At the dVerse pub for poets Peter from Australia is pulling pints and calling the shots. This week he offers beginnings for our consideration. I don’t know if my first line grabs anyone or not but it came to me and I grabbed on to it. This is my first d’Verse response in a couple months, so I am not letting go. This is my poem for Meeting the Bar, and with “way” in the title and 44 words exactly I am giving a nod to Lisa’s Quadrille #120 prompt from Monday.
Way of the Muse
This one is carved lean by hunger
bone sharp wary, lurks at shadowed edge
uncertain cower unfolding to a pounce
for it’d rather hunt than beg
this night it laps at moon-milk
senses hunger-hardened, whet
ink-blood tracks on snow-white page
Emptied, it’s sated, fed.
That’s a wonderful gothic verse, kicking off with an intriguing opening – I particularly liked ‘carved’ in that first line – it suggests both the shape of hunger – but also a totem invoking some other-worldly spirit. Terrific piece and punchy beginning. thanks for sharing this.
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Thank you for reading it so well! (I didn’t know I’d done all that)
I enjoyed your examples and discussion of beginnings at the Pub. And am relieved to have gotten a poem to share with the d’verse poets after a dry spell. Thank you for the prompt.
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“it’d rather hunt than beg” … love the strength and attitude in those words. Thoroughly enjoyed your poem.
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Thank you! Yeah it’s been pretty lean lately, it’s getting hangry. Glad this worked.
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Without a title I would have guessed this was a wild predator that’s seen slim pickins for awhile. To see the title, that it’s a muse, makes me feel a little sad. When I think muse I think an angel-like being that is glorious to behold. To know a muse was on hard times would make me hurt on a global level as they are who keep the world going. You do a sharp, lean character study. I like the “whet ink-blood tracks” with the double meaning and glad the critter was fed 🙂 Thanks for the nod on the “way” quadrille prompt.
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I’m sorry to make you sad. Yes, I guess it is a bit harsh on the muse. We may need relationship counseling. (Me and my muse, not you and me) Maybe it should have been called way of the poem. I don’t really feel a muse, but a poem just comes to me or it doesn’t for the most part. I really wanted to play Monday but didn’t get my way.
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Where do you think they come from?
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White tigers, black bears
things forgotten under stairs
mute mouthed words and stars that chirp
natural gas and world bellied burps?
or maybe when the stars align
if tea is poured and if there’s time
and if I let myself be led
the poem pops into my head.
But who knows?
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Magical ingredients, D!
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I adore your reply here. What a poet you are!
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I borrowed words from some of the poems I read tonight for this one.
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Your opening line is intriguing. This poem conjured up a very scary image for me. Maybe I have an imaginative brain? But I liked this line, “it’d rather hunt than beg”
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Well, as Lisa said above, it is a wild predator that’s seen only slim pickins, and they can be scary dangerous. It should be okay after this poem, for a while anyway.
Thanks for visiting.
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First off, WELCOME BACK and CONGRATULATIONS on such a fine return. Awesome work. I was glad “Muse” was in the title, to help me get my head right before diving in. A great opening, yes, but I especially love
“uncertain cower unfolding to a pounce
for it’d rather hunt than beg…”
because that’s how mine usually come to me as well.
Awesome work, Sister!
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Yeah, they can be scary but I’d never try to tame it. I just take my chances.
Thank you for the warm welcome back Brother Ron.
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The last line is captivating 🙂
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Thank you. I’m glad if it worked.
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You did a great job on the pain of getting the words out. Feed the muse and she’ll behave herself 🙂
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Thank you for the encouragement. I tread carefully though, as I do not wish to tame her, or have her become complacent.
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You’re right. Tame is not what we should aim for!
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I’ve been feeling a bit parched myself of late. “I’d rather hunt than beg”–and sometimes bits can be saved to include when a recipe shows up that fits. (K)
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Ha, yes. There’s always a little something in the back of the larder, if you’re hungry enough.
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Glad your muse found a feed!
Intriguing indeed
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Thank you.
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Wowww!! ❤️ This is absolutely stunning 😀 I love; “for it’d rather hunt than beg this night it laps at moon-milk senses hunger-hardened.”
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Thank you so much. Yeah this one crept out of the dark and bit down.
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Beautifully powerful, D.
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Hey, Doug! Thank you. Just another palindrome; 44 here, 99 there… This is a fine Pub, dis d’verse.
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Wonderful perspective on inspiration and writing!
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Thanks Rob.
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“this night it laps at moon-milk”
I love that image, and the poem.
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Thank you very much. That line came right through the window with the moonlight reflected off the snow!
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Gorgeous!
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This made me think about my own muse and how it does feel like an outside force at times that stalks us. I liked, “bone sharp wary, lurks at shadowed edge.” Sometimes I do sense it there, right on the edge! Evocative read!
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Thank you! Sometimes it’s better to be stalked than ignored.
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I think the muse is often born from that craving, I doubt that any muse will survive with a sated partner…
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Temporary, a feeding to tide it over… for now…
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What a beautiful collection of 44 words tied together to create a vivid image of lean predator satisfying hunger.
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Thank you Norah. Yeah, that’s my muse.
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Good one!
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Wonderful first line. Your muse is particularly fierce, but maybe that keeps you on your toes. 😀
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It’s a tough relationship to understand, let alone explain.
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Hmm…. I wonder what Marie-Louise would have to say.
I always wonder about the way of the muse… I’ve been boo-hoo’ed for saying the muse guides me.
Like a fox or wolf – And I leave with the question is a writer (or artist) ever fully sated when there is always another blank page (or canvas of whatever material) to fill?
Some mighty fine deep ‘shift’.
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Thanks Jules!
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