"No Muse-poet grows conscious of the Muse except by experience of a woman in whom the Goddess is to some degree resident; just as no Apollonian poet can perform his proper function unless he lives under a monarchy or a quasi-monarchy. A Muse-poet falls in love, absolutely, and his true love is for him the embodiment of the Muse. . . . But the real, perpetually obsessed Muse-poet distinguishes between the Goddess as manifest in the supreme power, glory, wisdom and love of woman, and the individual woman whom the Goddess may make her instrument. . . . The Goddess abides; and perhaps he will again have knowledge of her through his experience of another woman. . . . Being in love does not, and should not, blind the poet to the cruel side of woman's nature—and many Muse-poems are written in helpless attestation of this by men whose love is no longer returned."
~ Robert Graves (The White Goddess, A historical grammar of poetic myth.)
To Laura M: Goddess Muse
It was nothing, everything
But a few starred nights
Of flesh on flesh in fields of dreams
Of blood red, vein blue and lion's gold,
Gossamer pink angel's wings spiraling
The candlelight of her silent back porch.
It was nothing, everything
But a cat's eye silver sky afire,
A shimmering lake in mercury platinum,
Lavender sheets lightning pulsing,
A liquid photograph of stars.
A blue moon is nothing, everything
But two full moons in a month,
Particles of red light
On a pirouette stretch.
What's the magic of that?
The chaos magic in
Your luminous smile, strumming fingers,
Your mouth spreading me apart...
I'll forget those nights
As the hunter arches
And the virgin slips.
A blue moon is nothing
But a bar trick dance of light,
And my heart's silent yearning
And lips on lips on lips.
----------------
* Inspired by Laura's painting *
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Comments: 40
I knew when I first started reading you that your soul was capable of any form,
whether tabernacle or dungeon bed, scathing hurt or impassioned love. Your
ability as mimic is astounding; to see you grow from "imitatio" into your own
remarkable original voice even more amazing.
These verses are humbling to any but a major poet. Laura will be well pleased. I am, because I know you are only beginning to reveal your awesome literary talent.
And I will try to add a more coherent comment later.
Major congratulations on a masterpiece of lyric simplicity and mythological depth.
a poem that would open the heart of any woman alive-go to it!
I'll return in just a bit, sweet friend...this is one of the most generous gifts I have ever received....your heart is amazing......thank you, Will....you brought a smile to this day.
Barakah!
A shimmering lake in mercury platinum,
Lavender sheets lightning pulsing,
A liquid photograph of stars."
I can guarantee that this will inspire a painting...this is so delicious it makes me crazy ....every sense is there....I have never been able to capture the feeling of creating my images...but this does it....it is that stimulating for me and the different element of each painting just sort of asks to be put on canvas, then inviting more and more colors and iamges and when I feel completely sated, it is done. But I never paint them for a long time....usually a couple of days...so they always have the impulsivity of your language and they always feel this magical. I keep coming back to read this and savor and grin.
The most amazing part of this poem for me is how you capture the fluid state of the mind in the process of creation....how it tests and layers and melds seeking the posturing that will surprise and elucidate and empowerthrough the chosen medium. Every word, every brush stroke, ever poem, every painting, is nothing until it is birthed and then it becomes its own world..everything.
I loved your mentioning Isis as well....as my e-mail names always have Isis in them........I am honored that you call me your Muse.
Thank you again, Will.
"It was nothing everything" repeated twice, than worked into "a blue moon is nothing everything" and finally to the trompe l'oeil resolved as "a blue moon's nothing/ but a bar trick dance of light"
How fragile and solid our hologram of an instant, our desire of all our lives!
And the blue moon's inside us, waiting for the configuration, the reality of our correspondence with lover and the lunatic within.
I'll probably be back for another comment.
This is the first poem of yours I have read. You must've written it under a lovers moon...it is delightful.
But a bar trick dance of light,
And a heart's silent yearning
And lips on lips on lips."
A wonderful snippet of a succulent poem.
btw ("But a few staried nights"): do you mean starred or starried or storied?
-w
I may have a brilliant muse, but I am still in dire need of an equally good editor.
Hugs,
Will
What a marvelous beginning.
I like the Nothing, Everything reprise.
I like the lips spreading me apart
More poems please Will!
I have mailed a link to Robin Hislop, editor of poetry life and times, who will be interested to see more in simlar veing I know.
-Will
I now join the illustrious ranks of all the other famous people on Gather that have been so blessed.
Hmmm...bold words for this poetic Muse...oh well....it's on your site I can get away with it here.*devilish grinning*
Lovely.
Thanks!
Gather Member
greet this day with warmth.......to send you love.
glowed for a bit....for what beauty can be., what touch can be....how
fragile and yet so fertile and necessary for the soul to grow.
Again, thank you for this poem and this fine time when we shared our best.