Monday, September 12, 2011

Musings on Muses - Erato

Erato, the muse of love poetry.

I think the only real tribute I have is to try my hand at poetry aimed at love, so this is what I have for today. Bare with me as I rarely develop poetry on a regular basis and this is very rough.

Love Says "What?"

Who says love is kind?
It is a force that is life-changing,
to control.

Who says love is tender?
It is weighted and heavy,
with care.

Who says love is easy?
It is everyone's greatest challenge,
with hate.

Who says love is wise?
It is the craziest thing,
than a purple sky.


Dew and the Waters

As a child
my cup was small
and all the dew drops
filled it all.

As I grew
the cup grew too
and more than dew drops
could fill it through.

As I age
more water I crave.
At first I needed Philia,
friends and family gave.

Emotions grew.
The cup had demand
to be filled with Eros.
I had to find a man.

Mind and body connect.
Awakened now to the soul.
Needed now Agape love,
to divine power enroll.


Angela Wallace said...

Beautiful. I really like the second one. =)

Sia said...

Thank you! I truly appreciate the feedback. :) Poetry isn't the easily thing for me to write. I really prefer fiction. I'm so glad someone enjoyed it.

Sia said...

Really wish it were easier to edit already posted comments, too. Easily should have been easiest.

Angela Wallace said...

Poetry is hard to critique. I was in a group once where someone wanted their poem critiqued, but I could only offer my feedback based on what I interpreted, though that was sometimes helpful if I was interpreting it wrong. But then, if I'm interpreting it wrong, my feedback can't be very helpful!

Anyway, it seems better to just appreciate poetry. I haven't written any myself in several years.

Sia said...

In an Advanced Lit class in high school, I remember a teacher going over poetry for two days to drill into us to beware of DHM's (Deep Hidden Meanings). She said the poetry is just literature like a book and doesn't have anything more deep than the words themselves. Its the rhythm that makes it poetry - like listening to music. Half the class listened and the other half didn't. Whenever we had to write an essay on a poem, so many people had to rewrite it because they read something into the poem that wasn't really there.