Tag Archives: Muse

Musing

Birdless solitude, Winter’s song, slow, deep, solemn– Musing upon spring. Advertisements

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Balm

To write a poem that demands nothing from anyone else, truly asks for nothing, except to become, is the purest placeholder for the Muse’s proferred balm.    

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Bard

Bardic task at hand, to bask, in solitude, bare– Light passing over.

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Caution

Vigilant tracking, she stalks life in wary frets– Caution testing fire.

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Net

Naked, net value of a girl’s dreamless longing– Musing upon loss.

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Disquiet

They, the profane muses, Laurel and Hardy at a voodoo head-shop, serve as pillared repositories for the lasting remains of mortal disquiet.

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Duende

“The duende . . . Where is the duende? Through the empty archway a wind of the spirit enters, blowing insistently over the heads of the dead, in search of new landscapes and unknown accents; a wind with the odor … Continue reading

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