poetry muse (Remove filter)
I an Not his Muse
I’m not his muse, and I can never be.
No time, circumstance or chance will let me.
After all he gives and gets, loves, regrets,
he remains my teacher and I, the taker.
He is anarchist and challenging creator,
who advocates the belief I have no need
to be seen and posed as a...
Sunday 20th November 2016 9:34 pm
The first muse
She was always picturesque in the garden
and the bright pop of colour amidst the grey city
In his words he tried to capture her beauty,
with objective distance, where she was ardent
She coaxed out something within him,
reignited the flames where the chandelier had grown dim
She soothed the heaving seas of his fears
and knew how to brush away his tears
With a firm but intell...
Tuesday 22nd March 2016 10:45 am
Rifle and Violin
© 2011 by Ali Taha Alnobani
Tuesday 5th March 2013 11:41 am
Making the Bed
As she heaved the duvet
Billowing over the bed
Words shimmered through her mind –
Like fish flashing in deep waters
Fleeting
The music of pleasing vowels
Slipping song of bubbled pebbles
Formless
Something – possibly - glorious
Thoughts make our words;
Words make our thoughts.
The silly poet strives struggles
Suffers
For metaphor
...
Friday 18th November 2011 3:54 pm
Recent Comments
Luke on Best foot forward
1 hour ago
Wordseffectbrew on piecemeal
2 hours ago
Wordseffectbrew on Presently Pheasantly
2 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on And If I Never Met You.
3 hours ago
Esme Watts on Unsure
4 hours ago
Rick Varden on Alexa and Siri
5 hours ago
Naomi on BLOOM
5 hours ago
Naomi on BLOOM
5 hours ago
Ray Miller on Best foot forward
5 hours ago
Ray Miller on Topography
6 hours ago