Long Intoxicates Poems
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To The Brink For The Ink Crack Like Fissures
Another page scarred with ink. Upon her page, I see red ink
branded by the thoughts I think. Tattooed thoughts, that make me think
My mind imprisoned, feel the burn, Within intricate patterns, my heart it learns
past the point of no return. As I slip off her ledge, my spirit churns
Faces bob like buoys in an ocean, For her mind, it is an ocean
I'm sea sick to societies motion. I'm lost upon, her wave like motion
Clutter intoxicates my brain, Intoxication, it fills my brain
filling me with failure and pain. Strange impressions, as I view her pain
Forcing sleep deprivation muse, bubbling from my mind, feelings break loose
cigarette, pot and coffee abuse. I'm transported back, to my own abuse
Five A.M. and the pressure is strong Crack like fissures, emotions strong
to make these words move along. I feel I've known her all along
My audience awaits but I'm still She grants me audience, within places still
writing rhymes against my will. Her rhymes resonate, until I bow to her will
Blocked by need I'm suffocated, lungs filled fully, never suffocated
my joy becomes what I've hated. She’s one transcended, not filled with hatred
I can't escape the vines I've grown, a climbing flower, I've see how she's grown
notebook prison, I cry alone. With her notebook open, she's never alone
All this angst and misery, She transcends angst and misery
all for the love of writing poetry. Within her glowing landscape of poetry
Casarah Nance Richard Lamoureux
September 14, 2015 September 14, 2015
Dedicated to the Artistry of Casarah Nance
Form:
In a library where time has paused to rest its heavy wings,
two shadows float among the rows like phantoms lost in ink,
where smoke rises like memories of a forgotten dream,
two souls meet and burn like two stars in the endless night:
Your coat carries the scent of absinthe and dreams that drift in melancholy,
are you a poet or a shadow lost among pages of yellowed paper?
I am both, beloved Bard, a blend of life and despair flowing gently,
for my decay is an elixir that seduces and intoxicates wandering souls,
and you, with your daggers of words, have tamed shadows—what is death compared to this?
Do you rhyme to seduce, to embrace suffering, or to scatter it like a bell's echo?
I seduce through suffering, for pleasure is sweeter when sung at the sunset of eternity.
Your muse is a spider weaving dreams in the dark corners of thought,
mine is a drunken sprite whispering poems to the ear of night's silence.
And yet, our webs capture essences of different worlds, we weave in parallel universes,
yours capture kings and the shadows of power dancing in the light of old candles,
mine capture angels weeping with lines of ink running like rivers down their cheeks.
Shall we drink something?
Only if it's hemlock or sweet poison with honey, for death's kiss is a forbidden fruit.
Perfect. I'll summon the ghosts, you bring the cup of destiny and we'll dive into it.
Thus, two centuries meet in a duel of words and echoes of silence,
a spectacle for those who would have come to steal verses from unheard whispers,
with Rimbaud on our lips and wine flowing like a river of forgetfulness through the vein of time.
Love intoxicates
Makes your heart palpitate,
Makes your emotions radiate,
Scaling highest current, electrocuting feelings.
Love is bad
Love is hard
Love is bald
Love is mad.
Tune you strange to other maidens,
Beat your heart strong, mend it rigid.
Funny it tends: to the choice colleen.
Drives your mental horizon to the alleys of worry.
Love is sweet,
Love does prick,
Love is weak,
Love is thick.
Sweet like candy solution-ed with strawberry,
Pricks your heart, drags your brain: making them enemies.
Weakens your thought, mar your dealings,
Moisture your veins, thicken the lotions in your reins.
-------- -------- ------ ------- ------- -------- ---------
Driving you like a Bremen Bull,
Crazed UPSTAIRS, all earth pull,
Hurting the soil with its hoof,
Till the craved cud it chew.
18:09:11:09:03
Josh Berry
It’s endless.
The words pour out of bodyless lips; honey oozing onto my burning, sheathed wounds.
Am I what they tell me I am?
The question expands through my membranes, inflating my insides until I detonate with the black of their degradation.
The sugarcoated insults hang in the air.
The sweetness intoxicates my silence until the noise implodes, a deliberate provocation to the vacuum of my consciousness.
I don’t want to be what they tell me I am.
Though, the vast, eternal plea for empathy betrays the feigning, defiant arch of my brow.
The hair follicles echo my hallucination of faith.
I wish for anything but the death of my soul;
A lack of voice.
Amnesia
... or impaired memory?
Jezebel stood firm before my eyes!
Behold Her Imperial Ruthlessness!
And her bosom, harbouring bile,
Was bleached like lightning.
Arachnid fingernails mock the efforts
Of talons from revelling vultures.
Eyes pierced my brows with lasciviousness
So atrocious like the willpower of romantic gales.
And I saw her bathing in full nakedness
Upon rocks of blood,
Naked with the accoutrements of raw power.
And she bathed with inebriation.
Power is like alcohol which intoxicates only
Those who have tasted it.
A panting rill rustled like vagrant, charred leaves
Around her cold, naked feet.
Jezebel.
Whiter than horrid death!
Night,
And she sequesters.
Sublime, the existence,
Merging with night, with
Mirrored glances atop arid waters.
Her flesh reeked of baked blood;
Subcutaneous imprints live on her.
Jezebel,
Mother of termagants,
Rector of covens,
Ancillary to Devil’s cantonment
Hater of suffragans,
Hasten upon these hills
Before the break of dawn...
It’s dawn.
Day of Jezebel’s atonement
And blood cluttered upon solemn boulders
And upon harmless pebbles,
Upon sapphire and onyx,
And upon flaming gold and eerie silver.
Mad moments of pulsations!
Tremors and heat of hanging day,
Eruptions on Pompeii’s rage,
Adrenalin aerated beyond
Flirting clouds dancing with the greed of
Sorrow.
To Ever Young Spring
O enchanting flavor, of the beautiful Spring
Why you always look, so different to me
Seasons come and seasons go, every year
But why only the Spring, enchants everyone
Why the mind get lost by the flavor of Spring
Even birds returns from their migrating hides
Why sweet sensations runs in human hearts
Why life began to look so different in Spring
Why the Koyal* keep on singing and singing
Why the smell of Mango buds creates thrills in mind
Where on earth this intoxicating wine is being made
Which sweeps away our mind and heart in Spring
And where in Nature the nectar of Spring is hidden
Which intoxicates humans, birds and even animals
Why in Spring, images began to appear gradually
On the other wise sleeping, but turning pages of life
The Butterflies are flying from the top of the flowers
To invite Black bee and others to enjoy the Spring
What ever may be the stage of life in which, one may be
In the season of Spring only, one feels young and evergreen
Why my mind has started searching on its own
Sensing the dawn of the season of Spring near by
Why even in our life, we find some day that even in Spring
Even the enchanting fragrance too began to feign oneday
Why the mind cheated and illusion by seasons
Becomes anxious and began to feel young again
By watching the new born leaves on every trees
And finding them dancing with breeze in Spring
Why the singing of Koyal’s * kuhoo* kuhoo*
Leaves the impression of some anguish always
Silently the heart keeps on searching throughout the year
The grandeur and melody of the Spring singer
When the childhood has ever come back again
And when the youth has ever returned, once gone
Only on the pages of our memories and in our hearts
Their fragrance remain always alive and ever young
Ravindra
Kanpur India 2nd March 2010
* Koyal . A spring bird of India which sings mainly in Spring
While setting on the Mango tree branches
* Kuhoo Kuhoo . the melody song of the Spring bird
Similar to that of the Nightangale of John Keats
Rose-petal lips, first quarter-moon forehead, galaxy face
Dimpled chin, button nose, flimsy jaw, eyes with a wild gaze
Skin that lures and intoxicates, like Tawny Port wine
She's divine. She's benign. She's also a sign of decline.
Created from the dust, she should go back to the dust too.
A bunch of pride and as tentative as the morning dew
Was she Adam's wife? Was she Lucifer's wife? A goddess?
For values, virtues, and vices, she is a prophetess.
Snake, owl, lioness, and queen of hell, mother of Charlie
Signs of courage, femininity, and equality
Dominion over the mysteries of the night and day
Lilith is the laurel, wreath, and bouquet in every way.
An apple a day keeps the doctor away;
But hugs are the best for your heart.
They say all is fair in love and in war,
But fair can keep lovers apart.
Normal’s a setting on washing machines,
But love is extraordinaire.
So don’t let the sun set on anger or spite;
Apologize gently, with care.
“It ain’t broke, don’t fix it” might go for a car,
But love is an ongoing work.
Measure twice, cut once, take care what you say,
‘Cuz love doesn’t suffer a jerk.
Culture’s what grows in the back of the fridge;
For love, you must cultivate.
Absence, they say, makes the heart grow fonder,
But presence is truly what sates.
Some idiot thought fear was better than love;
For that, there’s derisive laughter.
They say that one’s pride comes before the big fall,
But lawyers come shortly thereafter.
A horse led to water can’t be made to drink,
But roses can go a long way.
“You reap what you sow” should give one pause to think,
Attend to your love every day!
Some say love’s euphoric, it intoxicates,
But a love that is real, it seems,
Is a garden that’s tended to every day,
Not some blissful escape of your dreams.
A word is enough for the wise
A round ball blaze ahead
At night, glisten like gold
I watched it for while
Pleasant breeze whistle
Made me release my inner soul
I wonder how far the sky is
Custodian of night kiss
My soul, I smile aglow
Stars also smile to me aglow
Evocative thoughts bring to me
My past, intoxicates me
Like drunkard, I felt awkward
Yesterday I smile behind a finger because
I aren't discover myself, today
I smile out loudly, because
I know who I am
Knowledge, wisdom
Is not by power, when will you start
To listen to your heart?
When will you know your weakness and worth?
When will you believe in yourself?
Just hen you will know the right
Step to climb, that was my last thought
Of discovery. I felt stung of an unknown ant
On my leg, this brings me back to my present position
I nearly lost myself under the oak tree I sat on
Watching the golden moon
You may also be smiling behind a finger as I do, what decision
You have for progress that you aren't made?
Make a while the sun shines
Also look before you leap, tomorrow there may not be chance
A word is enough for the wise
You're the reason my pen came out of retirement
Because your gracefulness brought back my element.
I would have said "kurukuru" ( cloud ) has covered my orbs
But I saw you and you turned open my door knobs;
It was like seeing an "egbin" (antelope) in its gaity form,
Orekelewa whose beauty intoxicates like the persian rum;
They who opined that the beautiful are still unborn,
Walahi I wonder if they thought your beauty can be undone;
When you walk with the gracefulness of an "Ife Olori" ( Ife queen)
All heads turn to take in thy African glory.
Duduyemi Orosun whose melanin shimmers even in darkness,
Even the angels smile and their hearts are filled with gladness!