"polyhymnia" poems
My sweet water nymph
...earlier?!
You wished for me to arrive "earlier"?!
By your side be my life.
I carry your heart through realms of chaos.
Beg my pardon for the lapse in minutes..
Reliving your love can ****
You are thy muse.
Enchanting and mischievous and empowering is your being.
Your aura bleeds ecstasy and grace.
Calliope, Clio, Euterpe, Erato, Melpomene, Polyhymnia, Terpsichore, Thalia, Urania...
Collapsed in a single body.
What a body.
My sweet water nymph. . .
Carrying inspiration in those stems.
We can't help but bow to you.
Give me your ripened fruit of art.
You poor soul.
. . .my sweet water nymph
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 3:52 AM UTC
Dream a dream.
Make paradise twice as nice.
Take away all ills.
Apollo taught muses their crafts.
While playing on his lyre.
The muses danced on laurel leaves.
Paradise on Mount Helicon.
What was purpose of those muses?
I hear your request.
In land of myth from times long gone.
Nine goddesses,
spirits,
to put the world to rights.
With artistry, music, science and literature.
Linked under the heavens.
Forget the evils of the world.
Music, poetry catharsis.
Thalia.
Hysterical lady of comedy it seemed.
Good cheer and plenty sent.
Clio.
Made her history.
Wanted fame 'twas said.
Tried to keep it cheerful.
Along came Melpomene.
Singing loudly while playing around with tragedy.
Urania.
In celestial style,
glances to the heavens.
While Polyhymnia.
Sings and dances.
Making many songs
Sometimes in a silent mime.
The lovely Erato compiled poetic words of love.
Euterpe.
Made lyrics poetical
Brim filled with joy.
Maybe for Polyhymnia to sing
Calliope.
Her beautiful voice is heard.
Nearly a Nightingale.
Maybe singing bird.
Creation of poems based on epics.
Terpsichore
Danced on and on eternally.
While poets pens write on!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 7:30 AM UTC
Well hello, sweet Muses.
How nice of you to drop by
at four in the morning.
Let me make you some tea.
How are you all today?
Oh, I forgot for a moment
that you are goddesses
and are always
exactly as you should be.
I'm fine except my sleep
has become oddly contrary.
But you all know that and more.
You are the magic that
stirs my dreams until
I give up and get up.
You betray me to nightmares,
insomnia, memories and poems
that could certainly wait
for morning if you so desired.
And where have you all been?
For three years, you've been gone
and I have been left mute.
Such fickle ******* you are,
only bestowing your favors
according to your whims.
But we have all, back to Homer,
known how unfaithful you can be.
Now you've returned and I can't sleep.
You know I'm not so young
as the last time you visited.
I need a little rest occasionally,
but you are working me to death
as if no time at all has passed.
There should be a union for poets.
Of course, I will do your bidding as usual.
Calliope, Clio, Euterpe,
Thalia, Melpomene, Terpsichore,
Polyhymnia and sweet demanding Erato.
It's nice to see you all again,
all so lovely and immortal,
but please remember I am only a man
and a man can only take so much.
So please, try not to show up before 8 AM.
~mce
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 10:02 AM UTC
We set out on our journey, that one fateful day
The winds of ****** shrieking angrily above our heads, filling our sails
Our ship tossing from Poseidon’s restless sea, sending us astray
As our journey wore on, and as night soon fell
We found ourselves awash upon the Isle of Gael
Venturing from our ship, now sunken
We were met with fearsome creatures, their faces twisted and scarred
Escaping from death, daylight soon broke
The sky turning grey
The thunder rolling in, showed the might of Zeus
His anger flickering with jagged lightning, bringing tales of what once had been
A guide approached us, his face sunken and pale
He begun to tell us the fears of the Earth
A time when titans roamed and the mountains burned
As he finished his tale
He stood and led us through to Mother Gaia’s fortress
We walked, hearing Polyhymnia sing her chorus
The art lining the walls, long forgotten
Depicting tales of battles raged long ago
Between the family that ruled
Four elements would battle for control, the throne would be held by the mighty Zeus
Our journey had soon begun to close
We had learned the history of our past
As we returned home, our minds alight with new history
We found the battles had not ceased
We dragged our travel worn bodies upon the shore
Only to have to fight for our lives once more
As our battle on ground wore on, the gods became angry
The mountains rose up and the tides crashed
Sending the world into darkened chaos once again
We would fight the never ending battle
Until all the wrongs were righted
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 10:46 AM UTC
I call upon their harmony
They honor me with artistry
The pupils of Apollo's
Lyre resonant inside of me
Calliope adventurous,
Intrepid in her recklessness
Emboldening my will to lead
The unenlightened on this quest
Through Clio's scrolls of history
My oracle clairvoyant
She has graced me with the vision
Of the future sky chatoyant
And a buoyant sea of Euterpe
All floating through the lyricist
That synchronizes all of this
Into a metamorphosis
Evolving as Erato's love
A heart as soft as silk
A dove, tabula rasa thirsting for
The Mother Gaea's milk
To rise from Melpomene
Masks of tragic flaws of Icarus
For I divine the comedies
Thalia simply can't resist
Polyhymnia, Terpsichore
My rarest of expressions
Still reveal themselves in forms
Of spirit guide possessions
When Urania in cosmic bliss
Transports me to the stars
Reborn again to join them
As Mnemosyne's memoirs
Aug 30, 2017
Aug 30, 2017 at 1:11 AM UTC
the only calliope
i ever really wanted
has already decided
she's through with me
without giving me
a chance to speak.
-
and she's polyhymnia
in the comedy of hell,
raising voice in praise
of anything she respects
and in that she garners
all the power intrinsic.
-
no need for erato
when she's around
to keep my arteries
and thoughts clear
of emotional plaque
and writers' embolisms.
-
she is euterpe on a stage
of all the beautiful words
in all the beautiful languages
that can never be explained,
only known, and loved
and said in blissful ignorance.
-
she's thalia and melpomene,
comedy and tragedy,
laughter in her steps,
and springtime song,
and the ache of departure
evident in her wake.
-
terpischore at play
when the music starts,
involuntary, a reflex;
dancing is like breathing
to she who will break
my heart so many times.
-
she is urania --
she keeps my eyes
on infinity and away
from sights that feel
like shaky index knuckles
on unforgiving pistol triggers.
-
she is clio, keeper
of simple night histories,
because those are what
she lives for, and those are
what i've always mused upon
living for -- with her.
Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 2:41 PM UTC
If Polyhymnia could be
a winter afternoon’s great beauty,
or night, as it fills the moon’s girth
with still translucence restored from earth…
If Polyhymnia could be like the sleigh
we got for last year’s Christmas day,
not so hot for winter’s snow, but good once spring’s
trapeze and high wire act started up…
If Polyhymnia could be a spider moved
up from creation’s mold to sewing skirts
for dandelions… Polyhymnia, who likes shedding gowns
for scales, who never sings, who never clowns,
who never tempts the winter’s night with a serenade—
Polyhymnia, disinterested, disinterred, delayed.
© Jim Kleinhenz
Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 8:35 PM UTC
The brides have passed all of the sentence tests
that Polyhymnia wanted. She asked
them to teach us how the earth became
a sullen crib. She thought the brides should sing
of nightmares and miracles, not freedoms.
If we have come to know our strengths, she said,
then perhaps we have come to love our failures
too much. Write it. This is a test.
*If Polyhymnia, then nothing is transitory,
just the vast ebbing out of what always flows away.
As Polyhymnia is, there is no sentence here,
just the quiet susurration in her lips.
Of Polyhymnia, her stone lips breathe silence,
for espousal has always been a poem to awake to.
For ancient, aimless, almost airless Polyhymnia,
the courtier of our language,
the world is made up for us. Always.*
© Jim Kleinhenz
Jan 18, 2012
Jan 18, 2012 at 4:35 PM UTC
They're still standing like statues of marble rock.
They still linger in humans hearts bearing the gift of old.
Nine daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne keeper
of world's memory.
With eloquence and harmony of voice Calliope presides in epic poetry.
In heaven of holy spirit Urania withers away
warden of philosophy.
Sacred is her hymn, sacred is her poetry, sacred is Polyhymnia
the dancer.
Joy and laughter brings Thalia with comedy and idyllic poetry
and men overcome their grief.
With a lyre in hand Clio tells the story of the world
but with no delight Melpomene narrates the tragedy of this world.
She is the loved one, the desired one Erato of loving poetry
giver of delight.
And close to the sea stood another, with a lyre in hand Terpsichore
dancing with her daughters, the Sirens.
Jul 4, 2019
Jul 4, 2019 at 11:18 AM UTC
*
*Heart aglow with praise
Songs that heals the souls of all
Born, the rich harvest*
*
Jul 5, 2020
Jul 5, 2020 at 3:29 AM UTC
Entire lives encircle Sol believing that the ancient gods are a fiction.
These joyless sacks of empty flesh have never been graced with a moment in your presence. In that instant, all doubt is dispelled, for at your birth the Muses crafted their ultimate blessing to us mortals.
You embody the inspiration of Polyhymnia, Erato, and Calliope;
sacred, epic, love poetry flows unbidden from even the most
leaden of souls when you are near.
Dreams of grand comedies, heroic tragedies, and monumental
histories spring forth in you wake; each worthy of the pens of
Thalia, Melpomene, and Clio.
Your every sound and step cause Euterpe and Terpsichore to glow
with pride.
But possibly the most magnificent caress cam from Urania; for you,
my Love, are the incarnation of the naked stars in all their
infinite beauty, enshrined on this unworthy Earth.
I wish I could let her know I still ... everything.
Dec 26, 2019
Dec 26, 2019 at 11:33 PM UTC