LADY CHAMELEON

Thank you Carrie for your interesting and challenging prompt. I don't know any Irish ladies so I have had to improvise.

It seems that Saturday posting is a good move because we have quite a lot more participating this week.



The Muse #44

"Ireland" by Emily Soto, fashion photographer

Lady Chameleon, donned with a living and interwoven camouflage.
You fail to escape my gaze, and you are discovered.
Don't be shy, I mean no harm and will not trespass too far into your comfort.
Your autumn red and gold and green apparel suits you well,
Framing your beauty around those pale, delicate features and head of jet black raven hair.

Who are you?


I would wish to speak with you, to probe those ideas and thoughts within you.
For you ooze mystery and fascination and the secrets of a strange and bygone age,
Somehow, a step or two outside all known reality and present tradition.
Yet you are a jewel set brightly against any dark and murky day.

Who are you?


I can hear laughter and joy within you, striving to be set free and come alive,
Your Irish humour cannot hide and is bursting to be set free.
Your serious countenance cannot persevere,
For I know I am the catalyst and the instrument for this rescue.

Who are you?

I see a smile, battling for supremacy and worth a thousand days,
And then a laugh, like music to stir the very soul within us.
Then you step forth with outstretched hand and speak with the voice of melody.
"Craic Agus Ceol!" is what you say, and laugh to a symphony of heart throbs.

Who are you?


Again, you say those magic words, "Craic Agus Ceol" and laugh once more in a crescendo of melodic counterpoint,
"It means we had fun and music!" 
 . . . . . and then you took my hand.

Your laughter captivated every living fibre and every hearts desire.
You smiled and said, "That's a Gas" and noticed some confusion on my brow.
"That means, it's funny! . . . share with me."
"Come with me and I will teach you more.

For . . . I like you.

Come Riverdance with me for all eternity".

Eddie Bluelights

26 February 2019

What a beautiful accent the Irish have, especially her. I can hear her magnetic voice within me.

(You see, I can still 'pull them' . . . lol)




The group is looking for new members. If you fancy joining you are most welcome at The Sunday Muse.  To reach Carrie's website at the Sunday Muse please press HERE

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DECISIONS

Once again, Carrie, thank you for your interesting prompt. I was really 'stumped' over this one for a couple of days until a possible  theme came to light, so here goes.

The Sunday Muse #43

Photography by David Nam Lip Lee

Image Source 

I am torn between two opposite and overwhelming forces.
I am pulled apart relentlessly and I don't know which way to walk.

I am lost in a swelling sea of indecision,
Causing this persistent and unending dilemma,
 Which cries out aloud in anquish from the hilltops.
My loyalties are divided in equal measure,
and I am at the crossroads of my fate,
Balanced precariously on a knife edge of two outcomes.


My ancestors and the genes within me plead that I remain,
For I am a Suri kid, a member of that proud Sun Tribe.
Here I am loved and well protected under the iron fist of Suri culture.
Yet these same bands are restrictions, which imprison me, 
Stifle my individuality and curb my sense of adventure.



Should my existence remain within this restricted sphere of predictability?
Where all tomorrows are well sketched and chronicled?
Where challenges and uncertainty and inventiveness are curtailed?  
Or should I strive to break from free from their bondage,
Into a new dawn where each tomorrow is individual and unmapped?  
Where I alone can master my own fate, for good or bad, success or failure?


My descendants plead the other case, as antagonistic equals,
Speaking with such force as an unstoppable waterfall,
Cascading ideas and desires as if shattering into a million fragments.
Each light beam refracts anew into endless colours of opportunity and freedom.
Shall I make a stand for freedom or shall I remain in bondage?



Our life is threatened by our ever changing and invading world, 
Tradition is pushed back by ever expanding modernism,
And just like all those magnificent beasts who dwell beside us,
We are contained within our own incompatible sphere.
How long we can continue our tradition only the sun god knows.



Surely
There is more to life than cattle
and stick fighting
and tribal feuds

yet

There are evils in the outside world
Unwelcomed and full of contamination

oh!

I am too young to dwell upon these matters.
I will put off my decision until another day.




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Eddie Bluelights

20 February 2019

The group is looking for new members. If you fancy joining you are most welcome.

To reach Carrie's website at the Sunday Muse please press HERE

WAR HORSE ~ PEACE HORSE

Thank you Carrie for your prompt.
Very thought provoking!!



The Sunday Muse #41

War Horse and Peace Horse"  by Sue Halstenberg

Immortal opposites tussle and spar for victory,
Waking from their whirlpool of suspended animation,
They are driven by timeless fear and impending apocalypse,
For they both know annihilation is at their door. 

When will we ever learn?

Just like insatiable lust and thirst for power,
They remain deadlocked on their knife edged pivot,
Finely balanced, yet each holding back its rival.
For they dare not permit a single drop of escalation.

When will we ever learn?

They make their stand; eye to eye, face to face.
Neither will yield, or cross forbidden lines.
Their threatened universe is held within their hands.
Blood and death must be neutralised with love.

When will we ever learn?


Peace must be strong and War held in subjection,
Or it will spread like a rampant, devouring cancer.
The ghosts of war line up to testify, in their hordes,
The futility of their demise and wasteful carnage.

When will we ever learn?

Twice War prevailed to work satanic malice.
It's four apocalyptic steers plagued each soul within their grasp,
To maim and slay each victim to their symphony of evil,
Orchestrated and conducted by demonic tyrants.

When will we ever learn?

Their course was run, their murder was complete
All was destroyed and War had had its fill. 
Peace ascended from the murky depths once more
With War bridled by a flimsy, feeble thread.

When will we ever learn?

And now that ulimate deterrent rules supreme
And even War is terrified should he ever be unleashed.
Mankind's abject belligerence may tip the scales once more,
For he will never learn to settle scores without a fight.

When will we ever learn?

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Eddie Bluelights

11 February 2019

The group is looking for new members. If you fancy joining you are most welcome.

To reach Carrie's website at the Sunday Muse please press HERE

IVY and PEARS ~ OR IS IT QUITE AS IT SEEMS?

The Sunday Muse #41

Thank you once again, Carrie, for your prompt, intended to get our cerebral hemispheres working, even on a Sunday.
As a young man I was very loathed to go out with a girl called Ivy. She was so clingy . . . lol

Image Source

Look deeper,

Inwardly and beware. 

All looks calm and innocent

With not a trace of malice,

Or evil, or anything but sweetness.

Or so it seems

The fruit is succulent,

Nutritious, delicious,

Full of good intentions

To every unsuspecting soul.

Or so it seems.

Light prevails over darkness

With shimmering victorious highlights.

Shade is under its firm control,

Obeying its master in false submission.

Or so it seems.

Yet darkness threatens to arise

With deadly poison and a merciless death grip,

Smothering and suffocating

All who touch it, or live close by.

Or so it seems.

Evil bides its time to play its winning hand,

Taking hold on all with such relentlessness.

It's roots run deep with immortality

And shouts dominance to weakness and subjection.

Or so it seems.

Enjoy your mastery, together with your rule of terror

This is for now and you know this cannot last.

You will be removed and killed.

Your victims will prevail to be set free.

 . . . . light and fruit once more will bless us.


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Eddie Bluelights
February 2019



I was a little late posting last week.  Pleased to say I am more punctual this time.



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