The writings of Oddpoet

My Muse screams at me

Awaken Poet Odd…. Awaken and sing the songs YOU MUST SING!

Inces­sant she is! She reveals her­self to me. I clutch a pil­low and cover my head for she will not let me be.

Like a tor­ren­tial sum­mer down­pour, the rag­ing of a river wild, the growl of a hun­gry ani­mal or a Child’s gen­tle smile.

”The clock ticks Poet Odd. You have strummed but a chord, one note you have made. There is much more to your song that really must be played.”

“Leave me be Muse! I seek Diony­sus sweet dreams!

Kneel at the altar of Bac­chus and request obliv­ion melo­di­ous embrace.

I seek the night,

Not sun­shine on my face.

I seek no companionship

Nor a Lady, fair, dressed in leather or lace.

Lone­li­ness is my only friend

It suits my bit­ter taste.”

She chuck­led and prod­ded and urged me to my task,

Her face radi­ant, her beauty unsurpassed.

She glowed like moon­light cast­ing shad­ows about the room

Sud­denly she shone so bright she pierced the bit­ter gloom.

I cried, “Words are use­less, pathetic human constructs,

Mal­formed metaphors and sim­plis­tic Similes,

They can never pierce the human soul,

That can never be.”

“I tried too many times to pen­e­trate that gloom,

But in the end it is the Poet’s bit­ter doom”

“Words have failed me in the past,

Why take on this use­less task”

My muse smiled at me and dimmed her bril­liant light.

“Poet Odd I am your muse I will give you sight.

You were born for this quest,

Your self-doubt is just a test.

Which you shall pass,

And put your doubts to rest.”

“Do you for­get so easily?

When you sang that song in church,

Your voice strong and mighty.

I was at your side that day.

You threw away the paper for you had words to say.

Your voice boomed across that room filled with pas­sion and love.

Some­times vehe­ment, some­times angry, most times caress­ing like a vel­vet glove.”

“They laughed

They cried,

They thought,

They sighed.”

“You changed hearts that day!

For your words were strong and true,

Did they not call you Word Man?

Tears in their eyes, did they not hug you and shake your hand?”

“Remem­ber one thing Poet Odd,

Your words are your sword,

How­ever, you must wield them straight and true,

That is why you are here,

That is what you must do”

“Arise and write Poet Odd for I will never leave you be!”

I rose slowly from the couch.

Bit­ter tears stream­ing down my face.

It was use­less to resist her pleas

So I grabbed my writ­ers pouch.

Out came my quill,

Indeed a bit­ter pill.

I started to write and the words flowed.

My Muse smiled.

I

Wept