Muse :
"Move over fool and watch a Muse Master
at work"


      In the blackness of my soul
      I sit listening to far off thunder
      As inside it also rolls

      For long long seconds
      There is no sound
      Then begins the brumble bound

      Quicken flashes does my mind's
      Hindsight cause flashes white
      Of the truth hidden by the night

      It is perhaps then I stir
      And begin to think of you
      A soul's ***** as if a burr

      Then the truth will crash
      And I slow count to ten
      Before I hear rumble within

      Then comes a calm
      No more flash or sound
      I have burried my thoughts of you


Me :
"I don't know ," I say. "Maybe by tomorrow's
light . . . . I'll have a say ."

Then the muse did stare
With such a cold cold glare
All the fluids in my glass froze

There she was
Then she wasn't
And she vanished
Into the cold thin air

if someone
bashes you,
hates you,
wrongs you,
or betrays you,
for no reason,

they're just dying to have a life like yours.

my jealousy lingers like
hunger does after only
a snack,
even though i know
i'll get my fill,
whether i describe it as
atonement for starving,
or satisfaction
when it comes to my emptiness.

Wind bends a weak branch.
Fresh leaves sing in harmony.
A lizard of the same color
slowly stretches his way from leaf to spine.
He stops to investigate a string
of silk from a spider's web
and I wonder how that tastes.
Lit up like a jack-o-lantern,
his glowing body
reveals organs and vessels
much like my own.
He makes his 30 foot ascent
above hot cement
just to sunbathe on a leaf.
What a life that is.

long ago,
I was once given
one of the finest pieces
of cloth

only that the cloth was very small
and I had no thread

later,
I was given some nice
golden thread
I had sewn a tiny heart
on the cloth

the next day,
a boy asked to see
my fine tapestry
i was full of smiles

until

I looked at it and saw
a set of terrible words
on the cloth

as i read it my eyes
burned

"jealousy is a nasty *****."

(b.d.s.)