It seems Mantra is in need of an introduction to a few in the crowd.
She has been around a long time. I have been writing poetry for more than thirty years. Even before I knew of muses and inspiration, I had drawn green fairies which had no resemblance to Tinkerbell. Over the course of decades, her appearance has changed very little, although I have aged.
There are a few of you who have been around long enough to had seen the first introductory explanation of Mantra. It came after a few weeks of exposing M3 to the little imp but before she posed for some of her many newer portraits which have come to inhabit M3, like the one here at the top of the post and the one gracing the cover of her first book.
She is definitely a breed apart, even as fairies and muses go, insomuchas she goes walkabout to spread the verse and to sit for drawings. Both of these images and the one which will grace the interior of the new book of poetry, Mantra’s Book of Shadows, are a result of her taking up residence in someone else’s head for long enough to make hands draw her.
So what?
As I have been prepping for the book tour beginning next week, the new poetry book is on the schedule. In concert with some of the interviews which are very concerned with how I pack 48 hours into any given day, how Mantra operates is of interest.
Writers and authors tend to have characters in their heads, either playing out the scenes needing to be written or arguing the story line with the scribe. Mantra is a bit different from that.
Instead of the little firebrand speaking in a language I understand, she makes music and sings. I hear the music all the time. Having the M3 Soundtrack is one of my ways of testing the water to see if she is singing outside my head. (FYI, she is.) Some days, she is content doing covers, but the vast majority of it is music which is novel.
Lyrics
And then there are the days when I understand the words. Those are the days I write poetry. During lean times, it will be a once a week task. During a deluge, I may write four in a day. Yeah, it may not sound like much, but considering the average length of a poem is a bit over 500 words (with epic ones over 2,000), it can all be a bit much. The closest I have ever came to haiku was nine stanzas.
During the writing of MBS, there were days finishing a poem would leave me so exhausted I had no other option but to sleep. Literally, I put down the notebook, immediately lay down and fell directly into REM sleep. Occasionally, it was the only sleep I would get for days on end.
Only one poem from Mantra for a Muse did that to me. Those who have read the book immediately pick out it was Treasure… 900 words which sucked out the marrow.
Tonight
This will be the last Muse for Monday from MBS. As with all poems from the lantern, it comes with an understated title, Youth. Depending on our place on the path, we either sympathize with the speaker or wish we never get to that place. If we are in between, we can see both ends of the spectrum.
Youth
I don’t remember being young.
Others speak of carefree laughter,
But my mind’s awash with something.
Swirling responsibility,
An acute punctuality,
Stark and lonely reality.
I’ve learned enough to want and yearn
For the selfish and wanton whims
Of the youth I can’t remember.
Unbridled sexuality,
A heady sensuality,
Definite non-reality.
Dreams nothing more than fantasy,
Even sitting in broad daylight,
In touch with youthful ecstasy.
No more adult complexity.
Fun unconventionality,
An alternate reality.
Where my body responds to touch,
Sight, sound and taste of touching skin.
The feel of youth rediscovered.
051120120410
What part of youth is missed the most? In your refusal to grow old, what can you see you have forgotten? Does writing ever drain you physically?
#Hashtags: #youth #poetry #gettingoldsucks
enchantedseashells
/ February 18, 2013A little green fairy? Some absinthe, perhaps? Good luck on your book tour prepping!
enchantedseashells recently posted..How to prepare for a cruise: Tips from a professional mariner
Red
/ February 18, 2013Funny! You are the third one this week to mention Absinthe to me. Yum! Glad to see you tonight, Shells. xxx
Carrie Rubin
/ February 18, 2013I admire those of you who write poetry. I think I’m too left brained to tackle it. But I enjoyed reading yours. 🙂
Carrie Rubin recently posted..I’ll Take Four Burgers And A Heart Attack, Please
Red
/ February 21, 2013I am glad you did. My left brain needs to sleep some time. Right brain kicks right in. Glad to see you, Carrie.
Gloria Faye Brown Bates
/ February 18, 2013I just stopped by, wanted to say hello to you, Red! :)))
Red
/ February 21, 2013Glad to see you, Gloria! xxx
Binky
/ February 18, 2013Bouts of creativity can often be physically draining.
I can still see both ends, but the beginning gets more and more blurry all the time.
Binky recently posted..Individual Wrench
Red
/ February 18, 2013I would like to keep them sharply in focus for as long as possible, yet find myself willing to forget a good deal of the youthful end of the spectrum.
Red
/ February 21, 2013I think as long as the future is clearer, it is going to be fine.
John McDevitt
/ February 18, 2013What part of youth do I miss? Innocence, a healthy body, promise — but the past is gone now, memories, memories might be real but probably are not. Recreations of the past and imperfect ones at that.
What have I forgotten as I grow older? I try to remember the dreams of my youth and I can’t. Surely I must have had dreams of what might be but I don’t remember.
Old age brings wisdom (I hope) and the promise of new dreams. You die when your dreams die and not a second before. My dreams are coming faster than I can write them down.
Writing can and has sucked the juice out of me on occasion. Creativity is a vampire that must be satiated and it’s oh so delicious.
John McDevitt recently posted..Jocelyn & Brian: A Candid Portrait
Red
/ February 21, 2013I do miss the healthy body, as I have long believed youth is wasted on the young. The older I get, the faster the dreams hatch. I think it is in large part to the expanded knowledge base from which I can make them into reality. Vampire, indeed. Great to see you, John.
C. Brown
/ February 19, 2013What do I miss about youth? Time. I think. Of course none of us know how much we have. But then I at least had the illusion of living for a very long time. Now, I have the knowledge that time is very short. No matter how long you live.
Red
/ February 21, 2013I suppose I am lucky in that respect. I have always know time to be a finite, limited resource. Treating it as endangered has kept me from wasting much of it. xxx
prenin
/ February 19, 2013I don’t think I miss anything from my childhood – it really WAS that bad – but I regret my growing infirmities, aches and pains! 🙂
If I had the chance to live my life again I would ask that it was with better parents! 🙁
Love and hugs!
Prenin.
Red
/ February 21, 2013Prenin, I find it implausible there was nothing of value in your childhood. I do believe your recitation of the bad has pushed the good so far away you can no longer remember it with the clarity of the bad. While far from uncommon, it is not the ideal situation. This post applied to you in a different way than looking at Hanne. For you, perhaps the most appropriate application would be your childhood, your relationship with your father in particular.
Bo Lumpkin
/ February 19, 2013My mind is still young. The problem is that it often writes checks that my body can’t cash.
Bo Lumpkin recently posted..Make Yourself At Home
Red
/ February 21, 2013Young minds have alligator jaws, indeed. That youth in your mind creates happiness for your soul and entertains those around you. Some would envy you that.
MJ Logan
/ February 19, 2013Treasure sucks out your marrow just reading it.
I refused to grow old,
but days like today,
age wears on me.
My eyes are tired,
body tired,
weary.
The new pup sleeps at my feet.
We’re back from our walk.
She was eager for the outside.
I groaned at the wind and cold.
Time was, I would have reveled in the icy wind.
and today, not.
When did I get old?
MJ Logan recently posted..The Dam
Red
/ February 21, 2013I think we all ask ourselves that at some point, particularly when the mind is not in sync with our physical abilities. Today was a good example for me. I was teaching Little V to do chin ups. It seems I can do far fewer with only one arm than I could before. 😉
Carl D'Agostino
/ February 19, 201333 years as high school teacher kept me young. I can’t believe though how many of my peers forgot or were unable to relate to teens and interact at their level. They got fuddy-duddy old – the worst kind.
Red
/ February 21, 2013I know continuing to interact with those younger is essential for holding part of our youthful spirit alive. I really am going to hate the time when children accuse me of farting dust.