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A silly sausage's sonnet, Fired and unrequired, many a true doublet and hose said in jest, mildly masochistic muses, Ruff day, Shakyspeare's blisters, somber superfluous sylph, The poor lamb
The recently fired, laid off, forlorn muse
Had been spotted all over the town.
Its demeanour was said to be ochre and blue,
But some reckoned ’twas more a dark brown.
Soon footage appeared of a sad soft-shoe shuffle,
Performed at rush hour, ‘cross the Champs-Élysées.
Shortly after, some howling echoed through the gutters,
And a tear-streaked selfie appeared on Twitter . . .
Outside the Musée d’Orsay.
A fist fight occurred ‘tween the muse and two statues;
‘Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss’ in The Louvre.
Cupid was chinned, and Psyche kicked-off,
The ex-muse fled the scene with a fistful of booze.
No charges were brought – some pity extended;
It’s not easy for muses to take a red card.
Now it ponders the future, and craves the old job back;
For the dim thing doth miss, that damn bearded bard.
Esme's Cloud 
That is one hell of an unemployed muse running loose! There were no charges brought because, a little known fact, muses have diplomatic immunity.
Love this …… too fun.
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I’m pleased it raised a smile Tubular, that’s a bullseye. smiles. You’re spot on re diplomatic immunity. Another little known fact about muses, is that they are half Hattifatteners. Worth bearing in mind should you be lucky enough to find one attached like a whelk to your hide. – nods.
notes on Hattifatteners – The Hattifatteners are tall, thin, ghost-like creatures, resembling long white socks. They have round neckless heads with two round eyes. Below their heads on either side are four or five finger-like projections that resemble hands. They are silent and serious, having neither the ability to talk nor to hear, but in contrast, their sense of feeling is extremely acute, and they can sense even the most minor tremblings of the ground. They communicate seemingly by telepathy, and their eyes change colour with the sky. They also seem to be melancholic characters. However, despite physiologically resembling animals, Hattifatteners grow from seeds. Planting Hattifattener seeds where someone has taken up residence is an effective way to get rid of him or her. They seem to have an interest in lightning storms, and such conditions electrify them making them give out a pale glow, and making them dangerous to touch.
Some think the Hattifatteners are wicked, but this is due to their strangeness.
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I applaud how, in the emotive sense, you’ve ‘gone large’ with your shakes here sonmi; although feel rather lachrymose at the muse’s forfeiture, if indeed the red card was shown? A three-game ban for the inebriated goddess seems a tad harsh, especially as she was acting honourably, if a little rashly; after all, Cupid was clearly ‘titting up’ Psyche n’est ce pas?
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Not all muses are female Hariod. Some are male, some are neither here nor there sexuality-wise, and some are not of human form at all, (though in this case I do not see any animal holding a fistful of booze it would be fair to say). The only one with the answers here is the ruffed bard himself. Thank you for the applause, it’s greatly and most warmly appreciated. smiles
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Ah, well all of Hesiod’s muses were female in his Theogony, and so it is that all of Hariod’s are too, I being something from antiquity myself it must be said; and I rather imagined a somewhat tired and emotional Erato here intervening to ill effect.
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One as aged and as terribly sage as you Hariod, must have had many a muse I imagine over the centuries. grins. And a muse never dies either – a part of them remains with the original ‘owner’ (I wouldn’t advise using that term to an actual muse, if you want to keep all your teeth that is, nor to try returning one in the post, even with a valid receipt), forever. They regenerate I suppose. These days the nine females have all had upgrades and so take the guise of any sexuality or sentient being. I know someone who told me that their dog was their muse, and it was absolutely true.
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Ah, sonmi, yes, on the issue of gender in muses, and species too – there have been two past muses for me, both female, and a current one too. One was a Border Collie, since departed, the other a painter, and she, more or less without influence now. I still feel guided by the former, more or less daily, so your assertion as to what happens upon death holds good for me, as does the matter of cross-specie muses.
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You have been, and are still lucky then Hariod, for many go a lifetime without meeting one at all. This is not to say they don’t produce wonderful works, and have fine experiences all over the show, but to be inspired by someone constantly is more than a small boon to one’s life I’d say. I’m glad your furry muse is still with you in some way, though sorry she has gone as well, and I’ll bet you were the painter’s muse yourself for some time too. x
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Sonmi …always beautiful , and I bow to the goddess in you …love , megxxx
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Oh thank you meg, you say the kindest things about my writing. No bows needed though, we are as goddess-like as each other for sure, (modesty reigned in as ever here), but it is true. – hugs her. xx
sonmi.u.t.C
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You are so adorable !
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Well I don’t know about that laughs. But I appreciate that you find me so meg pours them both a nice cup of tea and serves up a sticky bun too. x
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Ahhh– this explains what I heard recently about the muses considering the formation of a trade union. 🙂
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The paperwork has been submitted I hear. Melpomene has bought a flat cap too. nods
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Now I am going to lower the erudite tone of all these comments by saying I found this piece amusing 😀
Bunny-hugging-Emy
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Oh not at all, for what is a good melody without a variety of tones? It should read as wry at the very least, so I’m glad it made you laugh Emy. Many a tragedy is cloaked in humour methinks.
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You did get the pun on muse, as bad as it is?
I hope there is no tragedy up there on the cloud?
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I’m a bit slow at present. waves in slow motion. Just a tad run down. x And to think I missed a pun! I’ll have a word with myself as soon as I can catch my shadow smiles and offers Emy two large sticky buns – one for her, and a bun for her bunny.
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