Short Distillation Poems

true fulfilment
    an ethereal fantasy
    of
     tempetuous romance
     in a 
perfect distillation
     free
        of hierarchy
this
  creative antipathy

a diffused presence

the perspective
of impersonal beauty
in
a
    potential muse...

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Best wishes in mentions . Less mess with which best left to rest . More distance distillates dislike that dawns delight . Illumination lifts hates distraught brought to rot with lips on eerie words . So set in settle if rest feels eerie , distance brings distillation to dismiss ....

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fresh Moonshine
hidden jars in barn
country road

~~~~~~~~~~~:::~~~~~~~~~~~

sweet corn from the field
natural grain distillation
liquid vapor flows

~~~~~~~~~~~:::~~~~~~~~~~~

mountain still brewing
transforming barley and rye
Appalachian!

~~~~~~~~~~~:::~~~~~~~~~~~...

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In the eye of many whirlwinds
Stays a deep, dark pool,
Tranquil and translucent,
At the vortex of Being,
Forever fed by subtle springs
Which give mysterious birth to
Thoughts pure and lucid
In their easy distillation.
Time is sure to transport, but
Mortality's ride is muffled
In this sweet, serene suspension....

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long as it rhymes an staggers in time, 
an poetry is yes, inspiration, 
you can check for a bit, 
of bull in me line, 
poetry comes from thought distillation,
produces wine or a whine, 
till the cementry chimes, 
words come on the next inhalation, 
sometimes...


Thanks to 
Laura Breidenthal  Jerkasauras...

Don ...

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Cessation of thought ego begot, gradual graded disassociation from fear & desire precipitation, we hollow out mind-body from cravings & urgings shoddy, even as divine magnetism within persists we be to become a bliss mist, until ceasing to weigh & size we simply vaporise!

How to calibrate
Attention distillation
There is no one here...

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It was a lingering goodbye 
for anchor moon
after a religious embrace.
I bid farewell 
in the chilling night
for a song of separation.

Where the beginning ends
into a house of distillation.
Blasphemy, where did you find
the anatomy of truth ? Mortality
demands a long 
journey of tender age in prayers of sprouts. 

The eloquence of dictionary 
expects the price of hoofs 
to stay with otherness.

Satish Verma...

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The pain of someone
discovering
who I am
leaves me
raw

But

Creep inside my mind
take a quick peek
at how we
are the
same

Because

Heart hidden mem’ries
of our last kiss
recall you
to my
mind

As

Sweet Pandora’s box
is waiting to
be opened
at your
touch

Because

With your artist’s soul,
you’ve engraved your
name on my
poet’s
heart ...

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Fragrant blossoms imbue
in a distillation of technicolor vision
across the dampened meadow,
awakening it from a winter repose.

Dew-tipped grass lightly bends
as a chilled breath swirls in the air.
Verdant landscape hues cover
faraway shadowed rolling hilltops.

A crispness in the surrounding signals
an embraced dusting of vapors,
following a light cloudburst above:
A sprinkling refresh for growth.

Spring has sprung....

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Burnt up lilac inferno blazes forest
Homeless wingers endeavor, build the new nest
Skyscape descends, inundates smoky ether
Nature in ashes.

Flame of anger perforates mental terrain
Ember notion revengeful, outlook sightless
Serene essence distillates sedate solace
Consciousness frozen.

__________________

Written January 29, 2019
Syllable count checked on HMS
William Kekaula's contest : Your Best Sapphic Stanza...

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In a damp, dark cave
With her twisted evil laugh
She has help from all her slaves
As She practices her craft

She takes an eye of newt
Purees it with a frog
Throws in, a leather boot
And a few hairs from a dog

She speaks an incantation
And I'm awaked from the dead
Then pours this distillation
In a bowl, that's by the bread

You'd think she'd used a spell
'Cause I obey her like a fool
And grab my books and lunch box
As she sends me off to school...

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A name by which beauty itself compares,
No other would dare speak of you,
The essence of Rose, ephemeral perfume,
Wild honeysuckle and fresh morning dew.
Persona aflame, vibrant furnace of petals,
A complex, intense distillation,
Of the sweet, the pure, the ultra-hip sensual,
Strictly feminine combination.
And when dreams forsake as dreary dust,
Dried and faded on a harsh Winter’s lawn,
Her endless Spring breathe life to their bones
And by her kiss reborn…...

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What is something blue; the bride will tuck away her someday
in her til-death-do-they-part bouquet-distillation.
—by poet

Light up the darkness with star sound.
honey moon, round,
brilliantly blue -
preemptive view.
Sound of the sky, lights up bride’s gown;
blessings flow down.
Black rose, of groom,
forever bloom
in a silver-moonshine bouquet.
It’s bride’s someday
and her groom’s plight -
round-robin rite.
...

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Quiet!  Quiet!
No distraction or reaction
to the situation
of creation
unfolding syncopation ...
a blues distillation.

As the sax-o-phone 
does groan into a tirade
the parade of ticks and tocks
licks and knocks
reverberate from the drummer,
bass strummer and pi-an-o
to congeal into real
high fueled blues.

Up and down the scales
the moan wails
a lascivious groan
lusty riffs thrown
by metal and ivory
into the ether to
sway with a sashay
under a blue moon....

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