The muse of music

Listen, while you read, as I, while I wrote.

The Ten Me’s That Attend To ME

What I Do

I once wrote a poem

That was,

In light terms,

Not to be seen.

Not because it was that obscene

But because it wasn’t me.

Which made me think(write).

Me?

Is me, me enough to be me?

To be in a movie, a lead

The main character on the big screen

A character study of someone unique.

I don’t know, but I hope so.

Spotlight

My fingers curl and I howl at the moon.

This puts me in the category of at least two,

So I twitch and itch,

Shave off some of me to be more, me, something me would do

and she.

I watch the beautifully shaved women waltz without a hitch.

I hear a clamor, a laughter

An applause.

The dance of my words has a hitch.

A once beautiful waltz,

Now trips and tumbles.

—And I think(write)—

My words scream

The Grandeur of a cathedral

Shakespearean

The Highs and lows of an orchestra

The passion of an opera

And you, you whisper it

Blasphemous.

Afterthought

And I screeeeeeeeeaaaammmm

But it’s heard as a whisper.

I’m read as if I am words,

And a person screams again,

And the people clap,

And I smile

Who am I?

But the applause

Nothing more.

—And I Think(write)—

A Locked Door 

Odd man

looking for the key

Normal man

A wannabe

The painting

And the painter

The writer

And the story

A frown

in the mirror

A smile

in the theater

A scream

In the forest

A whisper

In the darkness

A bow

For the audience.

The Key 

The key,

Swallowed by a spirit

And I a Spectator to the specter.

Now a floating resolution

To my tormenting dissolution.

Is it a demon or fear,

Restraining me from obtaining

What I hold dear.

Why I Do

Words and stories

Unannounced to me they come

Without purpose or meaning

Clicking and tapping

Morse cord of insanity

Fantasies of a boy

Nightmares of a man

The imagination

An ovation

And I consume it with a deep breath

Who am I?

but the applause. 

—And I think(write)—

Me

There are two versions of me

but one is a lie

There is the one you see

and the one I hide

I wish I could say which

oppresses the other

But I’m not sure

I want that discovered

I fear, the me I want to be

Is a fantasy

And not a caged version

Waiting to be free

the inception of deception

An inescapable labyrinth

Traveled my entire life

Just to have a part of me

The one I want to be, die

I grew conscious of this

When only one came out at night

Like real vampires, werewolves, and witches

It’s all a lie

Propaganda used to keep people in line

So I publish this post in my mind

Me living doubles lives

Convincing myself everything is fine

But I know, part of me is Jekyll

And the other, Hyde

But no more

Shall I live with this rhythm and rhyme

It’s time to find out,

Who am I.