1. The muse in the process of dying
2. Autumn
3. The Goddess of magic
4. I'm gonna keep on trying
5. To Pegasus
6. The quick and the dead
7. Mourning song
8. An analytical syntheses

The muse in the process of dying

Please exonerate this paralysing slumber

This gross misshapen transfiguration

Of that which was once my sole intention

I am pleading with thee my muse

The long feelers on my head are going wild

I am somewhere in a spaceless place

In an endless sleep

Forlorn

Blameless muse

Forsake me not-not now!

For thou art my only felicity

Shine subliminal impressions are burnt-marked in my brain

Thine very wanting embedded in my core

Whosoever it is, bequeath abundantly therefore

Thine heavenly narrations upon my soul

Weighing my heart and thus braking it

Liberating a sea of poetry

Caressed in clouds of ethereal music

Oddly idealistic romantic

Peculiar thought provoking creature

Inner destructive forces

Boiling blobs of hell havoc

Does truth not exist?

My muse sighed her last breath

Copyright Pascale Pollier

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October was the month, while the leaves red and gloomy yellow……

Slowly weeping trees……..

The neuralgia of this planets’ face

Strewn in colours by its’ mothers’ rhythms

Deuced as nature is

Condemned and doomed

Hell break loose……

Still kissing little baby-earths’ face

Still licking its’ wounds

From the well of a painters heart

An oily drip of blood plunges down

As the autumn starts

Copyright Pascale Pollier

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The Goddess of magic

The goddess of magic has been forsaken

Divinities all been left behind

Divine… I say…

You my desire

I leave you with my drink and muse

And all the Gods have spoken and said

That it was written in the stars

The wind blew

And his whistle spoke

Satan he said

Satan will come and kill you

And I must admit

It frightened me

To think that in a whim of time

One can be wiped out of life

And live into history

In the book of where all the dead have been written down.

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Keep on trying        

I’m going to keep on trying

I’m going to keep on trying

I’m going to keep on trying

I’m going to keep on trying

I’m going to keep on trying

Get myself together

I’m gonna keep on trying

No matter what

I’m going on

I’m going to keep on trying

Does that sound like me?

I’m going to keep on trying

Does this sound like me?

I’m just gonna go on, don’t stop

I’m gonna keep on trying

I’m going to keep on trying

No matter what ---- I never stop

Does this sound like me?

I’m going to keep on trying

I’m going mad

Even if I’m going mad I will keep going on

I’m going to keep on trying

I will never stop, no never

I’m just gonna go on

Like I’ve always done

Does this sound like me?

Shall I go on?

I will

My will

I will

My will

I will

MY will

I’m going to keep on trying

Am I ?---- yes you are

Are you?----- yes I am

Even if I die I’m still gonna go on

I will go on even if I die

Will you?------- yes I will

I will I will

I am I am

Yes I do in good days and in bad

Yes I do----- Yes I do -----Yes I do

Yes I will ------ Oh yes I am-a-gonna keep on a-trying

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glorifying midnight muse sing thy song

ropes around thy neck

chained on wrist and ankle

thou art a muse of great disgust

pitiable blue-winged creature

watery sea-like light-blue eyes

pale lips as if avowed from death

whetted tongue blessed with vowels from heaven

still now

imperfection is not usually used when talking about the inspiring species

but extol, praise to the sky

that's what they usually get

so here

my love my muse my being

adoration great respect

I'm gratified by thy velvet words

they fondle my ears

and caress my heart

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The quick and the dead

Mortal flesh and bone with benign fleeting soul

composed grief-stricken structure

i doth require your disengaged frame, your relinquished mould

before this beautiful perfection mingles moist turf and oak

and throwes of graveyard soil

many brights have wrought

and eyed upon thee

and chalked eternal masterworks from thee

bequeath therefore your strange intriguing tenements of clay

to medic shaman and artist

and behold

as absolute awaits

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Mourning song

I’m the shield-barer and the violator

bare-faced I knife the fools cock-eyed cranium

germinate immaturity

exhale perpetual disconsolateness

I wallow and languish in this elegy

I am a hypocrite

an impudent transgressor

yes I wallow in this elegy

but when I strip off my leaves

denude myself even further

and immersed in mysterious spheres

of truth

and beauty

I’m inconsolable with remorse

and find love forgiving hatred

I am craved by some and avoided by others

no angels wings do I fly

neither black-webbed devils garments

no none of those I try

but when I strip off my superficial

denude myself even further

and immersed in mysterious spheres

of truth

and beauty

I’m inconsolable with remorse

and find love forgiving hatred

now I ask myself can I bare the shield

for this mourning song

so when I strip off my leaves

I can denude myself further

I shall be immersed in mysterious spheres

of truth

and beauty

I shall be inconsolable with remorse

and hope to find love forgiving hatred.

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An analytical syntheses

Well well look at you,

crowned with vainglory gold-leaf and blue-green peacock-feathers printed on sultry silken wraps,

thine eyes filled with cold void,

seated on your high throne, arrogantly viewing whilst devouring self respect,

ever quick thinking, ever desiring, a lascivious longing contemplation,

a diligent searcher, an egocentric child of many wants,

gourmandising a feast of relishing gorgeousness, insatiably lip licking excessive mouthfuls,

hence tormented by heartburning malice,

once revealing lusty pink flesh, ebbing and flowing uncontrollable heaves of sexual exquisite, next an enraged whirl storm tantrum,

hands ridden with open canker sores , elbows and knees oozing puss, murdered blood spluttered upon thy chest,

then an apathic gaze,

a grocely overweight bundle of fat,

an immovable lump of pallid hue.

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