Café Crem

Art, Music and Words around The Coffee Table

The Death of The Muses

Pale Paintings
Empty Poems
Dead Thoughts
I run across a meadow
Black is the meadow
Black is the Earth
Black is the Sky

Black is the sky and yet, up there, high above me
Three clouds of colour piercing the Darkness.
Three clouds of colour with human faces
Staring at me and screaming.
Three hues, shades of life
Falling down from the sky
Softly landing on the black meadow

Black was the meadow
Black is the desert…

Three Muses draped in rainbows
dancing through the desert
and seeking the source

Black is the source

Three Muses entranced, standing around the source
And speaking the prayer of the Desert:

Oh Queen of the Deserts
Queen of my Life
How long will Water still be Water?
How long will Light still be Light?

Black are the Muses

Three black Muses looking up to me
High above their heads in the sky
and screaming:
„You have betrayed your fate!”

Three Black Muses Step into the Water
and drown.

My Muses have committed suicide.
Why, but why?

Child of the Desert, you simply stopped moving!

By Miki

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February 17, 2009 - Posted by | books, Cafe Literati, death, life, literature, Miki´s Poetry, women, writing

9 Comments »

  1. That’s very powerful; are you OK?

    Comment by viv66 | February 17, 2009

  2. Oh yes, Viv, I feel wonderful, thanks. We have traveled today to our other place, 50 kilometers north of Alicante.
    And tonight we will go out and eat some wonderful crepes filled with much great stuff! And I will surely have a glass of Spanish Tinto…

    Comment by Miki | February 17, 2009

  3. Good, the poem had me worried!!!!
    Of course, when a poem is posted, itis impossible to tell when it was written or why!
    Alicante was the variety of tomato my Dad used to grow before the greenhouse was taken over my my brother for breeding tropical butterflies!

    Comment by viv66 | February 17, 2009

  4. Thank you for worrying, Viv… I said it somewhere, I am a quite complicated nature, with many levels of “life love and hate”. Unfortunately with my living in different countries I have lost the language to express myself, but I might start again, at least trying to find an approximation of expression in English.
    Funny story with the Alicante Tomatoes and the Tropical Butterflies!

    Comment by Miki | February 18, 2009

  5. I don’t know if you’ve ever been introduced to Blackadder, the tv series with Rowan Atkinson, but at one point Edmund Blackadder is asked to explain himself(as in tell someone what the hell he has just done) and he says, “I can’t. I’m a complicated person: sometimes I’m nice and sometimes I’m nasty” and then it degenerates into drunken ramblings. But it’s true, we can be incredibly complex as people. Poetry is a great way of expressing those complexities.
    anyway, Muses can snorkel!

    Comment by viv66 | February 18, 2009

  6. Miki, I am excited to see your poetry. I agree, it is very powerful. I could see your paintings in my head while I read it.

    Comment by shelleymhouse | February 18, 2009

  7. All day I’ve been thinking how this poem reminds me of those by Federico Garcia Lorca.

    Comment by shelleymhouse | February 19, 2009

  8. Funny that you are saying that, Shelley. This poem has been written about 25 years ago, in German. Even longer I think. I am just translating in French a book I wrote at that time about a gate at the end of my desert.
    There are many lines in form of poetry in that book and I juts came across that one as I was translating..this poem was in fact a dream, a wonderful vivid one, everything happent in the dream how it is written in the poem: The colour clouds, the muses, the source, all the black elements, the suicide
    Anyway at that time I just started painting and the stuff I painted didn´t look at all like the paintings from me you know. I suppose my actual paintings must have been within me already, in some form…

    As for Garcia Lorca… I didn´t know his poetry as I wrote the book, but I am curious now… I will look for it… have you a special poem in your head, which you are reminded of? I would love to read it!

    Comment by Miki | February 19, 2009

  9. The poems that come to mind by Garcia Lorca are Song of the Rider, Riddle of the Guitar, and The Sleepwalker Ballad.

    Comment by shelleymhouse | February 19, 2009


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