The Ideal Muse
I love you so I’ve kept you away
My adoration is pure
unadulterated by the banal
I don’t know the sound of your sighs
the smell of your sweat
or if you smack your lips while eating
For years I’ve watched you dance—
your motion joyful and serpentine
once you stood next to me
I didn’t dare speak
for fear you would reply
And now you’re leaving
our common friends and city
moving too far away
for me to observe
from afar
I’m glad— I’ll leave
you on this pedestal
too high to reach
like some cold constellation
or the porcelain moon—
the slightest touch of your hand
would crush me
About Bartholomew Barker
Bartholomew Barker is one of the organizers of Living Poetry, a collection of poets and poetry lovers in the Triangle region of North Carolina. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he makes money as a computer programmer to fund his poetry habit.
I love how the last 2 stanzas refelct the power of the muse and the fragility of your resistance.
“I’m glad— I’ll leave
you on this pedestal
too high to reach
like some cold constellation
or the porcelain moon—
the slightest touch of your hand
would crush me”
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Many thanks! I’m rather proud of those lines too. It’s an old poem that I’ve been shopping around for years but no one wants to publish it. Sometimes if you want something done, you just have to do it yourself!
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I am glad you let it see the light…👍😊
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This is lovely!
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Thank you very much!
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You are so welcome!
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This is a dance with the muse at a safe distance. Otherwise the porcelain might crack. Lovely work and I’m surprised it’s not accepted.
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Thanks! I liked the image of being so fragile that even porcelain could crush me. And, of course, I had to include the word “crush” somewhere in the poem.
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