Potion Of Verses Poem by Cash Onadele

I.
This potion you have poured in me is not effete, I am strong,
Neither does it make me antisocial but retentive, I speak it loud
I can sit here but travel very far with lucid verses, dancing with my mind,
They transfer, translate and transplant my soul, without borders.
II.
Afterthought never! But a supplement of jangled emotions, maybe,
Filled with devices, demanding deeper understanding of language,
You are the potent laced drink with imagination, plots, and diction ingredients,
Our own priestly druid, guard of the gateway to infinite linguistic expressions.
III.
You are a natural phenomenon, aplomb character, with pace and spirit,
Accentuating intelligence, you question originality and make satire of the wise,
With the abuse of conventions, breaking rules to make new rules of your own,
Employing clichés to win a debate point of triviality, at will.
IV.
You torture the truth out of untruth, boldly and effortlessly,
Curate deep human experiences for the world museum of hope,
You enchant our youth, and make the old evocative of their past,
You are poetry, plumb, potent and purposeful.
V.
Give me a cup of your raw potion, un-distilled, now I insist!
Though mazes it gives, but rather that than old repeating forms,
You are the current that moves my emotions through experience,
Drench me in pentameters, that I may be filled with life, living and love.
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