O' Poetry,
Why?
Or is it words instead I should pose the question toward?,
Perhaps it is just me! Maybe I myself am the answer!
O' Poetry,
Expression unfathomable, consuming my every thought,
Harrowing linguistically the vexed argument I implore...
O' Poetry,
Without rhyme or reason I struggle to write
My inspiration, my insight, insecure;
The pages remaining white and those feint lines
Empty.



ELEETE J MUIR

I slipped beneath the depths of your eyes,
Drowning in the ocean of my soul;
My heart shivered in the shadow of your aura,
My mind corrupted by inappropriate thoughts
I loved at first sight. I do not know how to swim!
Breathless unable to conjure a word
You neglected my silence without a care
And ever since you've been resuscitating me in my dreams.


ELEETE J MUIR

today i was better than
better than who you will be tomorrow
yesterday we were nobodies that ever met
today i told you the truth
yesterday the truth did not exist
tomorrow it could possibly be true
but today i was better than
better than who you will be tomorrow
today i spoke the truth
tomorrow you will tell everybody i lied
yesterday never existed
i am nobody
we all want to be somebody
but the truth to you is a lie
maybe a lie is just something we have never lived
maybe a lie is something we have gone through
but can never truthfully tell
maybe yesterday is the only reason we are who we are today
perhaps tomorrow can awaken us from our own nightmares
to find to find us who we are
perhaps today is the only day we have not to exist
perhaps today is the only day we have to live
perhaps we deny our own realities because the truth is too great
or maybe our lies to powerful
today i was better than you
better than you will be tomorrow
maybe yesterday was all we had
and tomorrow we die
and then we realize we never were
anybody something anything
but our truths and our lies
rolled into the day and the life of
our nothingness
today i was better than
better than the world ever knew
and more than you ever accepted

The probity of paraclete malafide
By crocodile tears smithed
Thrawing the wand whilst green
As the chime child of the
Passing bell trips the light fantastic
By hook or by crook in best bib
And tucker igniting corpse candles
Travelling along the soul road
Shroved by guardian crosses made
Of that fatal tree, the gallow of knowledge
Hung by familiar elders
Taking back the breath of life.


ELEETE J MUIR.