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MIDNIGHT COLLAPSE

Submitted by Eumolpus on Tue, 2017-07-11 13:28

I have misplaced my muse, have you seen her?
Once she wandered off in a Poussin painting;
She went running up the hill totally naked,
Condemned for eternity to watch group sex
By muscular gods, as her feet became hooves.

I believe I saw her last sitting by the river road.
She might have joined the caravan of geese
Gliding on the trade winds to the rich swamp,
Like biking downhill the mountain pass for miles,
To the promised valley with the perfect pub.

I do remember she was very anxious in the garden,
Philosophically on the bench among the many hues,
When the sun sneaked though like a stage light
She might have conjoined with the moss covered rocks
Whose greenness was charged with a neon glow.

O where, O where are you muse, damn it!
You are not here, now, when I need you most.
Bring on the drink, the noted weed, the sad cantatas!
How am I to compose anything without her caresses?
You know the saying- no apple tree, no poet he.

I guess she got tired of feeding me, drifted away;
I was a homeless dog following her around the station.
Maybe she hitched a ride on the last train to Paris
To rediscover the age of surrealism, where we met;
The Trinity of Truth- la passion, la vie, les rêves.

She’s probably flirting at the dance hall with the locals.
I have just a vague memory of her body; our bodies,
Our immaculate lips, soft fingertips; But it’s midnight,
And I’m just hanging like the laundry on a wire
Waiting for the storm winds to blow me asunder.

Last few words: 
"noted weed" see Shakespeare sonnet 76
Editing stage: 
Editing - rough draft

Comments

weirdelf

Tue, 2017-07-11 14:50

weirdelf's picture
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Though I express it less graciously than you. My muse is a slut who runs off with other poets for months at a time, sometimes even with rock musicians, the little hussy.

I enjoy your work, you're a fine poet and a skilled word-crafter. I seldom have anything to offer though, there is little scope for critique.

So I offer a reading-
https://soundcloud.com/neopoet/midnight-collapse-by-eumolpus
May I have your permission to post it on our Neopoet Facebook site? And perhaps with your non-nom de plume?

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

Eumolpus

Tue, 2017-07-11 15:54

Eumolpus's picture

I cannot remember ever a compliment such as yours, and it is quite humbling. Why do we write, why bother going through this torture to which so few of the world have any interest in at all? I think to have a comment such as yours is the answer...
And it comes from an very experimental and unique poet. I enjoy your freedom, and the joy of how you write, as well as your sharpness on craft. You are a poet with a lot of reach, and as we said in NY, a lot of moxie. It is a pleasure reading your work, and listening to your very deep voice, reading poetry from the gut, as it should be.
I will contact you with more info on me.

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

author comment

Geezer

Tue, 2017-07-11 20:15

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treatment of the muse problem. My inspiration being more of a male nature, I'm not sure if I should classify it as a muse. Still, to have said inspiration depart for unknown parts, for unknown lengths of time, is most disconcerting. I really appreciated the rhythm and it was done in an almost Victorian tone, which I am a big fan of. Nice read, ~ Gee.
.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

Eumolpus

Tue, 2017-07-11 21:43

Eumolpus's picture

First few drafts the muse was kind of a neuter being, a shadow...it evolved to be a lady, as was the muses of antiquity, and I think it worked better. Thanks for your comments.
So what do we do when the muse takes a vacation? Lately I've been reading a a lot more poetry anthologies and some philosophy, and wait for that moment, like in "Planes Trains and Automobiles" if you know the film... The writer is stuck on the first line , "The evening was...." and the old witch character says "the evening was 'sultry " , and with that word, he's off!!

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

author comment

brittle light

Thu, 2017-07-13 15:47

brittle light's picture

I believe the film you were referring to was "Throw Momma From The Train"

I'll get back to you later with my thoughts on your poem

regards,

Al

Eumolpus

Thu, 2017-07-13 09:30

Eumolpus's picture

Much thanks for the correction! That one line was the take-away from that film, which I would like to see again. A great study in writer's block within a wild comedy.

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

author comment

brittle light

Thu, 2017-07-13 16:17

brittle light's picture

so definitive are your images,
exciting the theme,
proving you don't really need
that wandering trollop
(although you do make her sound delectable)

of course, we all know the idea of a " lost muse" is a psychological excuse for intermittent talent
...sometimes we gots it...and sometimes we don't!

I enjoyed reading this poem, and hopefully, will have learned to be more imaginative in my own works

thank you,

Al

scribbler

Thu, 2017-07-13 16:45

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I've written quite a few poems about the loss of muse but never treated it as seriously as you have in this excellent poem.........stan

Eumolpus

Thu, 2017-07-13 21:36

Eumolpus's picture

Your comments are so humbly appreciated!
Temporary loss of muse, like loosing teeth...but at least there are implants! It's impossible to imagine any poet who doesn't occasionally face the blank page. Much easier for artists who can just draw, or musicians who can play scales and keep themselves busy. Poetry is words, all mental. The most demanding craft!

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

author comment

weirdelf

Fri, 2017-07-14 14:50

weirdelf's picture
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"Why do we write, why bother going through this torture to which so few of the world have any interest in at all?"
I am going to post that question as a blog, it will be interesting to see the answers.

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

jane210660

Sun, 2017-10-22 07:01

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well with the sentiment.
I really enjoyed reading this, an eternal problem for those with a poetic bent, beautifully stated.
Some wonderful imagery.
I stand as usual, in awe.
Jx

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