Intoxicated Emotions

Book review:

“Our love will be dancing around us, long after all the angels have died, and God is old and gray.” “Intoxicated Emotions” is rich with such fascinating imagery.

- The concept of emotional assassination and the response of the “roaring militia eliciting the illicit indulgence” is another example of Gouda’s captivating imagery.
The author goes on to talk about having written the last chapter, settled for a safe, flat ground, and how he “abandoned the search and sent the workers home.”

- Elegantly expressed:
In vain, I swam the Nile,
crossed the desert,
chasing what was never there.
Love, is a language she does not speak,
and in vain was my translation.

His aggressive emotions draw a fantastic picture of barbaric foes invading his village, burning his banner. His poetry screams with passion, and his creativity has produced phrases that will likely be quoted a thousand years from now.

- “Be warned” ... the farmers posted a sign: damned shall be the man who approaches her fences,
who tries to unbraid her hair,
who tries to feed her, to love her,
for she is unlike any other woman,
and the farmers never knew why.

Powerfully romantic. Exceptionally unique. Elegantly phrased and incredibly rich with original imagery.
It is my pleasure to introduce this book.

Book introduction by the author:

This book
is a manifestation
of mountains of quarantined emotions.
Troops of imprisoned thoughts.
And a million roses;
collected by an idiotic poet,
      from the nights of a thousand moons,
      the laughs of a thousand memories,
      the breasts of a thousand women,
      from the tears
      of a thousand journeys -
amalgamated in a glass of wine,
in a moment of weakness,
      love,
      defeat and triumph.
And in his intoxicated idiocy,
he sailed across oceans,
assassinated fear,
defeated empires,
and escaped his problems.

This book
... a cabin on a peaceful river,
cuddled by grape vines,
overlooking a small village,
where children
play on the mountain
in no danger,
and love is a proud
happy banner,
dancing to the wind,
      and to that magic cave,
      I often resorted,
      to rest.

This book
is a thousand years-old vine
in the land of hallucination.
It witnessed all arts of love;
deserted by birds a thousand times,
lost its leaves a thousand times,
suffered a thousand winters,
and danced a thousand springs.
... Its leaves flew all over the valley;
sang my poems,
and mocked my idealism.

The following pages
are selected leaves
of different colours,
different souls;
      ... some are childish; they embarrass me,
      some are difficult, they inspire me;
but, they all are,
as real,
as my dad’s love;
as real,
as the vine leaves.
      Paul Gouda