What Becomes of a Muse deferred

end of greenpoint

Draft 2 

What becomes of a muse deferred

What becomes of a muse deferred?
Ignored for things beheld preferred

Does it huddle on a dark corner
And look for another dreamer?

A victim fancying as they go on
Eyes hitting corners like spotted bones

Tracing dreams and plans on the sidewalk
Like a stick in wet cement, or chalk

Unaware of rejected fantasy flights
Lurking outside the dull pools of light

Or does this dream mark you “holy land”
Dig deep trenches in your undermind

Blinding inspiration wielding knives
Sharp enough: cut into dull lives

Forgotten or ignored dreams become
Psychic bombs in the mental green zone

Dreams deferred bring zealous war within
Peace is not found behind Benjamin$
muse-deferred-3246-small.jpg

What becomes of a muse deferred

What becomes of a muse deferred?
Ignored for things I can hold preferred

Does it huddle on a dark corner
And look for another victim?

Someone dreaming as they walk
eyes rolling around the corner like dice

Tracing dreams and plans on the sidewalk
Like a stick in wet cement, or chalk

Unaware of the rejected dreams
Lurking outside the dull pools of light

Blinding inspiration wielding knives
Sharp enough to cut out dull lives

cone-in-tree-3056-small.jpg

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4 responses to “What Becomes of a Muse deferred

  1. Stafford, I love this poem…the hurried rythym itself “defers the muse”. The photo of your inspired scribbles says “capture it now!”
    I like all the photos, especially the first. The last one is alarmingly phallic —what on earth is that?

  2. A traffic cone that somehow got up in a tree. Phallic, yet strangely impotent because of the context. Like “Nature Laughs Last.”

  3. Blinding inspiration wielding knives
    Sharp enough: cut into dull lives

    love it

  4. Much Obliged,
    Thanks undenied.
    Committee Work Circles
    Like mechanical vultures.

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