A Drunkard Thoughts Poem by Johnson Emmanuel

I drink to this hour quiet here at dusk
Where the moon tell tales of solitude
I drink to this hour quiet here at dusk
Where the sun valiant toil has lost her fortitude.
And to this hour quiet here at dusk
Where the stars in their entourage march with their silvery white
I drink to the memories of shadow and dust
That transit thru the tunnel of unknown flight.
I drink to love that came and now she is gone
With no brokeness of a winter sigh
And to her memories in my heart unsung
That had no perfect lows nor high,
I drink to friendship that has become a gall
To my palate of self comfort
And I drink to the leaves of solitude that knows no fall
Nor shall in her greeness experience a rot.
I drink to my childhood of sesimic waves
That disturbed the peace of mother earth
And to my dreams that was captured by the raves
Of my hanky panky childish death,
I drink to the silent whispers of the atmosphere
That reveals not the thoughts of time
And to life's conic sphere
That dances to heaven's rhyme.
I drink to the dead of death
I drink to lives of life
I drink to earth vain fame and wealth
I drink to our immortal peace and strife,
I drink to the law that obliterates
The wreath of our chestnut pride
And to the hope that anticipate
Revolution in a smooth wheel ride.
I drink to our wisdom courtship with egoism
And to the corrupted conscience of our knowledge
I drink to the foolhardy hopes of our optimism
That has kept us running helter sketer on an achilles hedge,
I drink to our rumors marriage with our truth
On the altar of our prejudicial common sense
And to our beliefs that gives no soothe
To an highway dark an enlightening irridiscence
And finally I drink to this drink
That has inspired these ignoramus musings
And to whatever consequences that shall make me sink
Into the vexing mudslides of the masses concerning these musings.