Thursday

The Great Experience

The Great Experience

I have come to the realisation that every poem that I have ever written is, within my mind, bound to a moment in my life and came to me through an experience.
This great piece of information is useless to me as I have the most unreliable memory bank ever. I feel like my mind is one of those banks that needed money from the government during the recession. Useless!

For the experiences that I can remember, I will make it a point to try and explain the Experience to you.

“My words is alcohol.
Aphrodite’s ethanol,
a toxic love potion
That slurs my stutter
And blurs my emotions.
Derailing thought processes and cognitive motions,
Inhibiting my innermost fears.
I shake.
Quaking uncontrollably at the sight of this deity.
Good God. What a beauty!

My words is spring
The enchanting aromas of new beginnings.
Sweet tulips,
Dripping with the essence of romance.


My words is stolen kisses.
Forbidden.
Like true knowledge in the garden of Eden
My every word is the epitome of love.

My words is everyday prayers.
Pleading forgiveness.
Pledging redemption and honouring a relative salvation.
My words is denied loving,
Relentless and ravenous.
…”

- © My Words (2006) – an extract

Namaste.

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