My Muse be Cenci!

My Muse be Cenci!

She crosses my bridge when the nights are such,
And nestled is her head in the warmth of her hands
That were cold on the day that the head left the neck
And colder still when she hurled her father over the edge.
My muse be Cenci!

Such nights, when my hand is on the verge
Of creation, and she stands upon the bridge,
And her hair flows down in the wind
Through her fingers, silken, dancing and black as my words.
Black as her blood!
My muse be Cenci!

Yet soundless, wordless, like raven-haired night birds,
Like raven-haired wings that bless my blind words,
She crosses the bridge, she spans the chaos,
And the sky is black when my page is blackened.
My muse be Cenci!

How soft is her voice when her pale lips stir,
Like a tulip’s fur, and the words from her,
In the sun burnt sky, so black in ashes,
That the moon-wrought rush does steal those words,
But I steal them back.
My muse be Cenci!

O ivory head, so severed from her heart,
And handled in her fingers, so far away, still far away.
O her heart still bleeds, for justice pleads,
But pale scaffolds and grey did rear high that day.
My muse be Cenci!

But the guillotine sword she hides past her lips,
To smite the wayward rages wrought,
Despite the night her words have brought.
And the stars have fled before the end.
O, I pray to the rush to move yet slower.
And I pray in my wordless glances to her.
My muse be Cenci!

She, Fury incarnate--she, but tyrant’s Fate--
She will cut my string a hundred times,
She will measure my words and not my crimes,
And the darkest circle of heaven at night,
Is the crown in her hair by birth and right.
My muse be Cenci!

But the weight of the sky cannot stop the birds,
And the seas cannot hold the fire-mount’s rush
When it sears underneath the sea-god’s skin.
And islands then rise to the skies unchecked,
O, how like the birds!
My muse be Cenci!

So too her vengeance had held no bound,
And her dark words no lips can ever sound,
But ink-like blood does shape those whispers.
The verses of rebel’s and mine are hers.
My muse be Cenci!

So too our thoughts are now oppressed,
By ourselves, by tyrants at our behest,
And I am a bard of those rebellions
That free the mind of the weary millions.
And so my muse be Cenci!
My muse be Cenci!

Let your every word now break and flow,
Like the tears in your eyes that your neighbours sow,
That break the dam of our glass-blown eyes,
And the words that come do not despise.
My muse be Cenci!

And her tangled, flowing, curled black strands,
In my lips I taste, but she no more stands,
At her half-bridge post in my half-wrought night,
And the lights all have fled me!
And the Holy See does pass decree-
That my muse be Cenci!
My muse be Cenci!

*In honour of the dear Beatrice Cenci, whose story can be found in the link below*

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beatrice_Cenci

*these verses are experimental as i have never broken my lines in the way i have here. comments to that regard, however, are welcomed*

Hey, Pal! I read the article in wiki and would like to read this. *reads*

And nestled is her head in the warmth of her hands,
That were cold on the day that the head left the neck,

I don't think commas are needed in these lines. =/

Such nights, [s]when[/s] my hand is on the verge
Of creation, and she stands upon the bridge,
And her hair flows down in the wind
Through her fingers, silken, dancing and black as my words.
Black as her blood!

This is an awkward sentence. =/ My changes might work better, but I don't know if you find them acceptable for what you're going for.

And the stars have fled before the end,
[s]And[/s] I pray to the rush to move yet slower,
[s]And[/s] I pray in my wordless glances to her.

I would probably put a period at the end of each line as well as the changes.

She, Fury incarnate, she, but tyrant’s Fate,

Replace the commas with double dashes. (--) She, fury incarnate--she, but tyrant's fate--

And the seas cannot hold the fire-mount’s rush,
When it sears underneath the sea-god’s skin,
And islands then rise to the skies unchecked, like the birds.

Delete comma at the end of first line.

But ink-like blood does shape those whispers,

I'd put a period here too.

And I am a bard of those rebellions,
That free the mind of the weary millions.

Delete this comma. ^_^

I really liked this! Very good imagery and wording! I give poets so much credit for their work. I can never do poetry. Bravo!

My corrections up above are solely based on grammar. It's up to you poets to decide if they also count for poetry or not. I'm always afraid to crit poems 'cause I know so little about them. However, I did like this. Very good job.

I hope I helped, at least, a little. ^^;

Keep writing!

Jabber, the One and Only!

Awfully helpful, Jabs. I appreciate it whole heartedly. Will make corrections immediately.

This isn't the best I had read. No offense of course but the grammar here is poor and some of the lines don't make sense. Try to make them to make sense. Before you submit it read over it first. That can help if you made any mistakes or not . Good ;luck with writing.