Tags
One outta 3 muses ain't bad, port-hole howl, Quick schmuse tucked in, She's already in me, Symbiotic a-muse-meant for you this fine day, Tender tinder telergy, To make your visions sing - To open endless skies
On the darkest of nights,
Through a circular window,
Two orbs of despair I espy.
Crinkled drifts of rejection
Sprawl like wounds on the floor,
And ’tis my name he doth curse and cry.
With a tired head in hands
He fences sloth’s claws;
Whilst in through the keyhole I slink,
Gently ticking thalamus,
Neocortex embraced;
A succubus robed in black ink.
I shall have thee surrender
by look or by book;
Through your fingers and soul I infuse.
I hold thy wild heart
In the palm of one hand,
Saturation complete . . .
I’m your muse.
Esme's Cloud 
Oh, this is good Esme. The punch line so perfect. I didn’t see it coming. So true sometimes. This touches me.
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Why thank you Mary, I’m really pleased it does; sometimes at the darkest moment the clouds part and the sun shines through. – nods
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This sounds sexual. Pervert!
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Esme has her moments.
Possibly.
Anyway, it takes one to know one!
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Whilst in through the keyhole I slink,
Gently ticking thalamus,
Loved these lines…it’s a sexy poem, but I wouldn’t call it sexual, if that makes any sense. Sexy because of the way you describe the muse, the inspiration working through every pore of the one in need of the inspiration. It’s sexy the way a well performed tango is, or sexy in the way Carlos Santana is when he is doing a guitar solo…Well done Esme!
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I’m glad Swarn, both that you loved it – bows low and throws in a curtsy – and that you wouldn’t call it overtly sexual, because it wasn’t written to be so, more meant to make the reader get the all consuming element of the muse, which is a pure pleasure of course, but also a relationship fraught with hair-pulling frustration when the muse leaves for a while, because one never knows when of if they’ll be back. The curse and blessing of all creators. nods smiling That is not so say the above doesn’t have a thread or four of sensuality woven within – all muses have that side to them.
Big old tarts that they are.
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Yes, I think sensual is probably a better word. 🙂 Sometimes, maybe more often than not sensual is better than sexual. And since you are my muse you adequately described your effect on me. lol
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“And since you are my muse” – Did you fill out the forms? I don’t work weekends, get eighteen biscuit breaks a day plus all the ink I can drink and take no nonsense when in muse mode, (which is quite selective time-wise but generally it’s worth all the effort). Thank you for choosing a Cloudy muse Swarn. I’d say you won’t regret it, but the small print covers such fripperies.
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Fortunately your writing is available 24/7 to sate me when you have your time off on the weekend. I make good shortbread and good chai… So hopefully your breaks will bolster your musing mood! How about we just enter into a one year contract and if it doesn’t work out… I’ll get even more biscuits.
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Ha! Sounds good, I’m in the union mind so need a biscuit tin full of a variety of sweet treats in the biscuit line – *esme collects the tins and has several abodes where the walls are entirely constructed with them.
I like a spot of chai too Swarn so thank you and we’ll play it by ear and nostril for a year. If you find another muse within that time I need paying off with a flying steam ship.
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Their a certain ‘cleverness’ unique to the author. A rare thing as most others seem inspired by things not ‘unique’. 5 golden stars for this one; I rather like it…a lot.
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Five stars! To be deemed unique is a hefty compliment these days, with so much writing spilling forth across the aether, so I thank you heartily and I’m chuffed to bits reading your words Mike.
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True, there really is so much writing about…some good, some less so. This was one I felt compelled to read from the hook of line 1.
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The hook. How I love it.- smiles broadly -Thank you Mike, that’s a day and a half made for me.
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This poem has everything, Esme – powerful imagery, metaphors, personification, alliteration (starting with the title – gives it great tonal effect), movement, mood, allusion (to Atlas?) . . . I just think it’s brilliant. Just brilliant. As are you.
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Carmen that’s one hell of a compliment, regarding both the poem and myself, and I thank you from the heart for your words.
Atlas often pops up on the Cloud, – smiles – yet I had Sisyphus spring to mind here when I visualised the writer, so you’re very close indeed. nods emphatically
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An excellent poem to be sure.
The style exquisite, mystical.
A sexual theme,
(I concur with the comments,
but the tags dismiss doubt.)
Sexual, hmm…down right,
Perverted.
A port-hole howl…
Indeed!
And then,
She’s already in me.
O! You sly wench, you.
Tender, tinder telergy.
(Yes, well, I don’t know what that last word means, but I can suppose.)
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This is an outrage! You’re all infused with the spirit of Benny Hill is what you are!! Hahahahaha. ‘Tender tinder telergy’ = Lighting a fire in the mind!! struts about back and forth waving her arms and throwing sticky buns at Peter.
I say all that, but this – An excellent poem to be sure. makes everything alright again – hahahaha, so thank you Peter, and you can keep every bun you’re wearing too.
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A short visual to accompany the sensuality of your poem.
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Wow. Bodies like soft toffee rolling into mind. Nicely done sir. – nods. Thank you Peter. – smiles
esme watching that again a few times upon the Cloud
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I’ve read this several times, Esme; not due to any difficulty in comprehending, but because I somehow sensed a kind of succinct perfection to it all. I don’t know if that makes sense, but to draw a none-too-helpful analogy, it felt to me as if on those very rare occasions when we hear the perfect 3-minute pop tune – any further elaboration of it by its creator, or any less, would have crashed the given effect, but as it is, it is indeed sensed as perfection. This cuts deeper into the psyche than any pop tune, of course, and you’ve captured a richly evocative mood-tone, an intimate sense of time and place, but also a mysterious sense of beneficence arriving. It must feel wonderful to feel touched by such sibylline a presence – elevating and energising, I would imagine. I know nothing about it from direct experience, though you illuminate the matter with great lucency, undeniably so.
The arrival of the fifth line of the opening stanza – Sprawl like wounds on the floor lends a dramatic, brutally visceral sense of defeat. Then a sense of optimism is hinted at in the fourth line of the second stanza – Gently ticking thalamus – and which is so sublimely subtle, auguring as it does the arrival of the seductress. And there she stands, the goddess from the homeland of Hesiod, unquantifiable but all-pervading, a healing infusion tended with love, saturating and melding the tired head together with her vitalising power. Genuinely, I think you’ve accomplished something quite sublime in this piece, Esme, and my earlier mention of perfection seems entirely justified. Many congratulations, sincerely; this is masterful work.
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“Gently ticking thalamus – which is so sublimely subtle, auguring as it does the arrival of the seductress. And there she stands, the goddess from the homeland of Hesiod, unquantifiable but all-pervading” – Your words have me astounded Hariod, and as ever, your comment is at least as masterful as the piece itself. Thank you so much, it is feedback such as this that keeps a writing heart beating on.
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Yes, like Hariod, I had to read the piece several times. I remain mute, in the shadow of his comment 😉 Aloha.
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Hariod does that to people, it’s a superpower nods.
Thank you for reading and re-reading Bela! I’m chuffed you agree with him and enjoyed the piece. beams and hands over another garland, this one made entirely from Livingston Daisies Aloha
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Embarrassed to say, I did rather go on a bit, I now see. 😳 I’m not giving up the lemon cake, not even for you and Bela, but I’ll revert to exiguousness in future – promise.
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Are you mad? Madder than Mad Jack Mc Mad?! No, no, no, you’re words are a treat Hariod, I was just pulling your tails a little bit there (esme knows that Hariod always wears a tail coat over a pink tutu at the weekends – family tradition apparently), I love your exquisitely executed comments and look forward to them, especially when the subject is mine own writing – laughs
‘exiguousness‘- gorgeous, my word of the day. Thank you H, and please, never shut up. (Unless the Empress demands it, then my hands are tied I’m afraid).
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I thought the two of you were ribbing me. Anyway, I wanted to ask Bela – are you listening, Bela? – if she sees all this sexual malarkey that others keep going on about. Damned if I can detect it myself, only tangentially, at best, with the succubus, but then I’m rather more inspired by The Lemon Drizzle Cake Muse than inky-nooky these days. Three times a day for the former, though I’ve lost count of the
daysmonthsyears since the latter.LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂
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Stunningly riveting Esme 💕
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Thank you Val, so kind of you to say so. Have some cake! – hands over a large slice and bag of party poppers
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Love the cake too Esme. Thank you😍
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Very lovely
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Thank you very much for telling me you thought so. Welcome to the Cloud – smiles
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