Long Inebriating Poems
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Tulips and lilies never smelled
so fragrantly inebriating
by the lake of the half-moon,
I sense the ineffable mystery
of an alluring and serene evening;
remote breezes so unforeseen
and unquestionably redolent
slightly touch the motionless surface
of the silvery and bluish lake so comely
and limpid while drowsy oaks and spruces
sway their long and thick branches...
as if silence were an act of reverence!
In the deserted town strangely
someone sits on the bend of the lake
of the half-moon as he stares
at the luminescent Northern Star
striking the strings of his guitar
with his skilled, young fingers...
suddenly everything harmonizes
with his beautifully played melody,
but he's so amazed by the splendor of the lake
of the half-moon that he doesn't hesitate
to join the invisible nightingales to praise
the indubitable presence of the Creator!
The Birth
1
Breathe baby—breathe.
2
Out of the darkness of night
crept the dawn;
steaming with thirst
the dry mouth sun rose
inebriating its self
with the morning dew—
leaving empty blades of grass
scattered across the landscape.
3
The lazy old sea
urged on by quite winds
laboriously spat out
lethargic waves—whimpering
tears of fickle frothed faces
repeatedly slapped at the shores.
4
A lone sea gull sliced
through the salt laden air
leaving a pasty white trail—
an umbilical reminder—left
behind the perilous journey’s end.
5
Laying in veranda hammock
of roped womb, I cracked a smile—
whispering to the Creator—singing
praises for yet another birth of day.
With mild rays the Sun doth snuggle me in this breezy morn,
Oh Earth, forget thy imminent wintry woes, as Fall placateth thee,
She giveth offerings of raspberries and vines of gorgeous taste,
The senile year will make thee moan with inebriating bounty,
Oh Earth, forget thy imminent wintry woes, as Fall placateth thee,
Benignant nature hath set ablaze the crimson maple today,
The senile year will make thee moan with inebriating bounty,
My desirous mind seeketh solace in nature's succulent arms,
Benignant nature hath set ablaze the crimson maple today,
She giveth offerings of raspberries and vines of gorgeous taste,
My desirous mind seeketh solace in nature's succulent arms,
With mild rays the Sun doth snuggle me in this breezy morn.
2019 October 25
Poet's October Pantoum Cash Prize Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: William Kekaula
Stumbling all over the sidewalk....
Eyes completely glazed.
It was something that had to be done,
It was one of those kind of days.
So after work, I went to the store,
With only one thing in mind....
To take the edge off of my soul,
To leave this day far behind.
I took my first shot, and started to feel great.
I took my second shot, and began to celebrate.
Third shot, fourth shot, fifth shot....
I kept on going.... it felt so good.
Plans to stop? I think not.
I began to smile and laugh at the inebriating pleasure,
Of knowing I could end the day, happier beyond measure.
I walked down the road, dazed and out of it....
When I got the phone call.
I answered with a slurred speech, "hello!"
"Let's go buy things from the mall!!!"
"Let's ride down the street with the music up loud,"
"I feel so good right now, as if I'm on a drunken cloud."
Little did I know, upon reaching my destination,
I fell down to the front porch, drowned in inebriation.
I was too gone....
I was way too gone....
I crept up the stairs into my room,
Not making one single peep.
Tripped over my daughter's toys and passed out....
I fell fast asleep.
Out of the darkness of night
crept the dawn.
Steaming with thirst,
the dry mouth sun rose—
inebriating itself with morning
dew—leaving sparkling stars of green
scattered across the quilted earth.
The graying, languid sea,
annoyed by quiet cheerful winds,
laboriously molded lethargic waves;
lethargic waves of fickle frothed faces
falling upon the pillowed shores.
Above, a lone sea gull
slices through the salt laden air—
leaving an invisible trail—memories
left behind by the perilous journey’s end.
Laying in the roped womb
of verandah hammock, I cracked a smile,
and humming praises to the Creator,
gave thanks for sharing another birth of day.
Cloaked in black she sat
with covered eyes from a broad rimmed hat.
Encircled in a wispy shade of cerise
that dripped to fade into the fleece.
Lines that linger on the chair
follow her finger like liquid air
as she stencils out the curlicue
depicted with pencils in her view.
Down the wall with a dilatory slither
and intent to enthrall by use of his myrrh
he skillfully eluded his own detection
making her mind his chamber of protection.
His volcanic eyes thrust into her thought
erupting the lust she longfully sought
igniting her vision like a candelabrum
an incision devising her to succumb.
Licking the salt from a lover's lips
speaking the scripts in hum
becoming embossed in indium
and forgetting fault of nothing but tongues.
Silhouetting the cast of questions surpassed
indulging in the treasure of temporary leisure.
Her guard was let down as she started to drown
in the light of the fire and her own desire
Unforeseen antecedently.
A scene drawn out by a welcoming invasion
she remains devout to enamouring persuasion
Still life flickering and unceasing to amaze
Like a liquor releasing inward
The inebriating reward of her very own blaze.
It was in the beautifully majestic Florida Keys
Where I visited with my beloved grand-mother
She introduced me to the Frangipani with its luscious clusters
The fragrance was bewitchingly inebriating
Soon I couldn’t distinguish the petals from the butterflies
Twilight had gradually descended without a sound
Till the mockingbirds bellowed their glorious chants
Amidst the enchantment of an ancestral menagerie
Like royalty, we slowly sipped from delicate pellucid crystal glasses
Vermilion and gold had infused the ripples of the ocean before us
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted for contest TEN WORDS AND TEN LINES CHALLENGE sponsored by SILENT ONE - January 6, 2018 - RANKED 2ND
Here
in the yuletide
season,
today’s
peace on earth
and good will…
lay hidden somewhere
in the attic of bygone days:
wrapped in cobwebs of time.
Once considered obsolete—
hopefully benign—
malignant war
has become
the trend today;
Our war sick world,
drunk on inebriating
negative wisdom,
has evolved into an oxy-
moronic society—hailing
war as a negative good.
Indeed the winter season
of peace on earth…
has become a warring
sales season
rather than the season
of giving peace.
The red, white
and green arrays
no longer signal
joyous of times
but have become
grievous reminders
of the bombings
of peaceful children
whose blood coagulates
in war’s putrid flotsam.
Pregnant mothers
in silence of death
beseech forgiveness—
aborting babes; wretched
deaths of brutal conflict:
In psalms of grief
mercy contemplates
the choices.
Despite it all,
as we struggle in faith
let us be ever mindful
that above us
is the attic of God—
where warmly wrapped
in swaddling love,
abides audacious hope:
the creative good will
towards all
echoing on the horizon—
Come, let us welcome
the new dawning
bringing the vitality
of God’s abiding peace—
moving us forever forward
to the day when evil war weapons
shall be mould into plowshares
and pruning hooks of grace.
The dream lives; the vision is;
the reality comes.
I often visited the prittiest and kindest lady,
who lived by an abandoned, weedy cemetery...
and she told me tales that made me dream;
up that pine-scented and rugged hill, the Devil tripped many times and finally fell:
when her holiness set her gracious face aglow!
And she never cursed God, but continued her creed,
believing that she was put on earth to sanctify love;
and she planted many seeds in the moist garden...flowers that made her life livelier!
Exchanging her pure soul for money, never tempted her:
living happily and continuously blessing God's name;
if that's how one is blessed, many shouldn't need to wonder...
how she never asked anyone for anything...relying on Providence!
Every spring morning she tended to those roses and gardenias,
like mothers care for their adored children; and she sang
opera like a glamorous prima donna on the illuminated stage:
how astonished were the passersby hearing those lovely areas!
Giovanna, lovely prima donna, sing another beautiful area for me,
let me hear how a soprano can feel that divine harmony;
teach me all the lyrics and the tunes that embellish them:
I am a quick-learner and my passion goes beyond my talent!
Giovanna, lovely prima donna, you sought no honors or earthly glory,
and your visions were grander than those idolized singers,
who only asked for applauds and repeats from the cheering crowds;
you had none of these...only this aspiring-tenor-to-be!
I passed by her house yesterday, the shades were pulled down...her garden
without butterflies was arid and the pretty flowers fluctuated no more;
and the tall pines trees didn't offer their inebriating, sweet aroma,
but there was no sound of Giovanna's voice, the voice of the lovely prima donna:
canaries and bluebirds weren't frantically tapping on her closed window!
In a white laced dress, wearing red shoes and a green velvety hat:
she displayed her national pride, recalling the enchanted land of music and poetry,
where her unforgettable childhood was spent with an innocence so free!
Tell me those lies
you alone can tell
with that spark in your eyes
as accompanying jest
I’ll take the mirage
of love my friend
hide in a smile
the pain
of a heart lacerated
by claws
hidden in softness
of paws
Trust me it’s love
Autumn tears
falling
washing wound
then covering
with sunset leaves
capping
with snow soft gauze
protecting
from passionate winds
while resting
in arms of love
protected
Trust me it’s love
Sun rays peaking
then hiding
through wind blown
curtains inviting
to flowering branch
where hiding
love bird is singing
and waiting
for heart to get drunk
on sunlight
dreaming of paradise
awaiting
Trust me it’s love
Pearly moon light
romancing
pupils seem to vanish
reversing
pale night sky
into an expanse
of serene blue light
breezy spring scent
inebriating
music of stars serenading
two hearts
circling each other
Forever in love
Sixt Place Winner: Brian Strand Contest 1290-2/29/24
First Place Winner: Brian Strand-All Yours-3/4/21
Sixth Place: Craig Cornish- Blue- 1/11/19
Sixth Place: William Kekaula- Say It Again- Contest-5/15/21.
Third Place: Brian Strand-No 1203-3/27/23