Wednesday, June 11, 2008

An epistle to an unfaithful inspiration

Oh, Muse of Grievance am I foresaken?
Abandoned by scorn, forgotten by hate?
My nerves unworn and my knees unshaken,
Even as this cool dawn warms and grows late.

What have I done to cause you an offense,
O ghost of offenses here and today?
This morning finds me frozen in content
The vapors of my heart and wit seeped away.

The election continues, that is true,
And yet I see no sin in that right now
The idle outraged usually pull through-
There's still Lou Dobbs, though I don't see how.

With no complaint, folly nor cause to scold,
I suppose I must have taken a cold.

CRYPT, n.  An untroubled heart.

20 comments:

Jim said...

Crypt: Crips and Bloods?

Crypt: Encripted message: fpih. upi str yjr nrdy@#

Crypt: O Cripes, am I first on Doug's today?
..

Anonymous said...

Oh, a letter from the underground!

Jamie Dawn said...

My feeble mind can make no connection between the word "crypt" and your poem.
Crypt is a creepy word, and your poem was not creepy at all. I actually enjoyed it.

:-)
Fireflies, fireflies, fireflies.
I said that to keep you from speaking evil all day long.

Doug The Una said...

Jim, I deciphered your code and am blushing.

Sauerkraut, you probably get those a lot.

JD, a little too cryptic?

Ariel the Thief said...

Oh poet of poets, in your mustard robe and crimson slippers you are teaching us that untroubled heart is the most troubled one. Throw your golden pen at the sun!

Tom & Icy said...

The cradle and crypt; the only places the poet has an untroubled heart.

Anonymous said...

CRYPT a room to die for

TLP said...

Surely this poem is encryption and Doug is really his usual vile self! Come back little curmudgeon....

Or, or...Doug's in LOVE! In which case his nerves will be worn and his knees shaken soon enough.

mireille said...

oh dear boy, wherefore thou cryptic poesy? Hast someone done you wrong? btw, thou needst no muse; thou hast it all in thine own heart. *cue Wizard of Oz music* ♥ xoxo

Doug The Una said...

Ariel, you're cracking me up. Yes, let blood rise from the fountain pen and blot the whole Earth!

Icy, you would know.

Actonbell, I feel much better and more aggrieved now. Thank you for your concern.

Quilly, you and OC really have become one.

TLP, women of a certain age prefer me grouchy, I've noticed. Better?

Good grief, Mireille. I mean, xoxoxo but good grief as well.

Anonymous said...

"Quilly, you and OC really have become one."

That's what happens when you place two humans in the same crypt.

This was lovely though I really can't figure it out. I will study it further, and come to my own conclusions.

G said...

Crypt is a spooky word on this muggy Wednesday evening. Your poem was more like the definition, sort of...

Feel better, I think? I believe the only time we have an untroubled heart is in the crypt.

Anonymous said...

Lol. I sometimes feel that way too. And we find it sort of funny how Lou Dobbs was briefly and interestingly outraged about our, heh heh, President, but now is back on his illegal alien hobby horse again.

javajazz said...

sometimes,
our feelings leak in.
its messy, at times,
but cleansing,
in a cryptic kind of way.

crypt.
a beautiful quiet place.

Doug The Una said...

Cooper, an excellent observation.

G, it's the best time for reflection.

Weirsdo, is Dobbsie still trying to make the leprosy argument?

JJ, as Andrew Marvell described it: "The grave's a fine and private place,/But none I think do there embrace."

TLP said...

"Certain age"? Yep, you're back!

Doug The Una said...

I knew you'd appreciate it.

mireille said...

And that Marvell quote is mine. You took it. xoxo

Doug The Una said...

"You are the most vexatious creature, Prudence!" -Anna Cora Mowatt

tsduff said...

I've missed this tale of the crypt. A perfect place for raven haven.