a Muse (Prologue)

Урок 28 - The Muse (by Gloom82)

Another masterpiece by Anton Semenov. Do you like? No?! Damn him… go away!

– Write!

Cold water flows down my face and I open my eyes. Damn him! Again… My nose inhales fusty air and I understand that this nightmare isn’t just a delirium. It’s real… I take up the wet pen. I write ‘fuck you’ carefully in the moist writing-book. Letters are dancing and I close my eyes, but I can’t close my ears.

– She will write. She can. She’s trying to rebel but I can force her.

…give me the strength to speak and to be silent
give me the strength to be a lamb and a tyrant…

Some might suppose that this is my paradise. I would agree if it were not for one zesty detail… What would you name the paradise that you can’t leave? I call it ‘a gaol’. Do you want to debate this? No? I thought not…

…give me the strength to inflict the death-blow
give me the strength to endure the last throe…

Sometimes I try to hide myself. I squeeze my puny body into the corner behind the door and close my eyes. This trick doesn’t work. She finds me, finds me every time. I still don’t know how she does this. I’m always on the alert yet I’m always taken unawares. She moves like a weasel. She has small sharp teeth and eyes like gimlets…

…give me the strength to hold the king’s crown
give me the force to stay the court clown…

– What are you mumbling? Stop it! You can’t fool me! I know you from the ground up! Write! Stop talking! Write! Write!

…give me the strength to lift up the baton
give me the strength to stop the marathon…

She bends over me. Muses are the most cruel and pitiless creatures.
I curse the first fucking day when I wrote my first poem. I curse the first fucking day when I saw her small sharp teeth and her eyes like gimlets.
I curse the first fucking day when I smiled at her. She…

My Afflation. My Curse. My Muse… I lose my consciousness. Finally… (to be continued)

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014

181 thoughts on “a Muse (Prologue)”

  2. Not only am I impress with your blog design…but I am astonished by how outstanding of a poet you are…so damn impress pardon me I could hear and see someone standing up reading that out loud with such force as I read it.

    Liked by 1 person

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  4. Firstly, thank you for “liking” my post. It’s nice to know something thrown out into the ether gets picked up by someone, somewhere. I decided to come and check out YOUR blog – and I liked what I found! My muse is like a sultry siren. She is beautiful and alluring, but fickle. When she hides herself in the dark, I can hear her laughing, but she is a hard bitch to find.

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    • Hee hee hee… we’re companions in misfortune… or soldiers of fortune 😛
      Thank you so much for your warm comment and your letter (by the way, your username still links to your blog.) Please, have a great weekend and best of luck with finding of this hard bitch 😀

      Tia.

      Like

  6. Brilliant! There is so much to like with this introduction. Muses control my life for the most part. I have nine of them. The daughters of Mnemosyne. Sometimes there is a tug of war. I lose and I’m forced to write. I can pay bills and eat latter, I suppose. 🙂

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    • WOW… Thank you! You flatter me, good sir 😛
      Yes, I guess I’m a bit addicted by Muses too. They recruited me without my permission and I overcame a long way from hate to love. I was taught to hate and love by them. And of course, I’m not too bad when I pay bills and eat latter 😀
      Have a great week, you and your nine mistresses!

      Liked by 1 person

  10. Ah, and you were my Blood Hunter’s Moon Muse for that tanka I wrote. I love your post, it made me think of parts 3-6 of the poem below that in 7 days will be a year old, via http://21shadesofblue.com/2013/10/21/6-new-poems-untitled-96-lines-part-1-of-2/

    “Untitled 96 Lines”
    by Ry Hakari

    IV: Minuteman Music

    At the watchtower a beacon’s fire
    polishes off a glossary of modernity
    “The baseborn” rises from the ranks
    tottered until fallen in, harness broken
    Alienation exists with all lands foreign
    but a turn of the tides while drifting
    was forecast for settling preliminaries
    and halcoyn birds as signs of the times

    V: Broken Past, I’ve Broken Past

    I felt inspired, and like I had a fire
    I needed to send across the wires
    I saw the silhouettes of these lines
    Like foreboding shadows cast from
    Light like sentences inside my mind
    Like Edison’s lightbulb, an invention
    Recommissioned with a pull-string
    Ideas burn out before their betters

    VI: Vindicate My Soul-Fire’s Blue Ballad

    The prosaic posturing of
    that mosaic mouthpiece
    Her lips like luring in liss
    instead of out the abyss
    Halcyon of the Morning
    When will you wake up,
    speaking like a Phoenix?
    We’re birds-of-a-feather

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