.
But then I look closer
It isn’t blank.
It’s filled with lines,
And not just any lines,
BLUE lines.
They aren’t even solid either.
With closer inspection,
They are dotted.
Some even have breaks in them.
Well,
Look at that.
I’ve found my inspiration.
“What is it? ” You may think.
To tell the truth it’s nothing special.
My inspiration came from everywhere around me.
My closed mind soon opened up and spoke to my hand.
It’s funny how the mind works,
Don’t you agree?
poem by Devon McElveen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stumble & Fall
I never saw you like this before
Those eyes so weary, but that smile so steady
O, I never heard you, like this before
The words so heavy
The sound so dreary
O, they sound so dreary, hey
I never saw you
I never saw you
I never saw you
Like this before
I stumble and fall
Over your gaze and your call
I stumble and fall
Its dreary echoing, sounds in the static hall
How can I continue with this icy cube
You are putting in my head
You are putting in my head
I never saw you like this before
Those eyes so weary, but the smile so steady
O, the smile so steady
I never saw you
I never saw you
I never saw you
Like this before
I stumble and fall
Over your gaze and your call
I stumble and fall
Its dreary echoing
As it sounds in the static hall
song performed by by Xymox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stumble & Fall
I never saw you like this before
Those eyes so weary, but that smile so steady
O, I never heard you, like this before
The words so heavy
The sound so dreary
O, they sound so dreary, hey
I never saw you
I never saw you
I never saw you
Like this before
I stumble and fall
Over your gaze and your call
I stumble and fall
Its dreary echoing, sounds in the static hall
How can I continue with this icy cube
You are putting in my head
You are putting in my head
I never saw you like this before
Those eyes so weary, but the smile so steady
O, the smile so steady
I never saw you
I never saw you
I never saw you
Like this before
I stumble and fall
Over your gaze and your call
I stumble and fall
Its dreary echoing
As it sounds in the static hall
song performed by by Xymox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dust
Its 2am in town hall station
Black walls and sleeping drunks
Are bad companions
Ice is there
Fear is there
Everyone is nowhere theres too much of nothing
Take me away
It 9am in town hall station
Flashing faces and grey herds no comparison
So sorry
So straight
Everyone is nowhere theres too much of nothing
Take me away
Its 2 am...
(moginie/garrett/hirst)
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beatnik Rant
Three cheers for Allen Ginsberg
Who wasn't afraid to have a w*nk!
I love him much more than T.S.Eliot
That clean-shaven man who worked in a bank!
I also like Jack Kerouac
And others of the Beat revolution -
No doubt they'd all have gotten the sack
If they'd worked in a respectable institution!
I've got no time for Robert Graves either
And the priests of Ultimate Inspiration,
Save us from these intellectual snobs
And their endless moralistic constipation!
It all depends if you want your verse
To be taught in schools for the improvement of fools -
Personally I can't think of anything worse,
So start writing NOW and breaking the rules! !
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Grey World
Grey nights in the wind,
And the grey-faced dead.
Grey hairs in my head,
And grey eyes in my mind.
Grey mists in the morn,
And grey waves that rave,
Grey mould on my grave,
And grey eyes forlorn.
Grey clouds in the sky,
And the grey world asleep,
Grey ghosts that sigh,
And grey eyes that weep.
poem by Leon Gellert
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Blank Mind
There's a clean sheet of paper, with nary a word,
And number two pencils sharpened so fine.
Yet my mind undoubtedly is not on board,
My muse I must have left behind.
Here I sit without a single thought,
Staring out the window pane.
Without the inspiration I have sought,
No electrical impulses in my brain.
My mind is a desert, life hidden away,
Only rocks and sand abound.
My thoughts have a seven second delay,
No inspiration is to be found.
6/17/11 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grateful (inspired by Julianne)
You're the greatest Muse of all
I didn't have to look too far
You're the Inspirer of it all
You did breathe Life
You're the Spirit behind it all
You did Create it all
Including me
A vessel
Who needed confirmation
Who's now a true vessel
Engaged in conversation
You're the greatest Muse of all
And I give thanks
For giving me the inspiration to create
You are the greatest Muse of all
It is to You I'm grateful for
I owe it all to You all that I do
I'm an empty vessel through and through
I'm so so grateful to You
© 2009 Sonya Florentino
Julianne Tarroja is a young singer-songwriter from the Philippines. Her debut album “Grateful” is a work of true inspiration. If you haven’t listened to it, please do so. The single is a sure winner—deeply personal yet universal, spiritual but not preachy, poignant yet very contemporary and yes, it is catchy! Another favorite of mine is the less commercially-appealing but equally beautiful “Let It Rain” which is simply simply exquisite-poetry made into song.
poem by Sonya Florentino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Following A Bouncing Ball
Why haven't I contacted you at all?
My priorities have completely changed.
I had to adopt another focus.
It became too difficult for me,
To continue following a bouncing ball.
Especially one I thought I could hold.
But that ball you bounce,
Is too much out of control!
And as for me,
I needed to keep a peace concrete...
Within my walls.
You had me feel they were closing in.
And climbing over walls,
To breathe fresh air...
Over and over and over again,
I will not accept as an agenda!
Activated to keep on call.
I came to realize,
That's just not me.
Why haven't I contacted you at all?
I threw that ball over my walls.
And not a regret left do I have!
None.
Not one in my mind there kept to stall.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Alankar(Decor) -103
Grumble(Quatern)
The Quatern is-
stanzaic, written in 4 quatrains.
syllabic, usually written in lines of 8 syllables.
rhymed at the poet's discretion.
Possible rhyme schemes are Axax xAxa axAx xaxA x being unrhymed
and the cap A being the refrain.
Or Aabb aAcc ddAa eeaA or any combination the poet chooses
as long as the refrain is in the proper position.
composed with a refrain that is repeated as
L1 of the first stanza
L2 of the second stanza
L3 of the third stanza
L4 of the fourth stanza
Grumble
Empty mind mine sounds only hush
Lonely bewildered in silence
I am to fill it with words lush
My musings are hunting for thoughts
Albeit heart yearns for poetry
Empty mind mine sounds only hush
I pat my brain quite brisk
So that floods of words lot in gush
Time does not seem to wait then rush
Brain is working fast-yet
Empty mind mine sounds only hush
Thought-hunt is busy running on
I don't like a random scribble
Perfect theme, proper words should push
That my poem is set right-still
Empty mind mine sounds only hush
poem by Indira Renganathan
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The Echoing Sounds Of The Ocean Waves
I LISTEN TO THE ECHOING SOUNDS
OF THE OCEAN WAVES HITTING THE SHORE
AND THE SEAGULS FLYING DOWN
TRYING TO CATCH MORE
WHILE MOUNTAINS SEEM SO FAR
AND THE PEOPLE ON THERE SAIL BOATS WAVING
NOT KNOWING WHO YOU ARE
AND TIME DON'T MOVE THE HOURS STAND STILL
WHEN YOUR OUT IN THE OCEAN ENJOYING THE AIR
NOW THE SWEET BREEZE RUFFLES YOUR HAIR
BUT YOU DON'T CARE
YOUR JUST LETTING YOUR SELF BE FREE
JUST LISTENING TO ECHOING SOUNDS
OF THE OCEAN WAVES HITTING THE SHORE
poem by Bruce Martone
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Grey Is The Sky.
Grey is the sky, no wonder why
My thoughts won't fly, up soaring high.
Dull clouds hang low
And that is so depressing!
The blessing of inspiration, creation
Depleted, defeated.
But when that shade of grey
Is pushed away
By sunshine's hue
Of brilliant blue,
That warms my heart,
Gives me the start
To fly and soar once more
Will thoughts be free, and I can see
What only then is clear again:
The path to inspiration
And creation.
poem by Edeltraut L. Scheffler Plath
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