tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46391939839364481582024-02-08T12:02:22.420-08:00Writings of The MuseThe Muse is Inspiration. How the Muse inspires Man.Dr. MuseWritingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12246154918429622019noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4639193983936448158.post-25597722298425595372011-08-11T20:41:00.000-07:002011-08-11T20:41:19.466-07:00Spontaneous PoetryI suppose we have all had that moment:<br />
"I'm a poet, and I didn't know it".<br />
You know. When you make a rhyme when you weren't really trying? Those moments can be a glorious triumph at times. Especially when it's a clever one. Of course, the afore mentioned is a bit overused and though a cause for celebration when you were 5, a little maturity in wordplay is essential as one grows up. I tend to be victim to "Spontaneous Poetry"; when I just write in poetic form with no end in sight.<br />
<a name='more'></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px;">I see Mike Tyson in the mirror,<br />
Mr. Ali at bay,<br />
Excuse me Cassius Clay,<br />
I wanna go away,<br />
Will you please please uppercut my head?<br />
Oh man, I think I lost it,<br />
Good thing I retain my mind in a separate compartment<br />
Mighty distant from my heart,<br />
Swayed easily by affection,<br />
Good looks too best believe get attention<br />
Though a dog at heart,<br />
I'll stay true to you<br />
Don't believe me babe?<br />
Here's a leash. Woof.<br />
Handcuffs please it's cuffing-season<br />
That light autumn breeze; falling for u ain't easay.<br />
I am The greatest of all time,<br />
Messing with Muhammad again,<br />
Ain't talking about god but he a prophet man.<br />
As long as we moving this direction,<br />
Let me pour my thoughts out<br />
On the Islamic religion and its possible fallout.<br />
See my father is a Muslim,<br />
He takes pride in that,<br />
But what pride can a man have who drops his son outback?<br />
I ain't talking about Australia,<br />
It was a figurative language.<br />
Shout out to all the Islamic padres,<br />
Que tiene una familia,<br />
Que cuida, y ama<br />
Nunca perdir la esperanza.<br />
Much respect to you,<br />
Teach me the True Islamic way<br />
That it's not all about concubines and simply getting laid<br />
In fact I only want one woman,<br />
But she ain't feeling me yet<br />
No worries, not sweating<br />
It's only been three years to date<br />
Yeah, I know<br />
It's a little while<br />
But all this time I'm spending only means she's worthwhile<br />
Trust and believe that she truly is worthwhile<br />
Though, I can't help but feel lately<br />
My confidence is fading<br />
Ever since 3 years ago; slowly, deteriorating.<br />
I still love her,<br />
Yes, more intensely so,<br />
I still want her,<br />
No, She loathes me more<br />
Autumn breeze, but too late now<br />
Gravity had a hold of me<br />
Been falling ever since,<br />
On terminal velocity<br />
Nah, physics is not for this<br />
Love, after all, is a dismal science<br />
So I'm gonna wish upon a star<br />
Stretching my hand; please Hold my hand<br />
Begging and pleading, like MJ say.<br />
I request of you,<br />
Don't make me regret,<br />
Or if you must break my heart,<br />
Best if you make me forget.<br />
Man, I needa catch my breath<br />
I just went off on another tangent,<br />
See I'm used to these,<br />
My mind is like fireworks and the fuse is lit.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></div><div>I dubbed the piece, "Fireworks". It's a nice display of "Stream of Consciousness". The magic of words kept pouring in, and well.. this was the result.</div><div><br />
</div><div>And of course, as Missy Elliot would say- "Copywritten so, don't copy me".</div>Dr. MuseWritingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12246154918429622019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4639193983936448158.post-9221058637059164242011-03-24T15:49:00.000-07:002011-03-24T15:49:11.429-07:00Road to AppRecently, I came across a site known as "MockApp". I'm currently attempting to use it to hopefully come up with an App idea for Android, Apple, etc.<br />
<br />
One of the requirements to "legally" use this software is to "tweet" about it. As the site called it- "Tweetware", not "Freeware". I currently have ceased my Facebooking for a moment, and have yet to decide whether or not I want a Twitter. Thus, I shall blog it.<br />
<br />
So... when you get the time, check it out: <a href="http://www.mockapp.com/">http://www.mockapp.com</a> ! Happy Appin'!Dr. MuseWritingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12246154918429622019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4639193983936448158.post-6816291835014682772010-10-11T18:45:00.000-07:002010-10-11T18:47:42.901-07:00Bard of Avon, Playwright, Theatrical Approaches, and the Return of the Muse!<div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Well.. the Muse went on a break for quite some time! I do believe it's time to bring her back! Last time we saw her in a rather epic ending. So... I would like to sidetrack to a different story somewhat related to the Muse but of another instance. Between these couple of months, I have fallen in love with Shakespeare. Thus... I have been even MORE encouraged to write a play. I was already planning on doing that once in my lifetime. So here is a little preview of the play. I am contemplating the title of the play, so I won't spoil that quite yet. This little excerpt (which is subject to being edited at any given time), came to me as I was walking the streets of Weber. So I suggest, to anyone looking for enlightenment, to walk along Weber in hopes to be inspired by the Muse. This will be from the man's point of view as you might later begin to notice:</span></b></span></span></div><div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Unbeknowst to thee,</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Cupid's arrow doth strike my bosom,</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Compelling my heart, yet leaving me asunder, </span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Still I wonder.... Art thou yonder?</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Infatuation? So be it!</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Love upon Impulse? BE IT SO!</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But this feeling, I shan't let it go.</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Indeed 'twas rocky a beginning,</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Rougher a middle,</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Pero quien dice que</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Our inextricable web,</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The product of that which we have wove-n</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Needs't be untied?</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">To those I say: Thou web is but of materialistic fiber</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">To Us I say:</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">'Tis not mere fiber but rather bonds,</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Not the capricious hearts of the ever-fleeting,</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But those of the adamant, unweaving.</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Al que no quiere taza, taza y media...</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">To the hopeless romantic, granteth thee matrimony..</span></span></i></div><div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><u>*OH Right... I figured... what's a play without really romantic and thought provoking Spanish lines? So those will be randomly, yet provokingly placed. Maybe other languages.. Latin? Greek? You get the idea.</u></span></div>Dr. MuseWritingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12246154918429622019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4639193983936448158.post-27904517421859611572010-08-13T17:22:00.000-07:002010-08-13T17:22:01.805-07:00Muse, Magic, Moon, ManAnd the here I am.. second week~ Trying to write a follow up is the most difficult thing in the world! I knew that the second one will determine the direction of the whole project~ SO HERE I AM! Hope it does the previous work justice! "Muse, Magic, Moon, Man".<br />
<br />
"Alone she lays waiting, Surrounded by gloom, Invaded by Shadows, Painting the room, The light from the window, Cuts through the air, And pins the child lying there, Scared of the Moon..." -Michael Jackson, Scared of the Moon.<br />
<br />
The thirsty Man returned to where he encountered the Muse. He found nothing but a barren hill. In his mind, he questioned if all he had witnessed that eventful twilight-lit day was but a smear of magic and fantasy masquerading in his mind. The air was silent as before. Man let out a sigh and turned to leave. Abruptly, the air became colder. The Muse! He was sure it was her. Her faint voice rang in his ear. Clearer, clearer it became. "Find me elsewhere Man. Magic becomes mundane when it's the only magic you know. The universe has much more to offer. Find me... Find.. m...", her voice was no longer just faint; it was gone. "Where, Muse, Where?!", frantically and petrified Man yelled. The spell broke, and Man was free. He reached into his pocket. He had forgotten that he bought a ticket to a magic show. Disappointed with losing his composure around the Muse once more, he headed to the show. The show took place in a small dome surrounded by a forest. Inside, the dome was vacant. Immediately, Man was blind. Silence. A darkness that disturbed the senses. Then the stage was lit by a standalone flame. It flourished. A lustrous orange flame, appealing in sight, floated towards him. It expanded into an uncontrollable flame, a wild flame that desired engulfing Man hovered above him, encircling him. The ring spun, spun, spun. It was as he was Saturn and the fire was his ring. Swiftly, the ring shrunk. Once the ring imploded, Pop! Pop! Pop! Fireworks! Fireworks everywhere! White, twinkling, star-shaped sparkles appeared. The sparkles rained down upon Man. Man reached for a sparkle. It was difficult to grasp the feeling that Man felt. The sparkle was intoxicating. It was warm, fuzzy, all at once. It even tickled, prompting Man to chuckle. This sparkle felt alive. The essence of the sparkle radiated Man. Man closed his hand, but it was too late to seize the sparkle. It leaped and danced as it returned to the center of the crowd along with the other sparkles. As they gathered, crashes upon crashes later, the flame returned, bright orange and recoiled in size. Like the sparkle, it leaped, it danced, it encircled Man before returning to the stage. The flame rested on a masked woman's hand. The woman giggled. Not unlike that of a newborn. It became pitch black once more. The magic ended. Looking at the dome now, it seemed abandoned. Boxes piled up in a corner. Dust collected. The scene was depressing. It was unbelievable that Magic could be found in such a barren area. Man sighed and headed out. There was a crescent moon. And the stars gathered around it, elegantly. The Muse was lying on the moon. Man closed his eyes. Man reached his hand for hers. She lightly rested her hand on his. Stepped down from the moon. They danced on the skies, as the stars followed. Twirled. The scent of her intoxicated him. The stars followed. Her dress flowed like an ocean through the stars. The moon lighted her silky black dress, her dark brown eyes became surreal. The stars became shooting stars as he threw her body, light as a feather, into the air... And she spun... spun... spun...And down she came... her toes touched the star. Man opened his eyes. The Crescent Moon skies away. The Muse eternally away. The air became colder. Man is petrified, pinned in place. The Muse descended down to him. Caressed his cheeks with the back of her hand, the perfect complexion, the perfect feeling. She opens her mouth... "You dance... very well...", giggled and disappeared once more. It was too late to seize the sparkle, the Muse was no different. Man headed home. Muse returned to the moon. The stars gathered around the moon, shaped like a heart. The Muse closed her eyes as a yearning tear fell. The Man walked on, a sorrowful tear fell... Neither one knowing the other's thoughts nor affections...Dr. MuseWritingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12246154918429622019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4639193983936448158.post-5688228562541092922010-08-06T15:24:00.001-07:002010-08-06T15:24:47.759-07:00The Forthcoming of The Muse"You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains; you raise me up, to walk on stormy seas; I am strong, when I am on your shoulders; You raise me up: to more than I can be......."<br />
<br />
He stood upon the pedestal, gazing at the starry skies. His heartbeat resonated through the air. In his eyes, the most hazel of eyes, tears collected. Slowly he knelt down, still gazing upon the skies. It was as if he was succumbing to an unnatural force. Truth be told he had lost all sense known to man. It was clear to notice, he had come face to face with his Muse. Twilight beckoned. The Muse was descending from the starry skies. Something. You could hear something. Faint, but there. The Muse was singing as it descended. Her voice soothed him. He rose to embrace her hand. Her body was clothed in a black silky dress. The Muse so elegantly reached her hand for his, and upon the moment that their hands embraced, their eyes locked. His upon hers, and hers upon his. She could see his truly hazel eyes. He, for the first time, received a glimpse of the glorious glare of her dark brown eyes. Her eyelashes curled, her eyebrows perfection, she blinked. His heart skips a beat, silence envelopes the air. He continues to marvel at the Muse. Her lips, lovely. Her hair seemed to be victim to a breeze, yet the air was still. Admirable black hair, the luscious scent of wine and pixie dust. Her complexion, light brown, a magnificent glow. Her hands seemed so strong, yet so gentle. Her feet barely seemed to touch the ground as she hovered closer and closer to him. Man was mesmerized, trapped in a trance. His eyes glimpsed at the Muse's lips, bright red, as they moved:<br />
"Sp...ea...k", she says bewitching Man. He opens his mouth, words stuck in his esophagus. Man takes a deep breath, silence overwhelms the air once more. He lets it go... Whoosh. He stares at her once more, embraces both her hands, and speaks:<br />
"My Muse... My Inspiration... You are a sight to behold. The only sight I see. My eyes have no where else to wander. Your pulchritude illuminates the skies! Twilight, twilight, twilight I see; all because of thee. I am just a mere man, nothing to offer. I am Man, and you are my Muse... my Inspiration...". She giggles...sweet innocent giggle, not unlike that of a newborn. She becomes transparent. She slowly disappears. Man closes his eyes, his tears drop. He opens his mouth in despair, "My Muse... will you bestow upon me the honor of embracing your beauty once more?"Dr. MuseWritingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12246154918429622019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4639193983936448158.post-34888777153516016352010-08-06T15:24:00.000-07:002010-08-06T15:24:10.767-07:00Introduction<i>I opened up this blog in order to grow as a writer. It's not meant to be extremely personal. Even though that may be the case, this blog is nonetheless metaphorically personal. The idea truly sprouted when I went to Jabbawockeez's site and saw what they named their performance at MGM. "Mus-I-C (Muse*I*See)". Combined with my knowledge of the Muses from Greek Mythology, my constant obsession with Humans and their Emotions, my love of writing, and the need to express myself; Writings of The Muse began. Currently, I have no idea where the Muse will take me, but I do hope to write and keep on writing constantly about the Muse. As it stands, I shall be updating on a weekly basis. (Here I laugh because, no one really knows about my Blog quite yet. It's almost as if I am just telling myself to update weekly. Who knows? This might spread.) Anyways, time to embark on the journey of the Muse. Along with this post, I will be posting the first part of this "journey". I dubbed it: <b style="color: red;">"The Forthcoming of The Muse"</b>. Enjoy!</i><br />
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</i>Dr. MuseWritingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12246154918429622019noreply@blogger.com2