Abusive Muse–Act Three and a Half–Interlude. (Just fer fun repost)

I returned to my keyboard and typed:

“Dear Helen, I am so very sorry.”

Announced to Muse:

“Okay. Done.”

She came over, read what I had written.

“That’s it?”

“Yeah. Succinct. Perfection.”

She grasped me by my hand…

“Come sit down with me on the Nasty Couch for a moment.”

“Uh… Okay.”

“Lance, I am your Muse. And I will love you for all time. And Believe me: I have time. Back in that day when William S. was struggling… I hooked him up. Back When Coleridge had that Albatross about his neck, I hooked him up. Back when Sam Clemens had no pot to piss in, I hooked him up. But you! You!  YOU WEAR ME OUT!”

As we were sitting there, me gazing into her eyes, she glaring at mine…

“Boom! Boom! Boom!”

Someone was pounding at my door.

“UPS?” Muse asked.

“No” I said. “Delirium Tremens Man. Right on schedule.”

“Stay put; I’ll handle this,” she said as she thrust her tiny self against the door and screamed, “Fuck Off! This is MY TIME With Lance!”

I could barely hear the faint sound of shuffling footsteps as he skulked away.

Muse sat back down on the couch.

“Now, where were we?”

“Darling, I have no idea, but you seem to be in charge. Please don’t hurt me.”

Chap Two Found here

Abusive Lovely Muse–Chapter Two

 

Another Chapter Found Here–This Series Is All-Over-The-Place. Sorry

“I dreamt a dream tonight” Of Queen Mab, or “Whatever Your Will, Will”

“Oh Good God! Lance is posting yet more ‘driveling-snivelings’ about writers, writing, and his writing travails! He wears me out!”

“Well, you may thank Mister Ohh over at His Place for prompting me to resurrect this long since dead post on the subject. Have a pleasant journey and be sure to give him my best regards while you are there. Ohh! (See what I just did there?) Oh btw, the password is “Mo’ Sent me.” ‘Mo, being shorthand for ‘Moron.’ Gawd! I crack me up! Ha. Ha. Ha.

The Angry Mab

Credit: deviantart.com

“I dreamt a dream tonight.”

“And so did I.”

“Well, what was yours?”

“That dreamer’s often lie.”

“…In bed asleep while they do dream things true!”

“Oh! Then I see Queen Mab hath been with you!”

–R&M: Romeo and Mercutio

***

“Peace, Good Mercutio. Peace. Thou talks of nothing. Thou talkst of nothing.”

“True. True. I talk of dreams, which are the children of an idle brain. Begot of nothing but  vain fantasy, which is as thin of substance as the air and more inconstant than the wind who woes even now the frozen bosom of the north, and being angered puffs away from thence, turning his side to the dew-dropping south.”

Thou Talkst of Nothing

***

After a night of hard blogging and writing of drafts, and becoming somewhat disillusioned and more than daft, I perished toward my bed, reaching out for the Arms of Morpheus.

Within moments I slipped into that Hypnagogic Sleep, that strange place between two worlds, that semi-conscious state of being, yet not being,

“Illumined Pleasure”

Salvador Dali 1928

Sleep, but Not Sleep.

Then I began to dream things that should have been true.

But were not true

Yet so true.

Wonderful words words words!

Words to sate my unnourished prose.

Words swirl’d about in my mind like so many fireflies on a summer’s eve:

“Words, words, words!. Once, I had the gift. I could make love out of words as a potter makes cups of clay. Love that overthrows empires. Love that binds two hearts together, come hellfire & brimstone.”

— “Will Shakespeare in Love”

I had it (them, those) words… goin’ on.

Brilliant words. Beautiful, poignant words! All right there!

Right there In My Mind

Hovering, floating just above the surface

I reached out my finger to tap the “Publish Mouse”

My finger was frozen

It would not move

How hard I did try!

It would not comply!

I lay there in Nether Sleep,

Commanding!

Demanding!

The hand, one digit, just the finger!

Just move the damn finger!

Would not

Could not

Then I realized

“I am with Dante now”

And he mocked me

“Here are the words you seek”

***

But I Did Not want to be with Dante.

I wanted to be with my Lost Muse.

Y’all remember her:

The Abusive One.

“I dreamt a dream tonight” Of Queen Mab, or “Whatever Your Will, Will”

“Oh Good God! Lance is posting yet more ‘driveling-snivelings’ about writers, writing, and his writing travails! He wears me out!”

“Well, you may thank Mister Ohh over at His Place for prompting me to resurrect this long since dead post on the subject. Have a pleasant journey and be sure to give him my best regards while you are there. Ohh! (See what I just did there?) Oh btw, the password is “Mo’ Sent me.” ‘Mo, being shorthand for ‘Moron.’ Gawd! I crack me up! Ha. Ha. Ha.

The Angry Mab

Credit: deviantart.com

“I dreamt a dream tonight.”

“And so did I.”

“Well, what was yours?”

“That dreamer’s often lie.”

“…In bed asleep while they do dream things true!”

“Oh! Then I see Queen Mab hath been with you!”

–R&M: Romeo and Mercutio

***

“Peace, Good Mercutio. Peace. Thou talks of nothing. Thou talkst of nothing.”

“True. True. I talk of dreams, which are the children of an idle brain. Begot of nothing but  vain fantasy, which is as thin of substance as the air and more inconstant than the wind who woes even now the frozen bosom of the north, and being angered puffs away from thence, turning his side to the dew-dropping south.”

Thou Talkst of Nothing

***

After a night of hard blogging and writing of drafts, and becoming somewhat disillusioned and more than daft, I perished toward my bed, reaching out for the Arms of Morpheus.

Within moments I slipped into that Hypnagogic Sleep, that strange place between two worlds, that semi-conscious state of being, yet not being,

“Illumined Pleasure”

Salvador Dali 1928

Sleep, but Not Sleep.

Then I began to dream things that should have been true.

But were not true

Yet so true.

Wonderful words words words!

Words to sate my unnourished prose.

Words swirl’d about in my mind like so many fireflies on a summer’s eve:

“Words, words, words!. Once, I had the gift. I could make love out of words as a potter makes cups of clay. Love that overthrows empires. Love that binds two hearts together, come hellfire & brimstone.”

— “Will Shakespeare in Love”

I had it (them, those) words… goin’ on.

Brilliant words. Beautiful, poignant words! All right there!

Right there In My Mind

Hovering, floating just above the surface

I reached out my finger to tap the “Publish Mouse”

My finger was frozen

It would not move

How hard I did try!

It would not comply!

I lay there in Nether Sleep,

Commanding!

Demanding!

The hand, one digit, just the finger!

Just move the damn finger!

Would not

Could not

Then I realized

“I am with Dante now”

And he mocked me

“Here are the words you seek”

***

But I Did Not want to be with Dante.

I wanted to be with my Lost Muse.

Y’all remember her:

The Abusive One.

Yes, I know: It Ain’t Thursday

But I swerved into this long-forgotten post, I posted while shall we say, I was ‘discombobulated?’

Incredible to me now, how this one survived the sober editing floor, and yet here it remains, sucking up Bandwidth. So now, I share my shameful pain with those who have never experienced this wonder…

And certainly comments are welcome. Especially if they be mocking, for self-deprecation is my forte. (and my compass)

(What the fuck was I thinking???)

Oh, and by the way: Please do not follow the links: For that way lies madness.

*************

“Generally, I do Not Like to Step on My Dick”

(Would love to, but he  has left the building)

However,

I will make an exception (in this case)

I love Blondie (Debbie Harry)

Yep

Do

Now… this post will knock my previous posts off your hit parade.

I know this

And I care not

(‘actuarily’ I do)

But who cares?

Watch the video, and take a trip back to the Eighties

Why not?

Call me:

lancemarcom781@hotmail.com

(I lied: it is GMail)

And… if you figg3r that out… Here’s to Texas!

P.S.

I Heart 🙂 Madonna too:

“Last night I dreamt of some bagels

Go Figure