Short Inebriation Poems

Love isn't phenomena,
That raises emotional hair,
Nor it is pulsating heart 
in inebriation,
It's the benevolent feelings
You have for others;

© sadashivan nair...

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The Irish, 'tis said, as a nation,
They're quite fond of inebriation.
  So they guzzle large vats
  On the day called St. Pat’s
'Tween rounds of Gaelic fornication. 

(3/15/2017)...

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An opened fifth of hangovers
rests beside his dried driveled arm
(drug used by underachievers.)
Out cold, head resting on forearm
Unconscious in a dreamless world,
a portal often frequented:
an alcoholics netherworld
and mind most disoriented.
A parched throat forces arousal
And miasmic exhalations
rekindle once more pitiful
repeated, inebriation.
A morning swig begins his day
and ends the same as yesterday....

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Aloof on the battle field her combat skill cries,
Irish blood runs wild with little inebriation,
Indian warrior counts coup in feather stories,
Russian Viking lines in dormant breeding.

Duchess plays nature with tulip aroma,
Creative Polish gene encounters blush with pink,
A wild thing as the spirits seduces her faith;
Tempting to redo her life's aspirations?

Touch me not with your hate for I am no kin;
Hold me to thy lips with love so we may sin....

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Listen to poem:

Don’t ask the gods if they sent
sedatives to cure the pain
those aches of body’s frame
or the trials of mind’s domain

indulgence in the medicine
not prescribed but still pursued
by the drink or much more
addressing woes all deplore

removing more than agony
when composure is reduced
inebriation of the whole
in pursuit of the profane

to be wasted is called a sin
this sacrament now denied
even as the misery
demands a world that’s more humane....

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I narrate a fable,
Went through in my life;
Had well wishers and friends,
They all had loved;
But came the bad time too,
Lost all I earned in life;
In worst time of my life,
All distanced,
None stayed my side;
Threw me from their life,
As withered rose;
Friendship deserts you,
When no inebriation they find;
I learned a lesson,
Build yourself so strong,
That even pain may
kneel before you;
friends may step up,
And follow you;

© Sadashivan Nair...

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I saw the pig and the clown coming my way with their drink.
They were well into their cups. I had this quick ugly think.
I jumped into a bush and tried to become invisible to them.
They were crazed with alcohol, two silly old men.

Slap happy and nutty, they were sloshing their words.
I rolled my eyes at their inebriation; both were quite absurd.
Where is that giant fork and that delightful silver spoon?
I ignored their laughter, as they howled at the moon....

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How quickly I got drunk on him
He was the salt I licked off the rim 
    of glass after unsatiable glass
Intoxicated on love, over the brim
I drank beyond limit, beyond control
    until inebriation took an ugly toll


Then the drinks became too bitter
    like sparkling champagne loses its glitter
In sober state I admitted my mistake -
    drunkenness is a hard hitter
I taste salt from tears upon my tongue
    because of a song I should've left unsung...

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Consume not liquid lest you feel inebriation
The fat of this earth shall not pass your tongue.
While under the thrall of this passionless thing
Never again to know reality's touch.

Beware the effects
that will certainly occur.
The thoughts may cause some nausea

when you see the malady
mercurial and volatile
spinning straight into the sky.

Swallow whole this deliverance
and salivate with indifference.

Do not chew and do not crush,
and do not dare inhale the dust....

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I can't hold... I Can't hold..
My supple depth of heart,
Blooms in savor, 
Sways odor of yearning;
I may drown in thine,
Flowing wavy lake;
I may be lost in thine,
Rising seductive tides;
I can't hold... I can't hold..
Wet buds of thine lips,
Sways romantic aroma,
Drags me in to seek;
Enthralling sugary nectar, 
I vacillate in inebriation;
Until I lie numb in thine lap;
I can't hold... I can't hold..
Like a bee I hover, 
Around the hive of thine;

© Sadashivan Nair...

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No nearer nighttime.
In my own arms I have nurtured
the sweetest flagellation.
Moth to inferno once more.

Silver septum skin.
She snaps from divine touch
to sputtering projection.
Roll credits where credit is due.

Everything ends eventually.
Her sanctified smile shines
through tears, floods, inebriation.
Just in time for happy unhappy hours.

Where was wonder?
I will delicately segment and untie
her endless memory speck by speck.
Until she is remade, removed, relived.
...

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