Thursday, April 05, 2018

Muse, As They Fly Past~

Image titled Write an Epic Poem Step 4

Today, the incomplete ‘me’
   cuts me into pieces.
My heart wants to write...  
  But, words are soaked wet,
Ah, my muse is dripping wet tonight!
It offers nothing but recycled clichés
Spare me the pain, oh dear muse,
Can I not get you back again?

Words move my mind a little,
But scatter like a bunch of pigeons,
  The echoes huddle in the curtain of damp shadow.
   I just hope, my muse has not fallen into waters
So deep that it will never resurface.
The more I worry about it,
   the more, I discover…
A part of ‘me’ has moved out.
Oh, my muse….
Can I not get you back again?

Dumb in the company of my fellow poets
I watch movements shaping before my eyes…
Mechanically, listlessly, tirelessly.
Ah, those are the shadows of perish- the
   Wet, decayed thoughts of the backyard;
meaningless. The ache becomes unbearable…
What do I do? I speak to myself in a confident voice:
‘I need to search for the muse that I have lost.  
I shall not cease from strife
Until I bring poetry back to my life!’

And so, I hang down, at this edge
Begin to write, becoming me.

Writing takes focus. Dedication. Energy. And, sometimes, we get stuck. Sometimes we can battle through. Sometimes we can’t. Usually worries fill the head and stop the words from getting out. This is where writer’s block gets tricky. And it is more frustrating if you are trying to beat a deadline and you are out of words…

And THAT is exactly where I got stuck! Am excited to come back to PU…


  1. Panchali, it is so delightful to see you here! I know the feeling when the words get stuck. I try to just push through and keep writing till they start to flow more smoothly again. I really admire this poem. Seems like no writers' block happening here! A wonderful poem!

  2. "But, words are soaked wet,
    Ah, my muse is dripping wet tonight!
    It offers nothing but recycled clichés"

    ANd in the end I see yourself as the muse, hanging on the washline to sober up--errr--to recover from that feeling of drowning. Here is the beginning, when we stop waiting for the outside influence. A marvelous poem. I'm happy you decided to write to this prompt.

  3. So nice to see you writing here, Panchali di.
    I love that word-image of the scattered pigeons. I can even hear their flapping wings. Sure no writers' block here :)

  4. You write beautifully. Write about your worries ,write about your feelings about your worries. Write about everything that happens to you. Trivial though it may seem to you, it is interesting to others. It forges a connection and poetry is probably the best means to accomplish this . You have been gone too long.

  5. I too know this. I have long lean months where my imagination appears to sleep for a long long while...
    Sometimes when I write (now) and post, then read it later, I am embarrassed, wonder why I ever posted.
    I think it fairly safe to say your muse has returned. Your words are beautiful, thoughtful.
    Anna :o]

  6. those days when your stuck can be frustrating... but the joy comes from persisting and having the words flow...


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