Muse in the Morning

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Muse in the Morning

The muses are ancient.  The inspirations for our stories were said to be born from them.  Muses of song and dance, or poetry and prose, of comedy and tragedy, of the inward and the outward.  In one version they are Calliope, Euterpe and Terpsichore, Erato and Clio, Thalia and Melpomene, Polyhymnia and Urania.

It has also been traditional to name a tenth muse.  Plato declared Sappho to be the tenth muse, the muse of women poets.  Others have been suggested throughout the centuries.  I don’t have a name for one, but I do think there should be a muse for the graphical arts.  And maybe there should be many more.

Please join us inside to celebrate our various muses…

In 1992 I learned to speak my truths.  They were tentative at first, hardly more than notes about the reality of my life.  Later some of them became poems.  Still later, more poems were added to add the view of hindsight.  I’ve tried to arrange them into a cohesive whole.  Maybe it works.  Maybe it has more meaning this way.

Old, trite poem with newer art…what’s not to love?

I was so alone at that time.

A Transition through Poetry VIII

Art Link

Painful Separation


Love is hard to give…
and harder still to take

Life is hard to live…
unless it’s lived for Love’s sake

–Robyn Elaine Serven
–July, 1992

I know you have talent.  What sometimes is forgotten is that being practical is a talent.  I have a paucity for that sort of talent in many situations, though it turns out that I’m a pretty darn good cook.  🙂 

Let your talent bloom.  You can share it here.  Encourage others to let it bloom inside them as well.

Won’t you share your words or art, your sounds or visions, your thoughts scientific or philosophic, the comedy or tragedy of your days, the stories of doing and making?  And be excellent to one another!


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  1. and a ‘blessed samhain’ to everyone. 

    • Twank on October 31, 2007 at 13:34

    Is it me or is that one hell of a sexy piece of artwork?

    Or am I just glad the virgin is back?

    Or is that a gun in my pocket?

    • Twank on October 31, 2007 at 13:34

    Is it me or is that one hell of a sexy piece of artwork?

    Or am I just glad the virgin is back?

    Or is that a gun in my pocket?

  2. It has been a while since I have had anything to share here, but I finished this piece yesterday.

    an excerpt:

    Alive – A Short Story

    The blue glow of the television flickered in the darkness of the room. Dave leaned forward in his chair, draining the remnants of the now warm beer before placing the bottle back on the table. He reached for the remote and turned the set off, leaving the room in near total darkness. Stumbling into the kitchen, he dropped the bottle into the can. It landed with a noisy clink against the other bottles already bled dry.

    After relieving himself, he made his way into his bedroom, where his wife lay, already sleeping, snoring softly in the light of the TV set, where a blond weather lady told of impending rain showers, silenced by the four blue letters on the screen that read “MUTE”.

    read the rest here.

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