my muse will be an old woman
skin pulled toward the ground
heavy with the weight of experience and the weight of her lovers’ hands
she will limp a little
the ache serving to remind her of the danger
lurking in dares placed when it seems summer is eternal
she will know precisely when is enough
how long to simmer the stew and when to add the carrots
when the coffee has enough sugar and cream
at what point not to ask another another question
she will know when to file for divorce
her eyes will sparkle like the canopy of stars
and she will know all of their stories
written again and again in her blood until their knowledge is eternal
unfailing
she will know her history her mothers her grandmothers
stories singing through her blood with mitochondrial DNA
connecting her with the past and future
in an unbroken chain of memory
when she lays over me while I dream
her lips hovering just above mine as she breathes words into me
woven in chains by the weight of our experience and the sky
she will be almost close enough to taste
though her lips will not touch mine until my eyes will not open again
and when her lips touch mine
she will drink my memory
add its weight to hers
before she moves to lie over another
and though I will not know it
when she finally kisses me
her lips will taste like apples and rain
please visit the poem that inspired this poem here if you haven’t already. (And if you have, please feel free to visit again. ๐ )
chasing shadows again 
It sure is an interesting answer… Your muse is at the extremity of experience as mine is at the extremity of innocence. It doesn’t matter where we are going as long as we are going too far… ๐
[…] May 17th, 2007 by john So cool: my poem about virgins gave birth to a poem. […]
Exactly, extremes make the fun. I loved your poem, I just read it and immediately thought of the absolute opposite take on the idea, and had to write it. Glad you liked it. ๐ It’s my pleasure to have someone to go too far with in a totally not damaging way.
This is lovely.
I was going to say this:
is my favourite stanza… but then I realised that I really couldn’t rate one line above another. I’m so terrible at describing what grabs me about a poem and I’m cursing that inability just now because I want you to KNOW how utterly perfect this poem is. Incredible, every single word!
I am glad you liked that stanza, it was at odds a bit with the others, and while I liked the other stanzas for pretty images, I wanted it to be clear my muse would know who she was, and when to leave. I thought about taking the file for divorce line out repeatedly, except that she would. She really, really would. And so it stayed. ๐ I’m glad you also thought that was important.
The line about her filing for divorce was damn brilliant! I read that and thought, “Yes!”
I wrote a poem addressed to Anne Sexton a little while ago (okay, it was a year or more ago) and said in it that what I admired about her was that she knew when enough was enough… she knew when to stop.
Anyway, now I just need to coax my muse back. Seems, instead of divorcing herself from my favourite source of inspiration (that would be one of those boy-creature-thingies), she divorced herself from me!
[…] poem was posted because a line in Fox’s poem “Muse” reminded me of it. Please don’t take my pitiful writings as any reflection on Fox’s! I […]
Ok i read about 3 or 4 poems inspired by each other..I must say they are all brillant..I guess ill cut and paste this comment on each of them.. Ironic huh?
this is exquisite. I love the attention to detail and then the depth in the stanza with history and memories in the DNA. fantastic write ๐
Rax: Thanks much! ๐ I’m glad you had a chance to stop by. And I’m also glad you appreciated the DNA – I wasn’t entirely sure how mitochondrial DNA would fit into the flow, but needed the sense of physical, enduring connection.
i loved the first stanza. What follows does not disappoint and the witheld embrace in the closure makes the museworthiness in life worth all that is left unwritten..
beautiful poem. and its counterpart too is beautiful in its own way…
I think your muse was my grandmother! I loved your descriptions, and the flow of words, and I’ll definitely be back to read more from you.
Excellent piece. Great response to New Owners.
[…] This poem gets a link of its own simply because I don’t want to lose track of it… and everyone should read it! Muse Poem by Fox […]
Interesting desciption of the muse that you long to guide you. I like the wisdom she has.
[…] poem was posted because a line in Fox’s poem “Muse” reminded me of it. Please don’t take my pitiful writings as any reflection on Fox’s! I […]
[…] Muse Poem by Fox […]
like a lover’s sweet kisses that sometimes leaves you wanting more – what a muse
Very enchanting…
I like your muse!