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A Thousand Muses

There is quickly surging in here
A rising stream of what has been
A thousand muses now, to write about
Their pursuit is my only want some nights

Another night of over-driven charm
Another taxi ride of careless kissing home
A thousand muses; they soon add up
Too many names, too many faces come and go

A life is lived the wrong way around
I've grown up to grow down...

That amiable and lovable image is soon in tatters
Stains all over the character and the name
A thousand muses just cancel it all out
Phrases repeated too many times now to be true

In this dark chamber, pretty birds linger
Some circle so wantonly around here
A thousand muses just for the taking
Some people don't know how to speak a 'no'

I've become a notch on a thousand bed posts
I missed the point of what it is I miss the most...

Can't let them think there's something more to this
Or soon enough I'll find myself in too deeply
With a thousand angry hearts to answer for
A thousand muses all of whom so badly hate me

Bleak lists form on scraps of paper
In dirty bedrooms, on sweaty sheets
These thousand muses do not inspire me
There's no emotion in these unfeeling flings...

A thousand muses; there may soon be
The more they add up; the less is left of me...

 

(FEB 2010 - Post long-term relationship one night stands... a false economy. )

◄ Pull Apart The Perfect Nest

To Live In The Light ►

Comments

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Thu 12th Aug 2010 12:24

If you are notches on their bedposts, why should they hate you? I can't get my head around who is doing what to whom. Or the use of the word 'muses'. There are many superb lines. The idea, as Francine has pointed out, is excellent, but I am muddled where I was expecting to be well sucked in to your concept. This may be just me.

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Francine

Wed 11th Aug 2010 16:44

What starts as initially intriguing, ends up in emptiness, sadness,
and ultimately profound loneliness.
You have conveyed that well in this poem, Thomas.

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