To My January Muse...

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I like when you surprise me with a thought quite unexpected

Or tease and tantalize me like a green breeze resurrected

I like when you come tumbling through blue daylight deftly dying

Somewhat like love when it was new and lovely without trying

I like the touch of you; true-blue with just a hint of summer

It rushes through my senses in a turquoise-tinted tremor

I like the way that even gray will blush beneath your flirting

Like violet-vested middle-May or July come a-courting

I like the way you leave me lonely just to make me want you

Raging, caged in my heart-of-hearts; darling, there I would taunt you

But oh, you are immune to kisses, still loyal, I linger

Impatient like a toddler clinging to your toying finger

I like the way you stay just far enough away to vex me

You straddle the north wind that moans in low tones to perplex me

And though I’ve vowed to lock the door; ignore what thought composes

You see me at the window waiting with a dozen roses

© Janet Martin

Always on the Hunt

Where do you find them and how? someone asked me and suddenly I wondered too!

How do I find you and where do you hide

I’ve glimpsed you on skylines and hushed countryside

Yesterday briefly I touched you and heard

Fragments of melody yet void of word

… I searched for, longed for you, but then alas

Lost you somewhere on June’s sun-dappled grass

I felt you closer like love’s ‘almost kiss’

Where daylight fell to dusk’s flaming abyss

But as I reached to trace your whisper, then

You fled to where none can trespass with pen

Why do you stay in that ‘next-to-me’ place?

Sighing in wind-song and teasing embrace

You break my will then restore it anew

Shaping, re-shaping my notions of you

Always in season, vague yet virile taunt

Keening my senses and stirring my want

Somewhere within me and out there you roam

Until I find you, dear elusive poem

© Janet Martin

Writer to Her Muse

How can I forget you?

Ah love, each time I try

You vex me just beyond my reach

A phantom butterfly

How casually you slip

Twixt touch and guarded thought

Compelling me with luring lines

To revel in your jot

...so you and I thus dance

A sensual, soulful trip

As resistance and hunger jive

Twixt thought and finger-tip

...and if I beg you go

I feel like I might die

Yet if you stay I’ll ever chase

You; phantom butter-fly

Then you and I must find

A way to synchronize

You, half-rebelicious, kind

And me, your eager prize

I cannot forget you

Darling finagling rue

To chastise you within a poem

Is all that I can do

© Janet~

Doggerel Dance

 

Free, fluent motion

Smooth serenade-swirl

He, macho matador

She, just a girl

Suavely he lures her

Vows melt in her clutch

She covets his candor

He covets her touch

Sashay, slow and sultry

Of glance meeting glance

Sweet, sizzling circle

Tempestuous dance

Vortex of longing

Unravels and slips

He rushes toward her

She brushes his lips

Dangerous desire

Urgency implores

The cape falls beneath him

Somewhere the crowd roars

Apex of surrender

 Two shadows entwined

This is the tango

Of Muse and the mind

© Janet Martin

Poetry Jam invites us to Poetry of Dance

Image Source

Intangible Touch

I have been kissed

Not of lips

I have been touched

Not of skin

And I have felt those finger-tips

Ravage, caress

A world within

***

The utterance of wordless thought
Traverses eons obscurely
Yet keens the pen, jot upon jot
Touching the page in poetry

***

To quell the trembling of its touch
Would be to still the surging sea
Or quench the intangible rush
Rousing the want of life in me

***

Yes, I have been kissed
Not of lips
And I have been touched
Not of skin
The climax of a moment
Spills in heart-beats
Whisper-thin
 

J~

Beyond Philosophy

When my pen is a shackle

And Muse flaunts her noose

I flee to earth’s foothills

Fancy-free and footloose

When hope is a hunger

And Duty is bleak

I find in God’s garden

The things that I seek

In babble of brook-song

In whisper of wind

In nature’s caresses

Both humble, yet grand

In the rush of the seasons

The hush of the night

God’s rejuvenation

Brings faith to my sight

…and the pen becomes weightless

Muse’s noose is a bluff

As thought sings God’s praises

And that is enough

© Janet Martin

At the Mercy of the Muse...

Enchanting insanity

Double-edged bliss

Of tormenting misery

Disguised in a kiss

…that kiss leaves me wanting

And hungry for more

So I reach for the taunting

Where mysteries implore

As I grasp for its drenching

I resist, then beseech

The lyrical quenching

Just beyond my reach…

I cannot bear it

And oh, yet I must 

Fling into the air its
Glitter of dust

Beguiling whisper

Driving me mad

But if she should leave me

I would be so sad

For Muse is a soul-mate

With venomous kiss

Muse is a lover

Of bittersweet bliss

© Janet Martin

Alexandria, it really is a doubled-edge brutal bliss:)

Of Hunters and Seekers

 

The daylight seeks a moment

The hunter seeks his prey

The poet seeks and hunts for both

Before they slip away

The wise man seeks night’s slumber

The lover hunts for she

The poet cannot sleep tonight

Or yet the hunted be

The pauper hunts for fortune

The dreamer seeks his dream

The poet shares what thought affords

But pen can scarcely glean

© Janet Martin

The Villain and the Hero...Two-for-two Tusdays

Poetics Aside prompt; Here are Paula’s prompts: Write a hero poem. Write a villain poem. 

 Vexing Villain

Some poems need no syllables

To distract or beguile

Darling, I shape you against me

In a faint, tender half-smile…

The poet dreams in perfect want

For that elusive word

Darling, I’ve borne the perfect taunt

In sudden passion stirred

As the air, obscure around us

Seethes with possibility

Darling, is it not ironic

That love’s perfect poetry…

…is not mouthed in verbal creations

Of bland inequity?

For Muse is a vexing villain

Of hope and insanity

But now we have trumped her ineptness

Though the silence may drive us wild

Love’s perfect poem, oh darling

Exists in a faint, half-smile

The Hero...

You do not come crashing in

on a black stead or verbose and vile

But darling, you persuade me

with nothing, but a faint half-smile

...across the room I see you

My hero; come, let's go home

Our eyes meet; the air is full

Of love's most perfect poem

© Janet Martin

Ode to the Muse

The Poetics Aside prompt invites us to use an old poet's poem and write a rebuttal; today I am drawn to Keats. Was it a vision or a waking dream is a line in Ode to the Nightingale

Was it a vision or a waking dream?

Alas, and was it thus my heart you stole

Wrapped as you were; the essence of a stream

When spring has loosed her from winter’s cajole?

And as you played my senses with your lure

And as my pulses surged in begging swoon

Did you intend my lone heart to procure?

Or, were you simply passing like the moon

Far off yet all consuming in your glance

While I, a meek and speechless love-struck girl

Invited you to laugh in reckless dance

As you remained aloof; elusive swirl

Then, well thy word is like a forlorn bell

And if I could I’d cheat my thought of you

But I know now that you know me too well

And to deceive you is the thing I cannot do

The silence tolls your present absence where

The air is filled with expectation’s pause

But still I wait; unwilling to despair

Of your return, and still I wait because

I do not care to breathe without your thought

Or write at last a sorrowful requiem

For thee; who came one night, or did you not?

Tell me;  was it a vision or a waking dream

© Janet Martin  

Poet's Nightmare

Poetics Aside Prompt: Scary!

You will reach for me

But you

Will not find me

You will call for me

But

I will not hear

I am your Muse

And in my mouth

I seal every

Winsome thought

And every

Perfect

Word

Outside the birds are.... um, they're...oh, what is it that birds do !?

© Janet Martin

Beautiful Dance

You come to me gently

Yet with purposed intention

I covet your candor

And fear your perception

But as you embrace me

I do not refuse

Your kiss to my hunger

An invisible noose

You crease every silence

With naught but your stare

I close my eyes darling,

Yet, I know you are there

I wait for your whisper

You tenderly taunt

For you know you are master

Of my infinite want

Sensuous sorrow

Benevolent bliss

Darling, I never

Have danced quite like this

Oh, how you move me

In pure passion stirred

Beautiful dance

Of the Muse and the word

© Janet Martin

Monday Musings on Today

We cannot shift one jot of the past

Tomorrow, today will be iron cast

The only thing that matters,

in all we do or say

Is the keen awareness

of the value of Today

In Tomorrow nothing has ever been done

It offers no guarantee

Today is a precious and priceless stone

As we build history

Yesterday is the memory of moments shaped 

Today

Time is doled equally

To everyone

Moment by moment

And then

It is done

Triumph and regret

Are woven with the thread

Of today

Treasure and taste it

Oh, do not waste it

Today is a beautiful chance

To plant in its keeping

A harvest worth reaping

As we gather consequence

Time does not reimburse

One sigh or one glance

But graciously offers

A second chance

Janet Martin~

May you have a beautiful Today!

Poet's Lament

Oft you evoke in my in-most being

Hollowed indictments I cannot ignore

Passionate pleading; rushing receding

Oceans of wonder and pondering roar

Desire dances in sanguine circles

Duty remands with a stiff, solemn grip

Wanderlust whispers; temptation trickles

I need a pen between my fingertips

A-h-h-h-h…

Smooth satisfaction probes inspiration

Pulses quicken with anticipation

Muse, oh languid and luring impression

Teasing and taunting the fringe of my thought

Do you seek kinship or mournful confession?

I feel you but to touch you, I can not

Are you the shadow that ruffles the willow?

Are you the Shepherd of star-spangled deep?

Or do you burrow beneath my pillow

Murmuring to me as I fall asleep

A-h-h-h-h

You are a rebel tormenter of men

Provoking the poet without a pen

Oft you evoke intangible beauty

Caught in the lilt and the bend of the breeze

Oft, in the middle of modest duty

You kiss the moment with sweet memories

I cannot hate you, therefore I must love you

Feed on the hunger of what you withhold

Darling, I am so empty without you

Tease me; torment me until I am old

A-h-h-h,

Poet, poor poet; are you blessed or cursed?

Caught in the vortex of life’s best or worst?

© Janet Martin

Written for Poetry Jam; love-hate relationship

Monday Musings~

A mirror reflects the image

A sea reflects the sky

But thought’s finished span

Reflects the man

Not visible to naked eye

*** 

Man looks on the outward

But God sees the heart

There is no masquerade

For this innermost part

***

Love; simple yet so complex

And hard to understand

How both The Giving and The Taking

Are gifts from His hand

***

 Vanity and pride are as easy to hide

As a giant zit on the end of a nose

As a man thinks, so is he

As his thought falls, so his footstep goes

***

Judgment gushes from mouths of piety

Compassion bleeds from lips of Love

Pious judgment offers no redemption

But redemption pours from Love’s Source above

***  

I held you as a baby then you grew

I watched you as a child then you flew

I cannot restrain the Hand of Time

But pray you through; for now you climb

© Janet  Martin

In Spite of It All...I Love You

When the shortcomings of Reality

Steal my breath

And foolish fantasy

Is not enough

To make up the difference

…I love you

When the curves of your wanderlust

Do not align

In any shape or form

With mine

And I am baffled by its design

…I love you

When the matters of Fact

Will not be swayed

As they scramble awry

My plans well-laid

Because life’s just that way

...I love you

When every thing we could be

Is nothing more

Than everything we should be

In life’s crazy war

Of misconception and muse

…I love you

…because I refuse to stop

Dancing, reaching, yearning

In this flight of

No returning from

Whence we’ve come

And because it is not good

To go where we are going

Alone…

…I love you

© Janet Martin

Wednesday Morning Musing

If I rely on what I see

Then worry and fear torment me

But if I trust in what I know

Then, by the grace of God I go

***

Emptiness is a heavy weight to bear

Fulfillment is buoyant and weightless as air

***

Fear is a dark, loathsome thing to bear

Faith folds its torment between hands of prayer

***

Be patient

From a seed

Grew the towering

Red-wood tree

Be patient

From our need

Grows faith

Of mustard-seed

***

Oh what a thing of beauty

To witness a heart of trust

Oh, what appalling wretchedness

Pours from a mind of lust

***

I should love nothing more

Than to lie in lazy bliss

On summer’s time-swept shore

Within her bluest kiss

Where all the world is sea and sky

Against a wind-wave lullaby

***

It quivered and glowed in perfect-soft hue

My friend, it was the thought of you

I love the invisible, tender power

That breaks the bud of a lovely mind-flower

Janet~