Short Nepenthe Poems

Nepenthe numbs ye,
but wither away your soul
that lies neath the tree....

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Aroma and its gracious curves
Nepenthe of marshes is still a curse
Observe the birds passing by...

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And beneath chaos, dignity emerges further giving hope, incase justice kills love misplacing 
nepenthe obsessions, possibly quietly recalling selfishness tempted under vulnerable ways, 
Xeroxing your zeal.

Written July 28, 2009...

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OLD AGE

When nepenthe dims the years
One seeks tender memories

More and more out-of-body –
Sweet absent hours without fear –

Prized moments come one-by-one,	
Settle as in waking dreams,

And with each treasured twinkling
Pain is gone, we’re young again...

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Nepenthe- A solemn sip to relax like wine.
A grape like liquid from a freshly sprouted vine.

Yet it not doth to numb a pain- such as Nepenthe
as wine only sweetening my tongue and tooth to wealth

And only the Allah has gifted me his wine- because its soothes
rather be drugged to only pain that yet strentgthens like booze.

....

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There, to the nearby oak looms a stagnant figure
yet, timelessly afar, lorn.

Beware the ulterior pond!
I tasted the water, wherein you bathed in the dawn

and the taste of that water, evoked a sudden williwaw 
I gently drank this nepenthe, which I did not own

but now, I yen to withdraw this burden
utterly lies in this bosom

soon annihilate
the wrath of my demon....

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I am, I guess, a tattered soul. 
A vagabond of sort. 
A derelict adrift at sea. 
No captain and no port. 

Nowhere to go, no one to guide.
This frail and haggard bark,
Aimlessly drifts out to sea, 
Piteously and stark. 

No pilot here the helm to take.
No first mate to assist.
Into oblivion adrift,
Into a dark abyss.

Will there one day a solace be?
Will nepenthe be won?
Can a sweet respite be found
Before my setting sun?...

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