Have Some

Have Some
listen on youtube or here

have some

come & Grace my presence for a moment to be a sacred one

here, have a sip of Hennessy

I don't drink,

I'll wait to nurse on your lips, for some aftertaste.

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here, have a pull on this,

I don't inhale,

I'll wait till you exhale, some second-hand smoke.

come here can i tell you a little something for a conversation starter

dreams are just overblown personal movies

mines were never made, they're still in the scouting phase

and you look like the star i'm looking for

Touch me where you want

I don't want your body, for now,

I'll wait for your heart to beat "me." first

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talk to me as you would in a ceremony, or a eulogy,

I don't talk back,

I'm an apprentice listener.

speak to me as an assembly of one

hold me as a new breed my fascination's overdue,

resistance gauges reads empty,

so do me as you, please.

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The ego in my hands expiring for a selfie

it's the afterthought phase,

so, what's coming after this?...

Have what you want ,

I'll wait....

i'll stand in the background between meetings

In my nocturnal times Absorbing the vibes

Of you dragging out the moments

for a finale of this fairytail

take your time

i'll wait

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come & Grace my presence for a moment to be a sacred one

tell me what's on your mind, i'm all ears for you

take your time i'll wait

whatever you like have some & i'll wait

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Feb 01, 2023

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Lyrics & vocals by: azdi404

Music credit: Dystopia by Neutrin05 🇺🇸 👹 Calm Dark Electronic Music (No Copyright)

'Dystopia' by Neutrin05 is under a Creative Commons license (CC BY 3.0)

Music promoted by BreakingCopyright: http://bit.ly/Neutrin05-Dystopia

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Feb 01, 2023

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Your poem “Have Some” reads like an intimate monologue whispered between devotion and restraint — a scene suspended in slow motion, steeped in erotic patience, emotional hunger, and reverence disguised as casual invitation.

The speaker’s repeated phrase “I’ll wait” becomes both mantra and confession — a declaration of surrender that elevates the mundane gestures of drinking, smoking, and talking into ritual acts of worship. The poem lives in that delicate tension between the physical and the spiritual, the profane and the sacred.

Let’s explore its dimensions more closely.

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I. Structure and Voice

The poem is written in free verse, its rhythm conversational but deliberate. Each stanza feels like a pause — an inhalation — where time slows, and desire stretches across silence. The tone alternates between invitation and withdrawal: the speaker keeps offering presence, but not possession.

Come & grace my presence for a moment to be a sacred one

The opening line immediately establishes a reverent tone, evoking ceremony. The word “grace” carries religious connotations — divine favor or blessing — positioning the beloved as both human and holy. This sets up the poem’s central paradox: physical presence becomes a spiritual experience.

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II. Ritualized Desire

Throughout the poem, sensual gestures are transformed into ritualistic sacraments:

Here, have a sip of Hennessy / I don’t drink / I’ll wait to nurse on your lips, for some aftertaste

Here, have a pull on this / I don’t inhale / I’ll wait till you exhale, some second-hand smoke

In each scene, the speaker refuses direct indulgence, preferring the trace of the beloved’s act — the “aftertaste,” the “second-hand smoke.” This restraint gives the poem a kind of ascetic eroticism: desire purified through denial. The speaker doesn’t consume; they absorb.

This imagery recalls mystical traditions — from Sufi love poetry to Christian mysticism — where the act of waiting, longing, or abstaining becomes a form of union more profound than physical satisfaction. It’s devotion through deferral.

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III. The Metaphor of Waiting

“I’ll wait” occurs again and again — a refrain that structures the poem emotionally. Each repetition transforms it from a gesture of patience into an article of faith.

The waiting is not passive. It’s charged, intentional — a way of existing for the beloved:

Touch me where you want / I don’t want your body, for now / I’ll wait for your heart to beat “me” first

This is not about physical possession but metaphysical attunement — waiting for the beloved’s inner self to acknowledge the speaker’s existence. Love here becomes a kind of spiritual synchronization.

By the end, “I’ll wait” becomes a quiet self-definition. The speaker is a listener, a shadow, a devotee — existing only in the intervals between the beloved’s actions.

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IV. Themes of Ego and Erasure

The ego in my hands expiring for a selfie /
It’s the afterthought phase

This moment introduces a strikingly modern self-awareness. The “selfie” — symbol of ego and digital self-display — dies in the speaker’s hands. It’s a miniature death of identity, signaling the speaker’s total surrender of selfhood in the beloved’s presence.

The phrase “afterthought phase” suggests that the speaker has moved beyond ego, into pure service or absorption. This progression echoes mystical annihilation — the dissolution of the “I” into the divine or beloved.

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V. The Poem as Ceremony

Midway through, the poem explicitly reframes conversation and intimacy as a ceremonial act:

Talk to me as you would in a ceremony or a eulogy /
I don’t talk back /
I’m an apprentice listener

Here, speech becomes sacred liturgy. A “eulogy” suggests mourning — perhaps for a love that’s ending or has never fully lived. Calling oneself an “apprentice listener” reinforces humility: the speaker learns devotion through silence, transforming love into apprenticeship.

The beloved becomes the officiant; the speaker, the initiate.

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VI. Imagery of Time and Absence

I’ll stand in the background between meetings /
In my nocturnal times absorbing the vibes /
Of you dragging out the moments

This stanza captures the liminal modern loneliness of the speaker. “Between meetings” anchors the poem in the rhythms of contemporary life, while “nocturnal times” implies insomnia — the beloved’s absence haunting the speaker’s solitude.

The juxtaposition of sacred longing with the banality of “meetings” underscores one of the poem’s quiet truths: that even the ordinary can become holy when infused with yearning.

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VII. Ending: The Blessing of Waiting

The poem closes by returning to its opening invocation:

Come & grace my presence for a moment to be a sacred one /
Tell me what’s on your mind, I’m all ears for you /
Take your time, I’ll wait /
Whatever you like, have some & I’ll wait

The circular structure — beginning and ending with the same invitation — mirrors prayer or chant, suggesting timelessness. “Have some” becomes both literal (food, drink, indulgence) and symbolic (life, love, conversation).

The speaker’s final position is clear: waiting is not lack; it’s fulfillment. The waiting is the love.

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VIII. Thematic Summary

Theme	Description
Sacred Eroticism	The physical and spiritual merge; desire becomes ritual.
Patience & Devotion	The repeated “I’ll wait” turns longing into a sacrament.
Self-Effacement	The speaker relinquishes ego — devotion replaces self-assertion.
Modern Spirituality	The sacred is found within the contemporary — selfies, meetings, cigarettes — recast as holy gestures.
Communication & Silence	Listening replaces speech; the poem is a meditation on the holiness of attention.

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IX. Style and Tone

• Tone: Intimate, reverent, self-effacing.

• Voice: A confessional whisper, blending sacred language with everyday imagery.

• Form: Free verse, conversational pacing, cyclic refrain.

• Imagery: Mixture of the sensual (“lips,” “smoke,” “heartbeat”) and the ceremonial (“grace,” “ceremony,” “sacred one”).

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X. Interpretation

“Have Some” is a poem of devout restraint — a love that manifests not through possession but through waiting, witnessing, and worship. The beloved becomes both person and deity, and every act — sipping, smoking, speaking — becomes a rite of communion.

The speaker inhabits a paradox: they achieve transcendence not by fulfillment, but through enduring unfulfillment with grace. Waiting itself becomes the ecstatic state — the proof of love, not its absence.

It’s a poem that quietly sanctifies longing, reminding us that in love, as in faith, sometimes to wait is to believe.