by Milli Gilbert
My muse is a two-faced jerk. Well… he’s multi-faceted, I guess, really. I get the impression he’s hot, but I really don’t know. He runs around all the time with a nylon stocking over his head like a bank robber. Kinda makes me think of Lord Voldemort’s creepy face – kinda featureless, but when you see a picture of what the guy really looks like, holy dang!
But he’s still a jerk. He threw this amazing story idea at me when I wanted to be writing something else. I’m on a deadline – one self-imposed by other events I want it ready for, the other by the publisher.Recently, my muse completely bailed on me. Until late last night, he hadn’t let me write a new word since Wednesday or Thursday last week. (Even this, it’s almost 10 a.m. Central time on Saturday. Because I went to read over the post I’d already written and hated it. So now I’m writing this instead of revising the other.) He’s playing hide and seek. Occasionally he’ll poke his featureless face out at me, like he did late last night (early this morning?) and snicker at me.
“What? You want words? New ones? Writerly words? Oh. Here. HAVE SOME POETRY!”
Silence was the theme last night. Possibly because of Disturbed’s cover of Simon and Garfunkle’s the Sound of Silence playing on repeat?
The silence of your words
Echoes in my soul
The absence of your heart
Steals away my hope.
Your words are not
Are not for me
I know your heart
Was never free.
I popped that out to a friend entirely at random in the middle of a Google chat. She was like, whaaat? There is a typo in there, but fingers go too fast to prevent the pushing of that pesky “enter” button sometimes. But it’s a happy typo – it works.
I told her my muse was being a jerk. I asked him for some new words and that’s what he gave me. Another friend was about to sign off for the night, and then this screeched out from my fingertips.
My dreams escape,
No longer do I
Wish to wake.
And then he was gone. I have deadlines to meet.
What shenanigans has your muse been up to lately?