Young Writers Society

To My Darling Muse

Flame, my tormentor, stalker, taunter,
You are just out of reach,
Stretched and jeering face,
I see you in the shadows,
I see you in my pain,
You want my blood,
You want my breath,
You take all that I can give you,
And yet you don’t see fit –
To give me anything in return.
I learn all the tricks of this trade,
But still you won’t reward me –
With relief from this craving.

Fire, storm, lightning strike,
You are like nature,
Progress, but only through pain,
Blacken, scorch, blister peel,
Your heat before you touch me makes me cry,
Yet I cannot help but reach out,
Fling my body into angry searing silk.

I want nothing more than to measure up,
Zenith is so far from me,
I can hardly see it from where I stand.
I am helpless and cold here,
And you just walk away,
This is a death march,
As sure as my ancestor’s scars,
Shaved headed, pathetic and mute,
I am in desolation,
Despair, like the soft red hollow at the devil’s throat.

Candles on my window,
Just cheap imitations of the real thing,
I long for a flame somewhere,
A primal fire surrounded by the heartbeat,
And all that sound that resonates –
With it’s twin in my soul.
Earth goddess voice, power, strength,
You, like a night enchantress,
Keep me going beyond my strength,
Sharp teeth behind soft-liped smile,
Your cold words are all that matters,
When will I be worthy of you?
Why can’t I satisfy your furnace belly of greed?
You want all that I am and all that I am not,
When will I have given enough?
You entertain my passing whims,
Until you scorn them in retrospect.

Why can’t you be the steady fir,
Not this wild fire melting my forest thoughts?
I left day behind for you,
I left night behind too,
I have become a slave to solitude,
All for hope of your company,
Your heat, all the pain and joy,
This self destructive need to hold you near,
But my hands cannot keep water, sand or flame.
Time, slanting light through leaves,
Purple in the depths of twilight,
Blue lady sky arcing over the world,
All these beauties seen out of the corner of my eye,
I can see what no one else can,
I can see peoples’ hearts and souls,
I can see all the black around –
The punctures for life to get in,
I can see whatever you want me to see,
And yet you deny me satisfaction.

I am on this fool’s quest,
I cannot be turned away,
With you dancing ahead of me,
Taunting me with final realizations,
I am the stupid donkey,
Or Sisyphus on his hill,
And I cannot move an ocean with a sieve.

Golden, charred, smudged and dirty,
You are ugly with your darkness,
You are so beautiful,
I can hardly bear to see you there,
You, like the harem dancer,
Showing all that I might have,
If only you would open your mouth.
I can’t understand your language,
It’s beautiful and haunting,
It’s like singing and screaming,
It’s like a whisper and a murmur,
It’s the smoke from your fire,
It lingers on my skin and in my head,
It’s the only thing of you that I can keep,
And even that I cannot feel.

I have not much else to give you,
Please be satisfied soon.

Okay I was pretty impressed by the first stanza and this part in particular:
I see you in the shadows,
I see you in my pain
This part was really good. But then,
You want my blood,
You want my breath,
Hm...it's confusing to me...well, not so much is it confusing as it a little morbid.
In the first stanza alone, you sounded as though you were talking to two different people, or you're just a very indesicive person. Now, I could be wrong, but that's just my perception.
The rest of the poem was so-so. It took a little long to actually get to the point. There's nothing wrong with long poems, except this one just seemed to talk about the same thing over and over and over again.
However, it's still a decent piece of work--and it could be better if it weren't so long.