In His Cups

IN HIS CUPS

A sip of wine
A hint of melody …
Hallowed foundations
Shift ungoverned

Melt into lavaflows
Unleash unadmitted yearnings
Challenge this paltry masquerade
Yelled from minaret or pulpit

Hounded by fatwa and heresy
Across the centuries, this dented I
Which has, for all of that brouhaha
Such shallow roots

Must be why they ban
These dangerous demons
Intoxication, music,
Dancing, sex

While we for our part
Fight tooth and nail
To retain or else regain
These royal roads

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About Ben Naga

Pilgrim on the lam. Please feel free to explore the links to learn more. I trust you will find some things there will have been worth the effort. See you there.

Posted on April 25, 2017, in Poetry, Republished and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 6 Comments.

  1. Tremendous! and the brouhaha too. I must try to write a context for brouhaha, thanks for a remembered feeling, not for me Anymore. A thing of the past now…

    Liked by 1 person

  2. More to this than meets the eye…

    Liked by 2 people

  3. well done.. and I do think we were channeling each other 🙂 Yours much more complex than mine. You always write your layers so wonderfully so that the reader can pull differently– depending on where they are at the moment.

    Liked by 1 person

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