Poetic Proclivities…


filling fidelities of blank paper

with promiscuities of poetic fantasy,

as wine is spilt in purple splashes

on creeping moments of crepuscule,

by a ruddy-faced alcoholic sun,


and cicadas serenade

unaware of their fallacies of tone

lost in naiveté of bliss,

and intrigued moon peers on

popcorn moments bursting

with vivid recollections in silence,


I try to capture elusive syllables

of burgeoning poetry,

as it floats in lowercase letters

like cinnamon rolls’ scattering aromas

in anticipations of appetite,

or honeyed imprints left by treacle

rolling down sugar-lorn tongues…



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