A Poet is a Beast

I devour mildewed
Morning's cup of emotions
Chilled in the attic
last night's blue moon
Peeped inside
My disturbed sleep
Brewing a cauldron of
fateful dreams.

Haunted household
Mismatched rooms
Suites of beguiling deception
Each turn of the staircase
Arrays of derailed decisions
Derangement definite, if
Delayed.

The gorge rises to
Make a bolus
Baffled belittled bulimic
to eject reject and purge
The enemy within
To husband energies
Muster reserves,
Master the madness
Within.

Grief growing looming
Like an idea burgeoning
Into black hole singularity
An ominous
Aperture
At the end of
A one way street.

A demonic urge
To annihilate self destruct
For what greater glory or
Lesser
For what futile fulcrum of
Balance
For what dead breath of
Remembered fresh air?

The poet is a beast
Languishing for
Forgotten scents
Evocation sacred
Of what never was
yet
Must needs be.

Two fairy wings
Clawed apart
By demonic obsession
Googling eyes
Hungry ever after
Greedy for more
Than a tale can hold.

(c) Amrita Valan 2016