Sunday, April 5, 2009


' love '

written or spoken it's love

inaudible undertones
inside alcoholic eyes
reciting every silence
the sorrows soliloquize

the addictive harmonies
of such unquenchable thirsts .
resonating with heartbeats *
fill up the empty glasses

a halcyon moment burns
as a darkness drinks the dusk
one fire dowses another
till the night's awash with dawn

written or spoken it's love ..


[ED-the different amplitudes-of an unquenchable thirst
-that resonance of heartbeats *-stanza 2 -1st 3 lines
/ last line-just love]


  1. This rings with such sad sounds.

    Well done.

  2. WOW! This is amazing Zoya. Loved reading this. Sad but so beautifully expressed. Hugs, G

  3. the sounds of an artistic soul and unrequited love .. am I right?

  4. zoya--
    your interior life is so profound.
    thank you for the window...

    You are appreciated, honored and little-by-little, known!

  5. your poem spoke most powerfully to me, reminding me of a long past relationship with an alcoholic. The first verse especially captured the experience for me.

  6. Nicely put, Zoya. I can identify with this.

    Thanks for the welcome back too.

  7. the lamont award -the academy of american poets guggenheim
    & national endowment for the arts fellowships- recipient- marvin bell-
    has an opinion-'autobiography rots'-

    now that is just an opinion after all..& that's it!

    but poems are they always autobiographical? or should they be_

    what if tomorrow i were to write about the victim of a rape and it's perpetrator_
    wonder what role would be assigned to me!_

    .am surely obliged to beth p for her warm,friendly & kind remarks but i only hope "little-by-little, known!"_
    does not include being an 'alcoholic!'-which incidentally i am not,by a long shot!{no not even an ex alcoholic!}
    [ps: really hope someday i become worthy enough to write an autobiography!so pray for me please!]

  8. Hi Zoya, I don't know about your experiences but you must have been close to some of this to write so knowingly.
    In my younger days I would drink until WE ran out of booze or everyone was asleep or had split. I still remember some of those nights. None was the same (hardly). All done for no purpose except that it was doing something we shouldn't. And we weren't alcoholics, probably were like today's binge drinkers.

  9. soliloquize is a great word!! loves lament here..

  10. The music and magic of this imagery is exciting. Beautiful.

  11. Love this. Its sad but still I love this one.

  12. Powerful and mystical, too. I love 'as a darkness drinks the dust'

  13. enjoyed reading :)

  14. Wonderfully expressed: "a halcyon moment burns
    as a darkness drinks the dusk
    one fire dowses another
    till the night's awash with dawn"

    I enjoyed your poem, very much.

  15. That was like a one night stand. Lovely

  16. .. don't know why u find it to be "like a one night stand" tammy ,for i was merely thinking that the love of the mortals seems like a burnt out halcyon moment while the never ending love story of night & day goes on..

  17. Really liked the way you pulled it in with the last stanza..expressive to the max!

  18. Booze and love ... not a winning combination, but your poem is. I always enjoy reading you, and don't care if it's personal or not. It takes great talent to put feelings and images behind words -- so much so, that it touches the very heart and soul of the reader.

    I write about my life, and the lives of those around me --- experiences is a good teacher for many poets. But one must never forget about the imagination. A good writer and/or poet can write beautiful abstract poems by wetting their pens in the imagination. I think both avenues of creativity is wonderful!

    I often wonder if poets write just for other poets? I don't, but I like it when other poets can relate to something I write, as 80% or my writing is from personal experiences.

  19. Powerful Zoya! I can see the eyes 'reciting every silence/ the sorrows soliloquize' (great lines!) The last stanza is amazing! And the opening/ closing: 'Written or spoken it's love'. -- Love? The unquenchable thirst? Could addiction be unrecognized spiritual hunger? Or is love here, in the eyes of the beholder, seeing, writing or speaking?