All the Muses have Left

All the Muses have Left

All the muses have left
me .
They’ve been
gone for a while ,
perhaps even longer .
Don’t know where they go,
when they suddenly travel .
It’s just their style .
to suddenly leave .
Are they
in The south of France
or gone en vacances
to Kuwai, or Hawaii ?
Maybe they’re at
work in some
street city ghetto
or have travelled to China
or even Dubai  ?
All I know is
they’ve left me
as cold  as a fish
without even as much
as a parting goodbye .
They do  that  sometimes.
They know
that I don’t take offense ,
that I wouldn’t mark
a single line
till they’re back
in my corner
In defense
of the word or
of any line
that they drop
on my heart
or slip into soul  .
This is just a note
: Wishing you were

Sitting Home Alone .

Sitting Home Alone .

I should make

efforts to make

this poem known

Instead of sitting

home alone .

Not that it’s

some standard

of established good

or bad ,

It’s just so very sad


It sits here on it’s own


to be received,

reflected on,



to mirror someone else’s


life condition,



Someone else’s throws

of passion or regrets .

This poem needs


and a reference point ,

just like everybody else.

From “The Black and other Base elements ” by PWChaltas