Tonight “The Muse Is Dead”
“Long Live The Muse”
I open my Mind, I clear my Head,
I don’t write only to amuse.
Why do the words not come to me?
My pad rests poised upon my right knee.
My pen is writing words in verse
From left to right, this poem gets worse.
I am not conscious of what I write,
Are the spellings wrong, or are they right?
Why must I think in rhyme and scan?
When I am human, ~~ just a man.
I use poetry to exercise my brain,
There, I’m doing it, again and again,
Writing nonsense, rambling words,
Does it make sense, is it absurd?
“The Muse Is Dead” before I said,
These words still ramble round my head.
The fact that I can write them down,
Shows forces superior within my Crown.
© Jonathan Goldman [JGthepoet] - 29 October 2005
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem