When you lost your muse;
your perfect notebook clean
yet unabused. Soft jazz,
coffee, basking in a velvet light.
Nothing. Void. No word.
You’re flipping through your dictionary
finding only unpoetic words:
prosaic buckminsterfullerenes and
quixotic deals, procrastinate.
Your muse has left or at least
she’s biding time
hiding underneath your bed,
posing as a dust bunny
or a green eyed monster.
Be careful when you look
as many times
a muse have claws,
some or even venomous,
or sly as slugs.
If you’re careless it might scratch
your blue-bell eyes.
You better broom a bit.
Vacuum clean or make your bed.
Clean your dishes…
When suddenly she’s there again,
with honeysuckle words, and ink
starts flowing through your veins.
Have you noticed how your words
come easy when you grab a broom?
Maybe muses grow
from fear of dust.
Dust Balls by Edith Vonnegut
Kim is hosting dVerse Poetics and want us to write poetry to save a life. I wanted to save a poet lacking muse. Also linking to Tuesday Platform at toads.
—
June 6, 2017
What about the poor librarian? Seriously, I love this poem and it’s one that we all need from time to time. I have several broken dictionaries, which I will continue to use until they fall apart completely. I particularly love the lines:
‘your perfect notebook clean
yet unabused. Soft jazz,
coffee, and soft light on your desk’;
‘Your muse has left or at least
she’s biding time
hiding underneath your bed,
posing as a dust bunny
or a green eyed monster;
and
‘When suddenly she’s there again,
with honeysuckle words, and ink
starts flowing through your veins’.
I had a lot of fun writing this poem actually…
It’s fun to read, too! Dust bunnies and green-eyed monsters under the bed – I have my cats 😉
Cat hair bunnies?
More like hairball bunnies!
Under the bed is such a treasure trove…children lose their school books there for years at a time unless they have valiant mothers to venture forth and challenge those dust bunnies….
My muse took flight while I was in hospital and I haven’t seen her since.
I’m sure you can find her again…
Excellent! I esp loved “as many times
a muse have claws,”
A wonderful conceit – thanks!
Without the muses telling us what to say, I don’t know what we’d do. But even their absences pass.
Whack, whack. Thanks, I needed that, Bjorn. OK, clean up my life and the damn muse will show her face again. Dust bunnies, huh? And here I thought she was out shoe shopping again. Going for a broom now. (Great write, by the way!) (And where did you find that picture? Uh,no, on second thought, better not to know…)
I love that last idea, so much. And the flow and word bump and rhythm of this. Perfect, B.
So honest, so true–I dig all the soft jazz & caffeine prep, and the obstinate muse. Glad to find out she can have claws. I’ve been kicked around a bit while struggling with the new ink flowing in my veins.
I love thinking about him finding his muse and then “abusing” his clean notebook … while listening to soft jazz.
I love the “blue-bell eyes.”
I can relate to this soo very much, Bjorn!❤️ There are days when words flow as though magic.. and there are those days when words refuse to cooperate! Thankfully we manage to find a balance 🙂
Your housekeeper is quite enchanting, Bjorn! I identified with the elusive muse. I guess it happens to us all from time to time. At any rate, it was quite a fun read!
Sly as slugs! Love it. The whole poem was a fun ride.
Or is it a common ground she is sweeping for? – Makes one wonder…
I don’t know where my muse is. She quite inconsistent but at least she shows up occasionally
Ha! Super sweet. I honestly don’t believe in the idea of a muse, but I do believe that creative juices flow when one does something else–preferably physical! (And all the better if there can be procrastination involved.) Just a sweet lovely poem. k.
Love the delightful ending…I think we can all relate to this.
A broom… OK taking that on prescription! Hope it works for me!
Oh boy! I need to do some cleaning then. Love the idea of muses growing from fear of dust. A lot of us can relate to this. 😀
An interesting piece! Hope your muse returns soon. They are tricky at times 🙂 Wonderfully chosen words and writing anyways 👍
wow. the imagery here. muse an green-eyed monster. bunny. nice nice. love this!
I remember my mother grabbing a broom and chasing me. She had clothes on, unlike your lady. She never could catch me.
..
Ha, no one knows how she’ll behave in need. A fun read 🙂
My muse ran off on me recently. Thankfully (hopefully) it returns. Loved reading this 🙂
It reminds me of the lemon tree. An old saying is that if the tree does not fruit, lean an axe against it for a season. Supposedly it always works. 🙂
Love the illustration! If brooms could provide inspiration, I’m all for cleaning. Otherwise…
Simply charming!
Loving the idea of my poetic muse as a dust bunny! I fear she’s multiplied as bunnies do, knowing the state of my floor under furniture. How will I recognize the original when they all come rolling/hopping out????
I know those moments all too well, all too intimately… I will come back and read this poem whenever I start despairing. I also like the idea that muses can come with claws and venom…
The blue bell eyes ring in a metaphorical and surrealism kind of way.
Love your idea of poetic muse in a visual cinema. 🙂
This is great! I really love the title! As a poet myself, it really drew me in, and I’m so glad that it did, otherwise I would have missed this amazing work of art!
Love the dust bunny and the green-eyed monster. Honeysuckle words…divine. The muse does kick in when we’re going about other things.
You’ve got something here. Björn, muses grow from dust… or procrastination. Good stuff!
A-musing!! I loved this piece as it grew in imagination, much like a muse itself. So glad you had fun writing it too, Bjorn.
This is just delightful! The muse truly does have a strange sense of timing.
perfect ~
“Your muse has left or at least
she’s biding time
hiding underneath your bed,
posing as a dust bunny
or a green eyed monster.”
lol!!! Luvved these lines best
Much love…
That was a great way to approach the subject. I need poetry (the muse) to keep me alive. I also loved “a muse have claws”. Yes indeed.
I love the ‘”soft jazz, coffee, basking in a velvet light’ while the muse waits until you have tended to your ‘good housekeeping’, the way you would for other visitors 😉
This was so much fun to read…the muse hiding… happens….sometimes after all those work, she returns for good!
And if she goes again…will remember the broom!