cheep wine has begun
it's crime,
to release the reppressed,
beast inside of me.
The magnetised eyes,
have realised,
that the T.V wont change the outcome-
all fun end when darkness decends-
Friends. Distant reminders,
of an old life, the old Testament,
fictional to the feelings,
i feel today.
The Window behind me,
is once again a mirror,
the dark of the night,
has covered one side,
and instead of the Garden of my Eden,
my face, notebook and wine,
stare back at me.
Yet when morning comes,
my face will no longer grace the window,
No a sleepy shabby garden,
shall meet me,
with a tree,
felled by the late summer winds,
there is has slept on the grass,
for 4 months now.
How long it took to grow,
how quickly it came to fall.
like me i suppose,
slowly maturing by day,
only to die by night,
poisened by the promises,
of age old liquid.
slowly but surely,
the wine ends it battle with time,
and prepares me for sweet drunken
poets sleep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the sweet grace of chemistry never fails a million years of evolution has prepared your brain to transform when the stuff flows from bottle to blood yet another need exists and shall not be denied the yearning to create and how that creation goes deeper than time back to the beginning to seek God's truth in putting down a poem so the soul can rise up at last free