Muse #13

The greatest art never sees the light of day

Cashews

13.0

Eternal Fuse

Your body is a chariot, a consequence of the mind, an unkind heiress enshrined.

Remarkable breed, I kneel as I plead, I’m forced to concede, you’re all that I need.

Sexuality is a shield, a nuisance to me, your mind secretes appeal, to pervert a woman’s ideal.

The mind must express, its value to the excess, it’s a game of chess, to undress with finesse.

Truth be told, your mind is too bold, I can relate, artists love to create. Why?

I validate you, blessed muse, culture of one, eternal fuse.

13.1

Words are foolish

Medicinal chief, stain thine eyes with sensual relief.

Your flesh is fresh, hair like the mind’s root, teeth like pearls-polished, a benign-design to boot.

Raining daggers spill against my will, stabbing the dirt, around your presence, pinning thy skirt.

You float towards me, I don’t know where to begin, I wish pain wasn’t a sin so I could drink this in.

Words are foolish to describe thin air, what I see now has the power to repair.

Medicinal chief, stain thine eyes with sensual relief.

Pity is a thief, spare me your grief, your doubt in God is your belief.

Secretes appeal

The End

Back

What makes you a muse?

Let's talk. I want to document your life through the anonymity of my poetry. People who read your poetry will realize how beautiful you are without knowing what you look like. The body is a consequence of the mind; the mind is a monster. Why? Hell is in the head (biblically). If you remove the body from the equation, the mind is forced to focus on empathy. Why? It feels isolated. Within that is solitude...where there is no prospect of sexuality interfering with your value.

Through your online activity I develop an understanding of your essence. Those who step forward will be assigned a number. That number is the only link from my poetry to your essence.

You are free to use my poetry to share yourself in ways sexuality cannot.