Thursday, April 22, 2010

The Muse


While the muse cavorts with others, our eyes sometimes meet. She will give me a polite, rather dry smile, and then turn back to her banter with the prettier talent. But I know a flirt when I see one. She knows she can't fool me.

Because I know that only the extraordinary, the exceptional, the sublime fascinate her. The rest are mere diversion. And while her coquettish ways rouse in me a desire for her affections, I rather settle for that bare look, whence these modest works spring.

Welcome to Shipwreck Poems.
 

5 comments:

  1. Congratulations Chris! May your poetry muse enjoy the new space and freedom!

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  2. Thanks. A lot of them are pretty arcane. Some might make sense, if not ... cents.

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  3. where is the photo from?

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  4. It's the Peter Iredale, located in Fort Stevens State Park just south of the mouth of the Columbia river.

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  5. It looked familiar but I didn't want to assume anything, especially since you travel so much.

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