Turbulent landing
Spinning the head
Bit of Champagne
Before bed
Tipsy toes
Calming the nerve
Bottle of spirits
One more serve
Hairdo disheveled
Over the face
Resting the glass
On sofa chase
Not a soul in sight
In the night silence
Only the mind
Finding its balance
Cells of variety
Seeping out the brain
Leaving in vain
In search of sobriety
If only it was true
“In vino veritas”
Many would be awake
And nobody so blue
Sip sip hooray!
TREE STORIES
Deep into the forest
Walked we eagerly
Birds chirped above
Tall trees strangled
By a small fig seed
Soon to be overpowered
Overgrown and hollow
The canopy filled with light
Sun slowly moved across
The leafy outlook
Sudden sound in the bush
Eyes wide open
Ears pricked
Paws holding a seed
Wallaby on a watch
In the rotting leaves
Mushrooms attached
To an old tree branch
Sucking life out of it
Underground unseen
Creatures of the dark
Earthworms long and many
Appear after storm
The day was just perfect
For a forest story
Rested
In The Space Of Time
Nose in a hole
Peeking into future
Gathering strength
Stepping up a ladder
Through the window
Of opportunity
Up towards the sky
Full of flying balloons
At the edge of reality
Oxygen poor
Flying into space
Breathing restricted
A flight to new heights
Greatness on the wings
Stars of possibilities
Expanding into space
Dove of peace
On its feathered back
Brings a message
In a glass vial
On a parchment paper
Words that read:
“Be still and know I am you”
Then the sound of an alarm.
FREE SMILES AT THE BAR
One who smiles a lot
Carries calm wrinkles
One who frowns often
Keeps a horseshoe face
One who needs Corona
To quench their thirst
One gets their dose of news
To satisfy their curious mind
The hook has been thrown
The shrimp is on the line
Drowning fish in the ocean
Suffocating for air
Nothing more than a bite
Food for some wild life for others
No eyes can see through
The tricks of the mind
Where do you turn
On the edge of the Earth
Your back towards the past
Future’s worst nightmare
Coming to age of maturity
Awakening of newborn Souls
Witch channels on the TV set
Proclaiming one marketed truth
One needs a lot of dope-amine
To sustain this life cycle
Without a razor and haircuts
Non essential castaways
Bleak enough forecast
Showers unforeseen
Rainbow lost its hue
Sun burned a hole inside my brain
Savior’s number scratched off the page
“Is it me you’re looking for?”
A soft voice responds to my cries
From the music box
Standing at the bar
Closed temporarily
Waiting for a takeaway
Shot of illusion of reality
Toast!
