Becoming The Muse

I want punctuated paragraphs of
words wrapped in a holy form;
a poem –
a promise
I want that sing-song element- repeatedly reading how I am a prayer and a sin
I want the rusty taste of metaphors in words of affirmations to dance on my tongue
I want a longer, “I love you.”

Are you a muse?
Because I suddenly want to sip some gin,
as I write a poem about promises, prayers & sin,
corny metaphors that taste like maize and rust,
pen kissing paper till it must but blush,
how in absence of light,
I’m a star shining brightly in the darkness of your night

Sometimes I’m a muse
Sometimes a fall

I am a bloody Mary
A meal raw

I’m a pen and a poem
A star and the darkness

I’m all things messy –
all things art.

Oh what a messy muse,
both the pen and the poem.

The art and the artist
chaos and the grace.

Dawn and dusk,
when day and night blur.

---

A collaboration in response to a tweet by Wendie answering why one would want to date a writer…

About the author

Wendie is a nurse by profession. She is an avid reader, a poet and a short story writer. (unpublished) She writes for Zambia Book Club on their Facebook page.