In Greek Mythology, Terpsichore “delight in dancing” was one of the nine Muses and goddess of dance and chorus. She is usually shown dancing and sometimes holding a lyre, accompanying the ballerinas’ choirs with her music

Close your eyes, relax the spaces of your mind
Delight in Dancing I give to you, practiced from the beginning of time
Terpsichore, the Greek Mythology Muse of dance and chores as I hold my lyre
Passion, lust, desire, graceful movements for the mind to inspire
Enticing the man’s **** flames of fire
No rhythm to engage, only your body, the essence of this muse, no cloth or Greek attire

The body enticement found in a wanton dance
The sum of ninety-three, the Thelema spiritual philosophy for a man to understand
Ancient dances to make the skies shed rain
Dancing in glee to escape life’s stinging pain
The muse within me guides your mind to move like the smooth flow of sand
A beautiful crusade to be shared between woman and man
Lucid, rumbustious, daring, as feet moves to the beat
As you hark unto the dance, as my lyre sets the energy of your soul free

Medicine, ceremonial, rituals, and entertainment dances to amuse
Terpsichore, the Greek Mythology Muse of sensual dances, no man could refuse
Under the silken covers time we reclaim
Two bodies seeking the carnal feast of its weakening fame
A private dance made for two lovers, my lyre discreet to be
Instilled passion under the moonlit, giving and receiving, the commencement of you and me

From the taste of my honey dripped lips
The dance of grace, elegance, seduction, the heart it eclipses
Clench me tighter and feel the alluring sway of my hips
The balance of my soft hands roaming over you, your body basking in the abyss of a wet slip
Linking my arms around your neck as we attune to this emotional dance
The lyre, my chorus backdrop, as the enticing moves heightens of this sultry romance

Allow the rhythm once inside as the elixir of love floats from you
Dip me slowly, worshipping my soul, losing your mind in the addictive moves
Body to body, feast of love found in the magnetic inviting grooves
Spinning me around, taking my mind pass the stars
Come into me as you taste Venus, dancing found under the planet Mars

I’m dizzy from the twirling thrill
Pull me closer, sinking deeper and deeper of your own free will
The rapture with the chorus of my tuneful lyre surrounding us, as time stands still
Feel the essence of my erratic heartbeat as it’s matching yours
Blissful finale of dancing bodies, sedated, perspiration seeps from pores
Breathless and content, as allowed me to take your mind for a sequestered tour  
Heart to heart
My lyre, when dancing with a love one, is a masterpiece work of art

I’ve danced in times of old with my lyre, the chorus played in sync on Mt. Olympics, to the Roman towers  
A woman’s greatest asset as she cajoles in a passionate dance, entrenched by the slow dancing power
Love comes in droves while whirling in the soft mist of a rain shower

Bedazzled under the once seductive poetic words of Horace
Terpsichore, the Greek Mythology Muse of dance heard with my lyre, and chorus

An army of seagulls, like Amazons
guardedIng  the gate to the harbor.
stopped him and before letting pass,
asked too many probing rude questions
in an impoverished language
dominated by caws and coos
and many other strange sounds.
No human ear can quite easily catch
"a fantastically foolish lingo",
his human mind sitting on
its high perch judged,
"If ever I have to learn this
how would I manage ?"was the anxiety
that made him judge, it seems.

Life in this twilight world of ours
hides full of surprises,on every turn.
He wouldn't be able to compare
one sunrise or sunset with any other
decide which one was better,
by any standard,
Uniqueness remains the greatest problem sans a solution here,
then, how could one surmise humans are superior to animals?

A cute seagull, a girl for sure, had shown a keen interest in him,
(her eyes were beautiful and she smelled really nice
hence the guess, that was corroborated later)
she tried to sit on his left shoulder as he walked forward
and tried to make friends with him, before any other could attempt!
She was eager to fix up a date with him, that evening itself!

"Do you think I am bit fast, abrupt?" she cooed
"Still a ****** at this age, don't you think
it's high time to worry about it, already?"

No expertise he has  to calculate
a seagull's age, *** appeal and what the plumage suggests,
a stern looking seagull, obviously with some leadership role
stylishly lands in front of him, in a bid to impress,  tries to enquire
about some membership card, that seems to be essential
bit exhausted, a humid day it was, he was amused
why should one be worried about the union interests of
the privileged seagulls in the harbor area, "Am I too one?"

That's when he had a suspicion crept in his  mind
is the harbor gate crossing really means that he too is a seagull?

But yesterday was so wildly human, with it's follies all fallen in place
a rumbustious night he spent with his rowdy girlfriend
who insisted that her left breast loves him more than the other
wanted to test her theory then and there, and started to complain
gravity has started to work wrongly on her endowments
"Act fast": she would urge, fully drunk, she was cawing like a bird.

"Aren't these enough evidence to prove, I am not a seagull. Mr.Judge?"
his quivering words, dissolve in the cacophony of disapproving seaguells.

The wild green tree speaks
to her lovers, all through the day,
flirting innocence she was
to the gentle breeze,
those lovely foliage
swaying side to side.

With the indecent demands
of the rowdy wind,
she was rumbustious
not to be left behind even a bit.
Then, the long persistent buzz,
of honey bees, theirs was
an intense affair,
with the inviting white flowers.

The tree was still, as if in goosebumps,
though impetuous, isn't it a diversion lovable?
I was the lover, hope personified,
the tree, in my dreams I wished,
was waiting with all these
momentary engagements,
for that one great love that thrills her,
from tips to the roots, deep down, unique,
in its intensity, when it happens.

The green leaves, white flowers,
the cacophony of roosting birds,
under the shade was a world,
moving on its own pace,
all the while waiting for the magic love brings.

The tree was a song of love, wind's whisper,
sweet exchanges inspiring to many lovers around,
all through the day and night.
At dark lonely nights, an oily moon appears,
very late, as if it is reluctant,
the tree stands silent,
looking wistfully at a winking star,
as if her true love was finally found,
though light years away.



**I stand lost in thought,
in my garden, where flowers wilt,
looking at the flickering light,
at your window, getting engulfed by mist

As his feet moved even faster, and he twirled and whirled and cantered across the stage, it was as if he existed in an indeterminate space - blinded by the footlights, deafened by the orchestra, absorbed in his own rumbustious choreography. Beyond the pit, in the anonymous darkness, the audience rippled and flared appreciatively in response. So he danced on until, with a final rapturous gesture of his outstretched arms, he plunged to earth as dizzy as a snowflake. And waited.

The silence shifted. The soft rumble of engine noise played softly in the background, while the chain-link fence rattled in the squall which blew fresh off the harbour. He opened his eyes and watched the cars crawling across the overbridge above him; the empty basketball court littered with yesterday’s snack papers lay in shadow. In the middle distance, a familiar figure walked briskly towards him.

‘Matthew! Matthew! You come here this secon’ or I’ll whip your **** right off, already.’
‘Yes, Auntie.’
‘What you doin’ tryna waste good time?’
‘Nothin’, Auntie.’
‘Ain’t that the truth, boy.’

As he stooped to gather up his satchel, Matthew saw out of the corner of his eye the concertmaster lower his instrument, incline his head, and begin to tap his music stand with his bow. From the balconies the first of a thousand rose petals began to fall with the evening rain, the applause thundered while the lightning clapped, and there in the gods stood his mother waving and blowing kisses at him, as he followed his aunt down East Street towards home.

I make a giant stride
on the sun's face and
walk barefooted
on acres of burning
coals to make a slave
of the scourging power
of generations .

I ride on the moon to
catch the pleasure of
the running away
beauty and harvest the
rumbustious golden dawn
of the radiant rainbows.

Then ten witches of Endor
kidnapped me in exchange
for ten pieces of silver
but​ left thousand
and one witches dead
in my white flame!

Wind smells lavender,
Spring day turns  her rumbustious
Love now breaks all rules.

Heaps of mountains in gold and diamonds running rivers in perfect glory into ocean of abundance.

Rampaging beasts in rumbustious death errand,  pushing​ darkening the air of glory and gorging out the eyes of the earth in violent showbiz.

Bowels of the earth gushing out in falls cascading rapidly down in galls of shame and infamy.

Whirlwinds​ in whirlpools, thundering down powers in thunderbolt, routing down powers of darkness in triumphant victory.

It's the dawn of light in rainbows in canopies,  shooting earth to vortex  of power transcendental,  praises in glorious colors, with cherubims and seraphims dancing in colony of glory.

Rumbustious clouds on rampages
Singing songs of hallelujah
Cavorting the aisle of glory in rain
In a new moon filled with grace
With mercy flying the skies in colors
As royal diadems attired in diamonds
In the ecstasy of  rushing rivers
Discharging to the ocean of glory
Welcome to the Grace throne this May
With His royal blessings applenty
In the purple arcade of rainbow glory.

I sing for the Jack of Diamonds
The iridescent, seamless jewel
Flaunting my poetic garland
Seducing with its haul
The Jack is the rumbustious renegade
Who goes wayward, errant, coy
To Jack I dedicate this enchanted serenade
The bardic arsenal I employ
To capture the diamond for my diadem
And flaunt it to the world
We'll waltz together in freedom
Towards the future hurled
The diamond is a dilettante
Dedicated to bliss
A most passionate militant
Touched by the light of luck's kiss

No stuntman/woman showed up,
albeit intervened in timely fashion
to thwart mishaps experienced
courtesy me I bemoan,
and poet lore re: yet of Perkiomen Valley
Pennsylvania, United States of America
never suffered major illness nor broken bone
(specifically life and death health crisis,
nor compound fracture respectively)
cuz guardian angel intervened,
though aim of mine heretofore
forthwith literary endeavor
merely expressing, exhibiting, examining...
a painfully ****** mishap,

where Lady Luck gussied up as crone
perhaps female spirit of  
Matthew Scott Harris
in the guise of wizened older woman
himself affecting doppelganger
as grotesquely personified...
well lemme cease written jibber jabber
without rhyme nor reason
nor sense and sensibility
analogous to being subjected to annoying drone  
and describe and elucidate
how stunted man (me) amazingly graceful,
nevertheless, yours truly accident prone

The following bonafide poem
fleshed out ~ October 2019
I did accidently revisit
painfully suffering with silent true grit.

Aw shucks, I did sustain
moderately serious injury
series of unfortunate events
ludicrous and quite insane,
yours truly did previously explain
while crouching (think

Tony as papier mâché Tiger),
aye fell backward, where sharp
desktop corner didst train
ground zero right side rib cage domain
punched thru L.L. Bean Autumn jacket
zapped, tattooed, lacerated... bloodstain

proof positive bow tocks sing
arrowing, fletching, notching,
piercing, searing targeting ... pain
prestidigitation went awry
courtesy "fake" legerdemain,
yours truly incapacitated plain

vanilla and simple
found me mortally slain,
more tortuous than spelunking thru
eye of needle size tunnel,
no bigger than sand grain,
and/or trumpeted by suzerain

arrogant, boastful, contemptuous...
arid, barren, cerebrally desolate brain,
a definitive liability,
(not just from Ukraine
stormy din yelled brouhaha), profane
but..., I wholeheartedly ascertain,

the former commander in chief
an absolute zero inane
purpose twittering acrimonious, disdain
calamitous, egregious, gangrenous..., arcane
rumbustious, venomous,
zealous... carte blanche

bigoted, misogynistic, racist..., inhumane
blathering, excoriating, insulting...
seeding, planting, muckraking... dogbane
demanding obeisance till
germane henchmen verstehen
unwittingly declaring himself
jejune bloodhound August huss

preening, primping, proofing
orange-blond mane
more attentive to applying
gray matter to strain
Midas coated self
important fiery propane
verbal quid pro quo

explosions inevitably spray'n,
nothing but antisemitism, barbarism,
demagoguery, hatred...
diatribes roiling the masses
til rabid rantings attain
intolerant decibel threshold
usurping totalitarian refrain.