Global Trek - Maiden Muse

Upon a night unlit by moon or star,

I gazed upon the visage of a lass.

And though the night was cold and she was far,

I still could see her image through the glass.

I set aside the mirror and I thought

Of everything surrounding her, I’d seen.

Then, taking it all in my brain, I sought

To use the information that I’d gleaned.

And so I set to trek across the globe.

I knew just where to look from all the clues.

And when I saw her my poor heart exploded

Finally, I’d met my Maiden Muse.

I crossed such ancient lands by land and sea

I crossed three oceans, longing to find thee.

Thirteen

 

I had an aching concept for a poem.

It wormed its way into my brain today.

I felt compelled to give a proper home

To all these lovely words that came to play.

And as it played it spread to half a page.

Contrived, it told an old familiar tale.

About an evil wizard and a sage.

Who lived in a fair Kingdom in the Vale.

But much like many old, familiar plots

It seemed to be a little bit clichéd.

And even though impressive in its spots

It’s best that I just leave it where it lay.

For there will always be another worm.

An exercise in madness, I confirm.

Moon Attendant

 I dreamed a lonely world that’s not 

    Forsaken nor is stirred although it

Does get kinda lonely in my head.

The only issue, guv —

     Well, it’s about the girl I love.

I haven’t seen'a hair of her in bed.

She must have gone away

    I really hate she couldn’t stay, but there’s a

Whole entire village to sustain.

There’s lots of it to come you’re gonna

    Feel a little dumb

But every little error feeds my growing brain.

With all of us dependent

    On an astronaut attendant

To bring us food and water from the moon.

The reason I’m insistent

    Is the last girlfriend was distant and I’d not

Like to see her face again real soon.

Eighteen

When I was only 18 I had 

Seen a lot of things

Living under Father’s thumb — 

To little hope, I’d cling.

I tried to stay away from home 

As often as I could

A little time to see the world 

Would do enormous good.

I saw it was much bigger than

My father would confess

And lots to keep one entertained — 

Goodness, we were blessed.

We saw all of the buildings and 

We loved to walk downtown.

Things did not go South until 

The time I settled down.

Way too young to think so big; 

Alas, I made mistakes.

And through all fault of my unknown, 

My heart would have to break.

Some would look at my life now

And think I never mended

But lack of my material needs

Has been my true unending.

Not Twelve

I haven’t written po’try in awhile.

I’ve been too busy doing other things.

But when I saw your sweet and lucid smile

I had to try to put words to your wings.

But how do I describe the way you laugh?

That belly-borrowed hoot by human owl —

And how do I explain the many maths

That greet me when I try to sate your scowl?

So try, might, I to put your grace to words,

I fail at this again, again, again.

It’s almost like my vision swiftly blurred

As soon as I applied my page to pen.

Instead, my words fall far short of your truth.

I can't describe your beauty or your youth.

Eleven

She loves me so devotedly and true.

That I say she has never loved before.

And I'm not sure exactly what to do.

It's only me who she seems to adore

I know my lover loves me by the look

Upon her face when I tell her goodbye.

She doesn’t even beg for a reprieve.

In fact, my lady then begins to cry.

And when I begged her hand she wept and wept.
The tears just kept on coming whilst she sobbed.

For I’m the secret that she never kept.

But somehow I feel like I'm being jobbed.

But what did you just say? She cannot stand?

My adoration or my withered hand?

Ten

The forest seems so very much alive.

It’s all connected in myster'yous ways.

And though you scorch her surface, she survives.

The heart of what is here cannot be phased.

It speaks in ways no ear could ever hear.

In chemicals and quantum particles.

When just one plant is damaged there are tears

It’s true according to some articles.

So when you hurt the forest there is pain.

Everything has feelings you must see.

Together they rejoice when there is rain.

And sunny days do fill them all with glee.

It's quantum on an elemental scale.

Entangled trees throughout the hidden vale.

Nine

An empty-hearted person would abstain

From any future conquests of the soul.

A river flowing backward through my brain.

And suddenly I lose complete control.

If you’re like me you’re losing half your mind.

Trying to keep busy and keep safe.

And any self-improvement you should find

Well, it’s a chance to grow and to replace.

The days all melt together when you’re home

Though Isolation fits you like a shoe.

You’ve prob’ly heard the saying ‘When in Rome.’

Do unto Caesar that which he is due.

But did you know that Nero had a lyre?

The last thing we could see there through the fire.

Eight

Eros’ quill of arrows through my soul.

A feeling that can never be defined.

As lustful as a story ever told.

Of creatures, gods and people... and their lies.

I’m not surprised it took a couple blows.

My heart has always hardened at first sight

But when I saw your face I swear it froze.

And arrows from a cherub got me right.

It built, in me, a welling of desire.

A wanting and a yearning for your all.

You, nude, in all your beauty and your fire.

That burns for me and no one else at all.

And Cupid said we’d love forever more.

A lie he’s likely told a time before.

Seven

Familiar wafts of scent flow from her hair—

A hug elicits flashbacks in your mind.

A Pink Floyd concert back in ‘94—

A moment frozen in its place and time.

Her breasts, pressed against your chest as if

She wants to send a message with her bust.

And suddenly you recall regal riffs

Which play inside your head. Their lovely lust—

You wonder if she ever hears them too.

An eavesdrop on the workings of your brain—

And if she did then what on Earth she’d do.

To know your thoughts, she’d think you were insane.

You wonder about asking her to dance.

Then later hear about her gay romance.

Six

Whenever I feel grateful I exclaim:

“I’m thankful for this bounty and this hoard.”

Though I’m a poor man still I must proclaim”

“I’m glad for what I have—that I’m adored.”

For who can be a poor man with these gifts?

To make sense of the world as few else can?

And pen with neither quill nor paper this:

An eloquent proposal for the land.

But you approach and spread your nega-vibes.

And try and paint my mood with breaths of yours.

Try as you may I will not thus subside.
I will not wade into those darkened moors.

But life is seldom more than what you know

I can’t believe you’d try to steal my glow.