Jim Murray

4 years ago · 2 min. reading time · visibility 0 ·

chat Contact the author

thumb_up Relevant message Comment

The Writer's Muse & Where It Lives

IGET TIRED

I get tired of the plastic pandemonium
I get tired of the fall out scare
And all the other end-of-it-all dogma
I get tired of musicians
With nothing to say but shit.

I get tired of the black-haired goddess
Who mumbles obscenities in her sleep
I get tired tired of the scar-faced
Matinee Idol who thinks he knows what is real

And I get tired of the withered
Apostles of Freedom
Who believe they have a lock on logic

I get tired of the aging alien carpet sweeper
Humming in a high pitched voice
I get tired of the stillborn gypsies
Who play their accordians out of tune

1 get tired of too many people
Filling each other with gasoline lies
And I get tired of the holier than thou
Feminine hygiene pasted
On the dark souls of snot nosed nymphomaniacs

I get tired of violins that play only
Rock and roll dadas
I get tired of all multi-coloured strands
Of pubic hair that have gathered under my bed.

I get tired of being molested by apprentice gigolos
I get tired of 12 minutes of garbage
Jammed in between my favourite commercials

I get tired of the silver-studded hero
Who turns out to be some animated basket case
And I get tired of birth defects
In the bastard ancestors of the dying left wing

I get tired of monochrome eclipses
Of the moon and sterile sunsets
And I get tired of infinity
After I have managed to ravish
Most of the magic numbers

1 get tired of the professor's dwarf
Sucking blood from the wounds of
A mutilated memory
And I get tired the knock-kneed yodeler
With lumbego in his penis

But mostly I get tired of the psychoanalyst
Ponsa TR eR: be T-BAR NILE
From his tiny stage, inside a toilet bowl
Where all he has going for him
Is good acoustics
Writers and artists talk often about their muse. The person or thing that buoys their spirit and allows them to take their work to new levels and all that good stuff.
My wife Heather started off being my muse. She would read my work and tell me how exceptional I was, and it would make me feel like I could conquer the world.
But after a while, she started to realize that I was too prolific for the amount of time she was willing to spend musing over my work. So we had a chat.
She told me she loved me and when she had time she would be happy to type up any of my scribbles, (because I wrote mostly by hand back then), but that there was actually too much of it coming at her for her to have any true perspective.
I could understand that. And so I cut her loose from her muse duties and went off on my own.
SO MUCH TO DO

So much to do...so little time
So many mountains I've yet to climb
So many ups...so many downs
So many people ...so little common ground

So many words pass through my pen
So much starting all over again
In a world where nothing ever seems real
It’s hard to touch what you truly feel

So many children
See how they grow
So much to tell them
Before they know
How to believe in a
World gone wrong
How to sing out
When they feel their own song
How to hold onto love
When all the love seems dead and gone

So many people I've yet to know
So many heartaches yet to lay me low
So much confusion to suffer through

So many broken dreams before one comes true

So much to do in a single life
Too little harmony and too much strife
All we can do is fight the good fight
All we can do is hold onto each other tonight

So many lovers
How they come and go
You think you're close to them
But do you ever know
Just what secrets
They have to hide
How much love
They have been denied
Just what they might
Really be feeling inside

So much to do...so little time
So many mountains I've yet to climb
So much to do...so much to say
I've got the fever and it won't go away

Firm Pluss

I had my ups and downs, but over time I came to realized that the muse did not necessarily have to be a person or thing. It could, in fact, be a feeling inside your own head. It was your own passion and spirit. It was your output based input from the world at large.
It was messy. It was angry. It was elegant. It was beautiful. It was a scream or a whisper. It was the sound of rain on the roof or the hypnotic chaos of an overhead argument. It was cacophony of the city streets. It was the splashing of a wave against the shore. It was the symphony that played in your head when a thought crystallized. It was the murmur of the world as it vibrated in your ear from all directions.
It was just this side of insanity. And you were comfortable there, despite the fact that it would, from time to time, literally suck the life out of you.
But that didn’t matter. All it was, in the greater scheme of things, was the need for a coffee break. And you took those breaks because you knew they were good for you. They charged your batteries and got you back into the game with renewed vigour.
This first poem here (I Get Tired) was one that came at a time when I was very much in need of a coffee break. It was also one the last of the free verse poems I wrote. Because what followed this was a serious transformation that nearly fucked up my life. (That’s a whole other story).
On the other side of this transformation, were the lyric poems. (So Much To Do) So what you see here has kind of a before and after quality to it. And it’s also a bit evolutionary, from my own perspective, because this was my ultimate poetic destination.
I know this because I have written nearly 400 of these lyrics and have had no desire to go back to blank verse.
So if there is a lesson in all of this, it’s that finding your inner muse is the key to keeping yourself motivated to write every day. If you can do that, you can become any kind of writer you like.
cb038de6.png
b66cf13d.png

If your business has reached the point where talking to an experienced  communication professional would be the preferred option to banging your head against the wall or whatever, lets talk.
Download my free ebook Small Business Communication For The Real World here:
 https://onwordsandupwords.wordpress.com/2013/11/24/small-business-communications-for-the-real-world/

All my profile and contact information can be accessed here:
https://www.bebee.com/producer/@jim-murray/this-post-is-my-about-page



All content Copyright 1972, 1973,  2017 Jim Murray


""""
thumb_up Relevant message Comment
Comments

Milos Djukic

4 years ago #11

Congrats to you wife Heather, Jim Murray. A wise choice. Quality is never an accident :)

Phil Friedman

4 years ago #10

#14
But do. we know, Gerald Hecht, who is the pain and who is the neck? Just my Fuddler on my roof speaking. 😆😂

Jim Murray

4 years ago #9

#11
Paul Walters. Probably one of many.

Paul Walters

4 years ago #8

Jim Murray The hat is perhaps the new muse

Phil Friedman

4 years ago #7

#8
Gerald Hecht, I don not have a muse, but I do have a fuddler (on the roof) and am constanly bee-fuddled. :-)

Kevin Pashuk

4 years ago #6

Just this side of insanity... you've pretty much summed up my life Jim. I admire your poetic/lyrical side. I'm more of a story teller and my muse is what I observe around me. As for poems... I will never earn a living off them... Here's my best so far. "My dog is small. My dog is little. On our rug she likes to piddle."

Randall Burns

4 years ago #5

Great post Jim Murray, I didn't really start writing until a couple of years ago and I initially thought it was my work, (Chef), and "Significant Other" that were my Muse but your statement of "And so I cut her loose from her muse duties and went off on my own" that crystallized in my mind that while these aspects were absolute inspirations for me, a writer's muse is really anything which evokes an emotional reaction. Wonderful line of, "just this side of insanity", seems like the closer that we get to there, the more we write...

Jim Murray

4 years ago #4

Phil Friedman. Thanks bud. I was thinking about that poem the night before I did this post. It was at the very bottom of the pile. Of about 100 or so from that period (1972). I was also please to find several more structured pieces which I can turn into lyrics. So it was a good trip down memory lane.

Phil Friedman

4 years ago #3

Jim Murray, I think this is one of your best musings. In my experience, the writer who has a muse never runs out of topics about which to write. Which is why Queen Elizabeth was pretty dull as a writer, since she said in a famous statement that she and her royal doppelganger were not a-mused.

Pascal Derrien

4 years ago #2

I like when your posts get a bit more personal :-)

Gert Scholtz

4 years ago #1

Jim Murray A gem of a post Jim. That muse or creative force that drives and motivates the writer - cannot be better said: "It was messy. It was angry. It was elegant. It was beautiful. It was a scream or a whisper. It was the sound of rain on the roof or the hypnotic chaos of an overhead argument. It was cacophony of the city streets. It was the splashing of a wave against the shore. It was the symphony that played in your head when a thought crystallized. It was the murmur of the world as it vibrated in your ear from all directions."

More articles from Jim Murray

View blog
1 month ago · 2 min. reading time

Nine Essential Communication Insights

After two decades in the advertising agency busine ...

1 month ago · 3 min. reading time

The Great Social Media Hatespeak Debate

Over the past few months we have seen the impact t ...

2 months ago · 2 min. reading time

Is Blogging Dead Or Just Behaving Differently?

A lot of the people who know me on social media as ...