I am drunk again- a poetry
The high spirit
Today I'm drunk, once again
and on the top of the world for now
Till I crash on my so called bed
a mattress, a few pillows, that's all.
I look around to see those butterflies
Which are not there normally
But they are there for the time being
Songs without lyrics and meanings
Air pregged by feelings
Oh! What a feeling, can't draw
even with softwares, to say the least
No lines, no contours, only abstracts
Its more of shortlived fragrance and smell
Its not new, its a routine
A couple of times in a week
That is the contract with my partner
And, that is how my cravings have adjusted to
I admire the power of this golden liquid
The alcohol or booze
It lifts me up to ground zero
From the depths of the debris, inner turmoil
Freely roaming in the mind and its accessories, the nerves and veins
Shattered dreams, pieces of breakage, all over the place
The booze starts trickling inside
The maze of alleys towards the brain
And all encompassing change happens
Lingers for some time
The songs reappear, musical notes abound
The stupor merges into slumber
Until the morning lights through the window
Yell and shout, thorns start flying
Hit me hard in all the pores
A sweet honeymoon falls
On the concrete, cold, cruel and stoned
In front of highrise, windows in skies
The sound silenced, absorbed by walls, color and paint
I wait for the next time, counting down
It is a big solace, even though ephemeral
In this drudgery of daily life
Its such a wonderful med
Though hated by all and sundry
Especially the members of the family
The conflict goes on and on
Unnecessarily, driven by age old prejudices
Like all humans, caught in their own web
Wriggling to come out
Blaming all the outside thorn
But the fact remains
That when you have a problem of your own
You try to fix a responsibility
On something outside your own
Like my boozing becomes a center
Of turmoils in the neighborhood at times
That is the biggest fallacy
The greatest source of pain for all
Is all inside, the base design, DNA and so
But we get tortured and endure the pain
Forgetting one very important theory
That all the pain and happiness
In most of the cases, situations
Are our own choices
Whether agreed by me, you or none
But all said and done
Long live booze if its servile
But always itches to take control, usurp
The incessant battle goes on
Till the war is lost or won.
