poltergeist the muse has walked away, bowed his head and stepped down from the still life. I thought there must be nothing to say. I want to yearn for his tobacco skin, but what can come of such bliss but mayham? If I had him once again in striking distance, would I use my teeth or my tongue? 000114
skippy zippy my muse keeps stealing my beer 000114
splinken she has a short, sturdy body and can drink like a pirate. 000907
Tank i cannot exist without this. it means me as much as i mean it. a tempestous relationship, balanced precariously upon the lack of knowledge of our names... 010204
monadh what is yours?
mine is the universe
Skull Oh sweet, oh blessed, oh muse of my life. From what heaven did you come from, and to what hell will you take me. Do not misguide me, do not lead me astray. I follow, for you inspire. You are my hope and my fire. 011001
*nat* does anybody know the name of the singing technique that matt bellamy uses, when he sings out of his usual range, as i find it incredible 020825
~gez~ i can do that. ill cry out 020825
IWishICouldGoWithDavid I say I have taken from you
What you were placed here to give me,
Your purpose, Your presence;
It slid slowly into my life
And then continued to crash on me.
I say I hear you.
I swear this will be enough.
But I know me,
I know I am greedy.
I know that I am fool enough
To sacrifice my truth and my soul
For a moment
In your eyes.
To taste you
Touch you
Pretend you can belong to me.
Why can't I ever be satisfied
With everything I've ever wanted?
jane he said i was his muse
i don't believe him

i would give anything to be his muse
pipedream Herbert Akhtar Khan, Esquire. Gourmet chef as a hobby, loves his garden, wears Panama hats when outside. Lives in lush Latin American city, probably Panama. Has three pedigree cats, is short, stout-ish and entirely a snob. Aristocratic descendant of Indian nawab, perfect English, Urdu and whatever they speak in Panama. Visits are intermittent and unpredictable; can quote Ghalib, Shakespeare and Neruda (in Spanish) whenever required. 030415
lo self destructive relationships. ah the inspiration! 030606
jezabel the taste on my tongue
and the wind in my ear
and the heat of my blood.
ferret what's this about a moose? 030824
een stomme kind a good band 030824
blown cherry In a way I wish I found them earlier,
but if I had, it may have been too much for me to bear.
falling_alone see: xyz 031226
blown cherry The lights danced like some baroque celebration, bowing and curtseying before the audience, and from the centre of the spectacle emerged our Muse.

The music tinkled and roared, met by the build up of the crowd, growing like a newborn, about to explode.

He turns from the piano, now finished with spinning the spell, but upon completion he slowly realises what he has done. He picks up the guitar, but before he kills the crowd, he raises his arms in a salute to things greater than flesh, and raises the crowd through the roof.

Now it's his moment, he turns his back and waits for the metamorphosis. One bar, two bars, three bars.........
then he strikes
the first string
and the notes scream through the room. He turns back to his helpless followers, His transition now complete.

Our Muse is transformed to a God,
and those of us who were there to behold it know not only the sweat of devotion, but our ears now know the sound of ectasy, and our hearts know the ecstasy of the heavens' roar.
unhinged yes i'm obviously a little behind the wagon on this one but nonetheless

blown cherry There was a new vibrancy of meaning thismorning, in the golden glow of a new rising sun.
Dawn breaks on a new_world yet again.
eirech is more than a band, it's one of the first connections. a spark, maybe. 070219
jane muscle_museum 090320
what's it to you?
who go