The chalice was brimming
Brewed of nepenthe and dreams
Poured out, in a cup
And whisked down with sugar-coated anxiety.
Of muted traumas, painted in cheerful hues
And clamouring heartbeats…heartaches?…wrung
With clarinet tunes.
I have emptied the chalice in a gulp
As riveting memories play on a constant loop.
A trashy LP, a longish pause;
A frantic search for the missing slot.
Not vocables or filler songs
But jarring screeches, stretching long.
Blank spaces made, from words erased
Rubbed out with force,
Tearing the page.
My conscience dipped, and left to bloat.
Sodden, as the ink ran amuck
In tiny rivulets of blue and gold.
So washed away, without a trace.
Between jarring screeches and words erased,
Between dabbled ink and a shoddy page,
14 June 2016