An invocation begins the epic poem and serves as a prologue to the events to come. A prayer or address is made to one of the nine muses of Greco-Roman mythology. The poet asks for the inspiration, skill, knowledge, or the right emotion to finish a poem worthy of his subject matter.
Homer began his epic poems with an Invocation to the Muse. As you see in this invocation from The Odyssey, he asks for inspiration and a blessing for the retelling of the epic:
Speak, Memory –
Of the cunning hero
The wanderer, blown off course time and again
After he plundered Troy’s sacred heights.
Speak
Of all the cities he saw, the minds he grasped,
The suffering deep in his heart at sea
As he struggled to survive and bring his men home
But could not save them, hard as he tried –
The fools – destroyed by their own recklessness
When they ate the oxen of Hyperion the Sun,
And that god snuffed out their day of return
Of these things,
Speak, Immortal One,
And tell the tale once more in our time.
—Stanley Lombardo Translation (2000)
But what is a muse?
In Greek mythology, the nine muses are goddesses of various arts such as music, dance, and poetry. Their own giftedness in the arts were unparalleled and helped both gods and mankind to forget their troubles. They also inspired musicians and writers to strive to reach greater creative and intellectual heights. Greek writer Hesiod claimed in his work Theogony, to have spoken with the muses who blessed him with divine voice. A once simple shepherd became one of the great ancient poets at the pleasure of the gods.
Simple enough, right?
Try It
For those of us who need a serious boost to get up and at ’em each morning, an invocation to the muse might just be the ticket. Pick your muse. Maybe it’s the classic Greek muse Calliope, or something a little more modern and standard like coffee. Write a brief poem based on Homer’s invocation above, but centered around the adventures of your day and the attributes of your muse.
Call in the muse!
Featured Poem
Thanks to everyone who participated in last week’s poetry prompt. Here’s a poem from Glynn we enjoyed:
We started from a quiet place
a place of dusty streets and market stalls
noise on market days, noise of animals
and children playing
the world beckoned, its soul yearning
no armies did we lead
no armies did we need
no horses did we ride
an army of two, with sandals
an army of two, without swords
the wind went before us smoothing
our way to the towns and languages
to fields and sentinel farm houses
cities, and temples
cities, and rulers
cities, and governors
cities, and nobles and slaves and merchants
cities, and noise
we conquered with words and spirit
even our deaths conquered provinces
and kingdoms, hearts
from two on a road we found ourselves
leading hundreds and more, thousands
and more until the empire itself
fit within our hands, the greatest empire
before or since
we destroyed it, some say
we saved it, some say
we saved its soul, we say,
its souls, we say
Photo by PS Lee. Creative Commons, via Flickr.
Browse more Epic Poetry
Browse more writing prompts
Browse poetry teaching resources
___________________________
How to Write a Poem uses images like the buzz, the switch, the wave—from the Billy Collins poem “Introduction to Poetry”—to guide writers into new ways of writing poems. Excellent teaching tool. Anthology and prompts included.
“How to Write a Poem is a classroom must-have.”
—Callie Feyen, English Teacher, Maryland
- Form It: Little Lamb Poetry Prompt - March 26, 2018
- Poetry Prompt: Misunderstood Lion - March 19, 2018
- Animate: Lions & Lambs Poetry Prompt - March 12, 2018
Suyash_J says
http://reclusemuse.blogspot.com/2014/11/borrowed-scent.html
Heather Eure says
Thank you for sharing your poem with us! The rumination: “…I would grow my roses,/ In that wonderful rain of that golden year.” was striking.
Sandra Heska King says
Slipping in here with a slice of raisin toast and a cup of tea, Suyash. It’s nice to “meet” you. 🙂
Monica Sharman says
Speak, gourd drum, ipu heke,
From your carved-out hollows.
Pound
A story on ground and hands
Of rains and trade winds finding green hills
And blowholes under stark black rocks.
Chant
A song whose lyrics sing of both native pua
and transplanted flower. What is her name who wore
fragrant petals behind her right ear, and what is his name
who moved it behind her left?
Speak, Beating Heart,
and tell your tales through my hands, hips, knees,
the balls of my bare feet.
Heather Eure says
Wonderful, Monica! Way to invoke. “…tell your tales through my hands, hips, knees…”
RickMaxson says
Invocation of the Moon
In this new room,
the clutter is gone.
The books with their flags,
are stacked neatly on shelves.
I sit on the floor
and watch the carpet of moon
dance over the clean slate
floor down the hallway,
nothing to stop its rolling,
shadowless and cool.
Sit with me a while Luna,
give me your sheer light,
your magic in my glass
of wine—a word, a line;
leave the argentine night,
torn on the bare trees.
Like the leaves, I drift,
watching the dim spines,
filled with keen energy,
while all my songs are sleeping.
Heather Eure says
“Your magic in my glass of wine–” What’s not to love in this poem? You’ve wooed the moon.
juliea says
I love
“Sit with me a while Luna,
give me your sheer light,
your magic in my glass
of wine—a word, a line;
. . . Like the leaves, I drift,
. . . while all my songs are sleeping.
How many times have I sat and nothing has come forth, yet many times so much-and I never write it down.
Andrew H says
Musing
I long to make the meter dance
And twirl on chords of bardic joy –
With such a skill, I’d paint in words
Of gods and how they fought for Troy.
Grant unto me, oh spectral one
The grace my fathers knew-
Make every note shine like the sun,
Let each chord ring out true!
For long I’ve spent in quiet hope
Of something that I can’t express.
Where is the greater scope
That comes with your caress?
Do not shy from mortality!
It makes my inner furnace burn,
And with its flame I’ll forge a song
If only you would come along
And hold my hand, that shining light
Would make me seem a bird
Who trills unconscious songs
Which Homer near the Aegean heard.
I need this, muse of ancient myth,
For if you deign to be my flame
I’ll use my pens to craft a song
The like of which will never come again.
Sandra Heska King says
“I long to make the meter dance.” I especially like that line cuz me, too. 🙂
Welcome, Andrew. If you’ve been here before, I might have been in the back washing dishes. 😉
Andrew H says
Haha, thank you! I’ve made one other post in the Circus prompt, but understandable if you missed it. I was glad to find this place – it seems a great site, with many talented writers!
Heather Eure says
What muse could resist your earnest plea? Thanks for sharing this gem, Andrew.