Thoughts from my Muse

My muse came to me in a vision,
Hovering just above the bed in which I lay,
Before I could talk,
With a gesture she silenced me and handed me my pen,
And said
Don't talk, but speak, Ian Ray
But don't touch tip to paper unless you have something to say,
So I began to write,
And I realized,
This is a beautiful world,
But ugly souls hold sway,
And that its my duty, to bring the light that my last name denotes,
Not just through words and quotes, but action,
Only that could bring me satisfaction,
A respite from the flames that bite at my soul,
Threatening to consume me whole,
I must give life to my thoughts before their death takes its toll.
And with this epiphany,
My muse began to infuse me
With a litany of works and names,
Giving me Wordsworth,
Just to show me what a word is worth
Feeding me Keats,
In order for me to see through the frigid worlds facade of snow and the sleet
Imbuing me with the thoughts of Frost
So that from my way,
Even if I stray,
I shall never be lost.
Just like Maya Angelou,
Ms."And I rise",
For you, this prose should be no surprise,
You were made to galvanize
Compose truth to combat lies,
Boys to turn into men
Let them know a woman's real value lay in her eyes,
Not between her thighs
Use your words to commend, not condem
My muse told me,
And as she continued to hold me, she whispered,

Your ilk is that of Henry David Thoreau
Civil Disobedience,
And in your execution, you must be thorough
You must realize you were given real eyes to see real lies,
Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words can move mountains,
Believe nothing less,

And just when I thought for me, She had nothing left, lest I burst
My muse injected into me
These thoughts directly
That Im half the man I used to be and one 1/8 the person I should be
And I wish I could see where I turned wrong
It could have been when I started believing the writings of
Dr. W.E.B. and believed I was one of the "talented tenth"
I placed myself on a narrow shelf and left myself no help,
All my ability and talent, I nearly squandered my inner wealth,
Hubris is not good for my health.
And I realized, its not for sex that the youth really need protection,
We need contraception for our disfigured and artificially inseminated perceptions,
In short, we are mind fucked without a condom or birth control,
Because thats where the seeds of illigitimacy are sewn,
Trained early on to chase girls, cars and money,
So its no wonder young men so often fall victim to their own erection.
For years, our bodies have matured, but our minds have not yet grown,
Still infantile in our thinking,
Waiting for someone to lead us,
Guide us
Feed us,
But giving no credence to the source,
We have traded in our self worth, and shame,
Just for a chance to play the game,
But we don't even bother to learn the rules
We become pawns and tools,
Indoctrinated in schools,
Passed through and passed over,
Not realizing it until its too late,
Then, once we do, like Atlas,
We feel the worlds weight.
All at once,
And instead of thrive,
We struggle just to survive
We don't live,
We are just alive,
And sadly,
Most don't know or understand the difference,
They just sink into their apathy and indifference.
And as my muse departed, She gazed back at me
The look in her eye seemed to say
What have you done lately Mr. Ray?
And I must admit I resent myself every time that question re presents itself,
But her meaning was clear, and every bit of it, I felt.