Skip to main content

**A Poets Cry to the Muses by Mariah Pompa

Mariah Pompa



An explosion of creation,
firing synapses,

thoughts always come back to this,

Sometimes in a burst of color,
Others with the spark of a wet match,

small inconsistent yet dire for my survival,

I have an IV of ink yet it still runs dry,
a clogged artery or two won't let these thoughts through,

How can I be me,
how can I be free,
how can I release these thoughts,

For some reason I can't and it drags on for days,

It all bubbles down to frustration and rage,
Cause I can't get a damn word on a page!!,

I'm getting desperate now,
I long for that part of me,
Come what may it's at the heart of me,

I beg you, Erato, Euterpe, Calliope!!,
Give me a sign!,

These words keep spinning and spinning,
Cluttering up my mind,

I will have no peace till this mind finds a remedy,
Falling out of rhyme,
Stuttering over every line,

Its lost its tempo,
But I guess that's fine,

I've written this mess and this mess is Mine.


















Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Origin of shadows myth by Mariah Pompa

Mariah Pompa World mythology 4/15/17 Origin of Shadows There was Darkness and Darkness alone, no beginning and no end. It was just one entity, whole and at peace. It wanted to expand, it wanted to create. With a reach beyond all it formed what would be Moons, planets, and asteroid belts. It wanted to go further, to create something more than rock. Reaching further it touched one of its creations and in darkness it formed the rough bark of trees, dappled the coolness of water, and created the first exhale of wind. This new creation would be Earth and Darkness loved it. Hearing the water rushing in the streams, the leaves fluttering in the wind, and the subtle turn as it spun. It could feel all of its creations but it could not see them. So Light was born. A flash so bright it startled Darkness and it lost part of itself. That part fled to Earth, trying to hide from the Light. It divided and divided until it could hide under the trees. By now it was no lon...
Post a Comment
Read more

New teeth by mariah pompa

Mariah Pompa Brit.lit 5/17 /17 New Teeth It was uncomfortable and costly as all things are when living with other people, even people he knew. Samad was stuck between ruling his side of the house and playing the polite guest. It was so confusing but this was their arrangement and his pride would not let him call it anything else. He had been dealt a bad hand. Alsana had warned him but it was hard to think with her constant snapping. He had to uphold the family, keep a roof over their head, and food on the table. He was a man as it was his place to lead them but even in that he had failed. Pressed for money he argued with his cousin only to be told again “I can’t show favoritism Samad you know that” and he wouldn’t go to Alsana’s relatives the yammering chickens the lot of them. If they spent half as much time doing their duty to the family as they did gossiping then the Begum family would be prosperous, they might even have more children! Shaking his head, Samad ...
Post a Comment
Read more

short fable series: Petereleon by Mariah Pompa

Oh little me I seem to have grown, Growling under tables, I am now throwing my self in to fables, Bleeding so many words instead of reading them, Chicken scratch has morphed into Times New Roman, Clean cut documents are beyond the graphite stained pages, My old self isn't quite so grown though, I still growl under my breath and my fingers are still dirty, Imagination still dominates my thoughts from 7:45 to 12:30, They're quicker, All consuming, leaving me frazzled, There's no hope to contain them I just gotta get them all out, I try different styles and rhymes but still find a simple kind are best, So yeah little me I've branched out quite a bit, No longer bound to just the tall grass I've suddenly  grown wings, Not a griffin or eagle I seem to have grown into something else in between, Something ferocious, curious, and playful, Maybe not a sphinx whispering riddles, Dark mane with tanned wings, A creature longing for some kind ...
Post a Comment
Read more