The Poets

November 26, 2014

An Untitled Fragment

Am I, while writing poetry,
Some foreign soul, a diff'rent mind?
When I resign the poet's pen...

Do I another person find?
What squalid speech invades my tongue
When all my lovely Muses part!
What morbid use of words and thought
When I have not the poet's heart ...
But when I scale her sacred heights,
Those summits where I former dwelt,
I feel like I am born again,
And moved by Muses Homer felt.
Of the Poem
This is a segment of a larger poem I was working on a while ago, I found it tucked away and almost forgotten. I still plan on completing the larger work, but for now I thought I'd post this portion- a portion that may very well change as I complete the rest of the poem.
Anyhow, I hope you like it.

1 comment:

Regina said...

Looking forward to reading the completed work but these verses can certainly stand alone - lyrical and insightful, exquisite. Thank you.

As of April 9th, 2010