Welcome to the new post at The Poetry Palace-"Inspiration of the week". With so many talented poets and amazing poems, every other Sunday we will feature a random poem that has made an impression! I am Blaga and it's a pleasure to be with you!
Today I've chosen to feature a poem by Corina Ravenscraft from Dragon's Dreams. Corina is one of the bloggers I really love visiting. As she says in her "About" section - she is a philosopher with a poet’s soul and you could say that from her posts- a poet worth reading. The romantic girl in love with dragons is the inspiration of this week. I chose "Dead In A Ditch" because I'm sure the Muses have played games with all of you, each of us have wondered at least once if they are still around or completely gone. Enjoy!
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"Dead In A Ditch"
by Corina Ravenscraft
“It’s 4:00 a.m.
I’m either at home
Or somewhere dead in a ditch,”
I said.
And lately, life’s been
A real son of a bitch,
With this dial-tone
Of a glitch
Inside my crazed head.
I’m either at home
Or somewhere dead in a ditch,”
I said.
And lately, life’s been
A real son of a bitch,
With this dial-tone
Of a glitch
Inside my crazed head.
The thoughts bounce around
And dribble out in
This ooze,
Of “Where did it go?
Will it ever come back?”
And dribble out in
This ooze,
Of “Where did it go?
Will it ever come back?”
I am not a Muse;
Where did that writer’s knack
Fly to, or sink through
Those layers that make me
More than just some luke-warm,
Simple Hack?
Fly to, or sink through
Those layers that make me
More than just some luke-warm,
Simple Hack?
Maybe my muse is dead,
Cold, in a ditch,
In my brain,
In my head?
Waiting for what (?)
To rescue it, or
Breathe life again
Into words I’ve written,
Or attempts you’ve read…
Cold, in a ditch,
In my brain,
In my head?
Waiting for what (?)
To rescue it, or
Breathe life again
Into words I’ve written,
Or attempts you’ve read…
Is there a 9-1-1 for a poet?
Can you Dial-A-Muse
And then — Hold the phone!
Even so, it
Wouldn’t be the same
As that smooth, marble form,
Lying cold, in that ravine,
With blue skin and eyes warm.
Can you Dial-A-Muse
And then — Hold the phone!
Even so, it
Wouldn’t be the same
As that smooth, marble form,
Lying cold, in that ravine,
With blue skin and eyes warm.
I’ll resurrect the body!
And proclaim, “IT’S ALIVE!”
But.
I need an electric current
For the flesh to survive…
Which means I need a jump start
For the heart-beat to revive.
“Three…Two..One. CLEAR!”
Or
“Three…Two..One. CONTACT!”
And proclaim, “IT’S ALIVE!”
But.
I need an electric current
For the flesh to survive…
Which means I need a jump start
For the heart-beat to revive.
“Three…Two..One. CLEAR!”
Or
“Three…Two..One. CONTACT!”
It’s almost here, I can feel it,
And the fear won’t reveal it,
But the inner spark is still there,
It’s just a stone-cold fact.
And the fear won’t reveal it,
But the inner spark is still there,
It’s just a stone-cold fact.
It needs to feed –
To fatten on a feast of lived moments.
But more, it needs that warmth,
That my own, loving arms can’t provide;
To open those dazed, glazed eyes
Deep inside…
I wish I could somehow find
The right light switch,
To keep my muse from being defined
As just another statistic…
Off, dead in a ditch.
To fatten on a feast of lived moments.
But more, it needs that warmth,
That my own, loving arms can’t provide;
To open those dazed, glazed eyes
Deep inside…
I wish I could somehow find
The right light switch,
To keep my muse from being defined
As just another statistic…
Off, dead in a ditch.
© ~ C.L.R. ~
If you wish to read more, visit Corina at http://dragonkatet.wordpress.com/
Stay tuned for Thursday Rally Poetry week 53: Oct 6-12,
in linkz will be up on October 5, 2011, 10:00 am.
2 comments:
her blog is inspirational,
Thanks for the highlight, Blaga.
You are very lively! Loved the motion and energy within your poem. Congrats on the highlight.
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