A Dose of That

No Time for Recreation

In the unforgiving sense

No gasping for repeals

In the circus of repented ideals

Vials of this and doses of that

Every solution

Won’t provide you

With what you’re looking for

Archaic, convenient

Jagged, restored

Fleeting,

Are the songs sung while you sleep it off,

Filling your surroundings

With Gospels of prosody,

Stories have been told

Passed from elders to kin,

Retold in book form

And traditions lose their historical sense

A slight alteration to the text

May destroy or may surprise

Depends upon the context of the consequence

Hovels of the Betrothed

My Betrothed,

Whom I’ve yet to meet,

My wicked lovely,

Has the flu found its way through and through?

I cheated,

I looked you up,

I am pleased, but

A solitary question squeezes me,

Once we sit face to face,

Once the veils have been erased,

In closed corners, for forever or for more,

The answer to my question will chant to me,,

How traditional can you force yourself to be?

 I watch the Silkworms walk the loom,

As scents long forgotten softly burn,

A hint of childhood does return,

No man can be this blessed

Karma is never this well dressed

My reprieve from who am I,

Has done a number on who I am