Post-Muse Poems

I had almost forgotten, until searching my files, that over the decades since illness hit my brain (1987) I made a few attempts to write poems without aid of inspiration. I call them “Post-Muse.”  They date from 1990, 1994, 2001, 2004. I shall include these for the sake of completeness and, perhaps, comparison.

Though I am never free of symptoms, they vary. Sometimes I can concentrate a little better. But not as often as I would like!


Losing my Muse

I lost my Muse in July 1987.  I still hope she might come back one day. It seems unlikely now. Let me explain.

I am in constant pain, aching all over, exhausted. With brain-fog. Over-sensitive to light, sound, smell, chemicals, heat, cold. Like having the flu coming on every day. For almost thirty years.

It’s M.E./CFS they said. No cure. I tried to fight. It fought back harder. Rest they said. That failed, also.

My body became a prison. I lost social life, fitness, hobbies, music, art, creativity. Without energy my world shrank. Mainly down to a sickroom, bed and books. I underwent an ordeal of disappearance. Without the strength to stop it happening.

I grew used to this limited existence until 2014, when I was hit by vertigo. Not spinning: but constant unpredictable sensations of motion. Over two years on a fairground ride I cannot get off.

Following rapid weight loss it was discovered that my pancreas was failing. Very weak and ill: I worried about the fate of creative work, lying unseen in various drawers and files. I had no-one to leave it to. I thought I could try making a blog as a kind of memorial to my lost life.

So the previous posts are my total poetic output before illness hit my brain. Thus the Muse withdrew from me after I wrote of her visit. Though I may not have written well, I wrote from inspiration. That has gone. And I miss it.

I wrote this to explain the lack of more recent work on this blog. I still write a little, but not poems.  Since I began with Poetry, I have put it here first.

I want to thank everyone for the “likes” on my poems. (I did not get any comments, however, hence I am not actually sure of what it was that others liked about them.)

I hope readers will be kind enough to continue to visit my blog as I transition into posting prose: experimental writing, philosophy, ideas and opinions.


Poem 1985

Nocturnal Muse


This Muse journeys by night
preferring gloom
a certain fog
an intangible excitement
which tinges the brain then
providing more fertile ground
for her delirious issue
in their gaudy drapery
attending neuronal galleries
there she can hold convulsive court
while darkness trembles
under her
following as impulse runs astray

to obscure cerebral boltholes
sniffing-out fusty old memory-pits
where associations have lain for years
falling fearless among bubbling synonyms
metaphors with broken claws
are quickly consumed
once nerve-fibres blaze
she gets those lines dancing
a final witching waltz
of vital verbs
before they sink
utterly spent
amid sleep’s torrid brew.