muse schmooze
“The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.” ~ Sylvia Plath
Just a suggestion: Maybe just for a moment You could smile. Doesn’t matter if it’s On the inside or the out. I am simply knowing that The lack of smiles is Making my insides sad. With this poem, I profess That the rest of this day Will be one big smile Of love for the
Imagine for a moment that it’s blogging day and nothing is coming to the blogger. It’s not that nothing is going on. It’s just the “what to blog about” question. Now, imagine that the blogger is me. No imagination required, actually. It’s sort of like the white space on a whiteboard. It’s perfectly fine. In fact,
Invited by you, I open the doorway to my imagination And find there a vast, undiscovered country Filled with fun balloons, open-hearted tigers, Lovely, kind-hearted gazelles, Grown up children and Playful adults. Time to explore! ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2011, 2017 by muz4now, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Since Thursday, nature has been boldly Requesting my attention. It was Thursday when lightning ripped a hole In the tall pine tree next to the house. The rip went from top to bottom. Bits were strewn everywhere across the yard And up on the roof. A board in the fence was broken. The garage door
dragonflies are a lover’s best friend they do not pursue one another with that bashful fear we often see in humans they go after each other with playful glee and do not stop until they are attached one to the other ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2011 by muz4now, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
I’ve had a voice on Twitter and Facebook for a while now. So, when it came time to “choose” a new business name, it came naturally to use my social media moniker of “muz4now™”. This play on words was something that I came up with as a shorthand for many of the things that I
“it’s official” – muz4now is Stan Stewart’s business name Read More »
The butterfly effect. I step out of my door early in the morning And choose to let my foot drop to the ground Where it will. Today, that footfall happens to be on a small Creature, barely visible if I had taken the time To look there and notice it. I will never know the
It’s not that love disappeared. Not even close. It’s that there has been a fresh Blossoming of that delightful Sensation and desire in me. A kind of open-heart surgery Where I am both the physician And the patient. The object of my re-bloomed love? It is both you And the me that I had drowned
Summer brings a kind of warmth That is not alway kind. It overheats the bodies of the child and the aged. It invites unclothed bodies to worship the Sun, Unprotected; to be regretted later on. I watch our dog seeking the cool, refreshing Drink of water and the pressing of his body Against the tiles