Posts from the Chained Muse written by Martin Mc Carthy
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Erato & Other Poetry – from the Chained Muse
Sunset I am travelling towards you, and the night, like a brown-skinned girl ablaze with emotion, is stepping boldly out of her clothes. I am travelling towards you, and the light, like a bare-skinned girl in a cool blue ocean, is diving to depths she barely knows. No Matter You sleep here always in my…
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Bringing Sappho to Life: The Innovative Translations of Michael R. Burch
An essay from the Chained Muse – by Martin Mc Carthy Not much is known about the Greek poet Sappho, except that she was born around 630 B.C. on the island of Lesbos in the port city of Mytilene, and was apparently exiled to Sicily around 600 B.C. and may have continued to live there…
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Forever & Other Poems – from the Chained Muse
Forever We are way out here on the edge of town, and a breathless, gushing ocean clings to your tidewash of shards. We are way out here on the edge of darkness, and your smile assuages all the graves on the hill. We are way out here on the edge of tomorrow, and other lives…
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Waves of You & Other Poetry – from the Chained Muse
Waves of You I want to hold you, long and close, where waves break in twilight. I want to hold you, long and close, and feel your skin gleaming with joy. I want to hold you, long and close, in the tiered fragments of a vision. I want to hold you, long and close, whenever…
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The Perfect Voice: A Poetic Tribute to Bob Dylan – from the Chained Muse
The Perfect Voice [I] What can I say about Bob Dylan? That some strange, authentic light passed into him from blind bluesmen on corners, singing their stories of trains and chains and hope; blind bluesmen, miles from any college or guitar academy, with the wind at their backs, or their backs against some wall in…
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Ebb Tide – from the Chained Muse
Here, is where I am, and where I’ve come to see you, while the light remains, and there is time enough to embrace it; here, where the ebb tide leaves its mark on the breathless face of passion, and the day lays bare the trembling world before us; here, where a blue wave burns its…
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MARTIN MC CARTHY POET 