Enchanted by spring’s
rustling whispers
     ... whistles swirl
in the pungent springtime breeze;
steeped with a bedazzling
        cadence
   heart dancing
to a hummingbird’s
         whirs

   waves of breath,
of little wings waft,
whooshing throughout
twining honeysuckle lattice
       a
tiny manger
beset of hidden gold
precious speckled eggs, 
silver lining of smallest hopes
   fruits of fruition
   continuum beheld prize,
concealed in interwoven rootlets;
   
potently perfumed flowers
       while away
the waning dark hours;
swollen full flower moon
           waxing yellow,..
         heavenly fragrance
sweetly-scented suckled nectar
  
the one with eyes of a child,
   wonder ― hidden inside,  
   marvel in the light of grateful eyes
imbibing an unholdable moment's
    spellbinding elixir 
    ... poetry alive

air  so poignantly perfumed
       with blossom
        moonstruck
by spring’s frolicking cadency
a reverent moment's
edifying intoxication

       a sobering beauty that just is...



someone ... May 2017

Intoxication
in the name of religion
leads to salvation
of others.

Drinks of power
always shower
egoistic pleasure
of winners.

Alcoholism
reflects mannerism
just as prism
of lovers.

26th March 2017

What is lost
   can never be found
      in the labyrinth of the mind.  

What was it you were seeking
   in this dark and dusty atmosphere?
Now doomed, you are, to find it;
   for you never will escape
The twist and turns of your
   mangled memory;
For what path is there to take?

Your string has been cut by the
   Brute
      Bullheaded
          Beast

Turn  corners
   Just to find dead ends,
Turn back
   To find them gone
With every disconnect
   recollected before dawn.

Then at the Sun’s behest
   The dew turns to rolling fog
     And that, which once was settled,
        Escapes upon the wind

My mind is stirring.
Keep the bottle pouring.
Intoxication taking over.
Pour a little more.
Sight blurry,
Coordination out the door.  
How many times have I been here before?
Thoughts are heavy,
They won't leave me alone.
Drink,
Until their mouths are closed.
No more voices but your own.
Bottle down,
I'm one the ground.
Why am I here again?
Numb and cold.
No one understands.
Am I alone ?

Trees are the veins of the Earth,
Silhouettes against the night.
Trees are the arms of the Earth,
Trying to touch the sky.

If I gaze upon that sight,
Will I too strive higher?
Or be intoxicated,
By the poison of its desire.

We march.
Broken.
Devestated.
Deprived.
Unaware of our destination.

So as an act
Of bravery,
Of sadness or
Of fear.

But all we do,
Everywhere we go
We still need a purpose
We still need our motivation

To escape and live
To re start and re gain
To achieve and destroy
To become and to forget.

But till we find our destination,
We try to die,
We try to intoxicate
But lack to be remembered after death.

We march
For nothing
For the faded
For the shattered
For a forgotten cause

I'd rather be a raisin than a grape
With no juice or sweetness
Desolate of hydration
Dried via sun
Wrinkled and battered
Has endured strife
Became bitter over time

But I'd rather be wine than a raisin
Potent and strong
Powerful in simplistic form
Living only to intoxicate those who consume me

For so naturally time absorbs life
Making one **** with age
Dry from existence
Then robust through struggle

I'd rather be a raisin than a grape, but I'd rather be wine than a raisin.