"I am hearing poetry when awake, dreaming poetry when asleep, breathing poetry with each breath, I am living in a poem."

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Musty Painted Muse


This musty, paint splattered room my muse.
I stare into its shadows seeing images
to feed words from my mind to paper.

Imagination runs its fingers along the dark patterns,
feeling the tales they want written,
Broken hearts, death, joy raise goose bumps on my skin.

Melancholy crawls from the corner
crying red tears through my thoughts.
Sadness rises from rhymes and meter.

A red dawn sunrise shines across mountains.
The morning speaks of love sonnets,
a crimson flourish drawing hearts through verse.

Death wails among splatters,
a life taken by a murderer’s  hand.
Dark communication pours from black ink.

My muse, an abandoned building
sitting on a dying city street,
unconventional, glorious…I listen when it speaks.

©Susie Clevenger 2011







5 comments :

Nanka said...

A lot of red coloring in you beautiful poem Susie!! Love where your imagination to the prompt took you!!

Tarang Sinha said...

You have extracted a variety of imaginations from this image:) Nice composition!

Ruchi Jain said...

a creative one...

Sherry Blue Sky said...

HOL-EE mackerel, this is a wonderful poem! Love "melancholy crawls from the corner crying red tears". LOVE the final stanza describing the muse and how you listen when it speaks. Wow - great writing! I love it!

Tigerbrite said...

Your muse certainly went to town on this one. So very good.

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