Ode to Tea

by isabella mori

after four hours of sleep
and 16 hours of work
here comes pouring into the poet
a cup of tea.
tea!  tea!  tea!
drug that whitewaterrafts
into forgotten veins and drags
with it, drawing deep from the bottomless swirls
leftover bits and pieces of energy,
scraping fragments of strength off the walls
of this human’s caverns —
tea!  tea!  tea!
tea steals that hidden nest egg of lifeforce
and presents it on a silver plate
to the tired, delirious poet –
see tea reflected in sparkles from redshot eyes!
see it pouring, gushing beneath lids
that are leaden, burning, and yet!  still eager to leave
light in.  tea light.
the light that weaves romance from the fear of night,
the light that wraps death and despair in a velvet cloth.
tea.
tea!  tea!  tea!
hold those bones up that yearn to collapse!
keep those fingers moving that can’t wait to fall!
drive those lips that ceaselessly mumble no tones …
tea!
draw the last drop of blood … !

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2 thoughts on “Ode to Tea

  1. Pingback: tea, zen and the complexity of mental illness

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