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The Wolf and the Muse Part Two- "The Muse is drunk...? *sigh
Yeah, this is pretty much the most fun I have had writing a poem ever so far. It is the conversion between The Wolf and The Muse about the muse's song. Enjoy.
The Wolf and the Muse Part Two
“The Muse is drunk…? *sigh*”
“What are you saying wise muse?
Reality and dreamland you do confuse
Lazing around drinking red wine and booze
Why should I believe what you say wise muse?”
“No you’re mistaken, my mind is fit.
The addiction is bad I do admit,
But on the rock of God I sit.
Maybe you should open up your mind a bit.”
“Noah, your strange ways I can’t conceive.
They call you insane I do believe.
From them, I saved you yesterday eve.
Why I saved you I can’t conceive?”
“You saved me cuz your heart is kind.
I know you are, I know your mind.
Your strength is gentle, your love is blind.
Your view of judgment is not defined.”
“Again you speak where sanity fell.
You’re a simple fool so far as I tell.
But in your soul I hear a bell.
That rings for heaven; not for hell.”
“So now you hear those halleluiah bells?
Those that call me to His wells?
Sobriety found where His Spirit dwells.
Those whose resounding chorus swells?”
“Yes, yes, those of which I speak.
Who heal the sick, and strengthen the weak.
The father on high, ‘tis he I seek.
The one I felt on Mitre Peak.”
“Wonderful, wonderful! Such Joy!
Greater than when they conquered Troy!
Haven’t felt this since I was a boy!
He sees god. What Joy! What Joy!”
“Such a silly man you are.
As good-natured as any I’ve met so far.
A pity you spend your time at the bar.
A joyous man you are, you are.”
“I am the joy your heart does borrow.
There be not joy, if there be not sorrow.
You are a wolf in skin, blood, and marrow.
You must go hunting tomorrow, tomorrow.”
“Your words stun me, I’m not a wolf.
I am a man, I live by the gulf.*
I suffer with them in the smog and sulf.
I gave them aid; I’m not a wolf!”
“You’re quite resistant, but you must believe me.
You are a wolf. It’s plain for all to see.
You’re Canid born, far from humanity.
Nothing can change the thing that you will be.”
“Get thee going! I can stand thee no longer.
Safe from my rage in the rain you must wander.
Of your foolish sermons I am no fonder.
If you continue, I shall not keep you longer.”
“At these words I can only sigh.
Now you must see the reason why.
Such words the cause, I do not lie.
I’m sorry sir, but I had to try.”
“Argh, so wise, but still a child.
Like a lamb, so tender, so mild.
Like the one I just now defiled.
Now I shant be reconciled.”
“Damon, don’t worry, you are forgiven.
You really are too hard, start livin’.
You need to use all that God has given.
But without joy you can’t be driven.”
“Thank you. My heart is heavy this season.
So I will hear you so long as you use reason.”
“If it is reason you want, it is reason you’ll get.
It will make more sense if God speaks I bet.”
I sat on the bench and relaxed my glare,
Deeply breathed the cold midnight air,
And listened.
*Is an allusion to the Katrina disaster implying deep sorrow.
©2010 Damon A. Grey
The Wolf and the Muse Part Two
“The Muse is drunk…? *sigh*”
“What are you saying wise muse?
Reality and dreamland you do confuse
Lazing around drinking red wine and booze
Why should I believe what you say wise muse?”
“No you’re mistaken, my mind is fit.
The addiction is bad I do admit,
But on the rock of God I sit.
Maybe you should open up your mind a bit.”
“Noah, your strange ways I can’t conceive.
They call you insane I do believe.
From them, I saved you yesterday eve.
Why I saved you I can’t conceive?”
“You saved me cuz your heart is kind.
I know you are, I know your mind.
Your strength is gentle, your love is blind.
Your view of judgment is not defined.”
“Again you speak where sanity fell.
You’re a simple fool so far as I tell.
But in your soul I hear a bell.
That rings for heaven; not for hell.”
“So now you hear those halleluiah bells?
Those that call me to His wells?
Sobriety found where His Spirit dwells.
Those whose resounding chorus swells?”
“Yes, yes, those of which I speak.
Who heal the sick, and strengthen the weak.
The father on high, ‘tis he I seek.
The one I felt on Mitre Peak.”
“Wonderful, wonderful! Such Joy!
Greater than when they conquered Troy!
Haven’t felt this since I was a boy!
He sees god. What Joy! What Joy!”
“Such a silly man you are.
As good-natured as any I’ve met so far.
A pity you spend your time at the bar.
A joyous man you are, you are.”
“I am the joy your heart does borrow.
There be not joy, if there be not sorrow.
You are a wolf in skin, blood, and marrow.
You must go hunting tomorrow, tomorrow.”
“Your words stun me, I’m not a wolf.
I am a man, I live by the gulf.*
I suffer with them in the smog and sulf.
I gave them aid; I’m not a wolf!”
“You’re quite resistant, but you must believe me.
You are a wolf. It’s plain for all to see.
You’re Canid born, far from humanity.
Nothing can change the thing that you will be.”
“Get thee going! I can stand thee no longer.
Safe from my rage in the rain you must wander.
Of your foolish sermons I am no fonder.
If you continue, I shall not keep you longer.”
“At these words I can only sigh.
Now you must see the reason why.
Such words the cause, I do not lie.
I’m sorry sir, but I had to try.”
“Argh, so wise, but still a child.
Like a lamb, so tender, so mild.
Like the one I just now defiled.
Now I shant be reconciled.”
“Damon, don’t worry, you are forgiven.
You really are too hard, start livin’.
You need to use all that God has given.
But without joy you can’t be driven.”
“Thank you. My heart is heavy this season.
So I will hear you so long as you use reason.”
“If it is reason you want, it is reason you’ll get.
It will make more sense if God speaks I bet.”
I sat on the bench and relaxed my glare,
Deeply breathed the cold midnight air,
And listened.
*Is an allusion to the Katrina disaster implying deep sorrow.
©2010 Damon A. Grey
Category Poetry / Fantasy
Species Wolf
Size 120 x 91px
File Size 25 kB
Amazing job. You found a good flow in there and kept going. I wish I could button down and write something that's both this good and this long, but my thoughts usually fizzle out fast. And where is your recognition? Why are there no comments? Does no one appreciate poetry anymore? Philistines, all of them!
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