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Array
(
[sid] => 182677
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Cleaner Than Whiskey Showers
[time] => 2016-02-27 21:01:41
[hometext] => Being a drunk (poet) most of my life, I would enjoy your thoughts on a sober poem from me.
[bodytext] =>
Still dry, though cool sweet water
drenches wetter than any vodka night,
cleaner than whiskey showers,
more focused than a Hunt Master/'/s boast-
his spilled dreamy conquests in slurps through burps
of Meistered truth in sloppy grins of fetid Jaeger breath.
In sooth, twas near-death misery via boozy proof I learned;
took decade/'/s turns of doorknobs to dankness to just one more shot- “I/'/m Coming!”.
Then another amber conscript rises on the bar and dies, down my throat- out of sight!
(gifted from this new brother- bottle buddies for life tonight);
no mourning names- the sun burned away his blurry face from that unremembered place-
Indeed, in sooth, the price tag paid for truth
has scooped away what should have been another me this day-
rootless, me; life him her here there when what how it pooped the lie I drank, and how!
(Yes, yes, better now, of course….of course. I smile, yes? You see it, yes?),
but sweet God, the price I paid to gutter-drip my soul to learn the real deal;
my life/'/s single row; hoed, alone, and hard- no plow no horse- I spurned;
my drunken row of rocks and weeds- thirty-five years long,
fertilized (I realize) with hearts broken under plow- love given I didn/'/t earn.
But a straight row now! Yes, Siree! arrow-like like all the rest- unremarkable, fertile, straight and true,
(but HOW, without duress?), time aplenty now to chew on this purloined order.
SO..now I/'/ve joined, (Watch!) I chuckle at the correct moment, I step, ford, wade these even rows,
glass shards no worry to my toes, feet plopped carefree; here, no errant rock would dare pierce-
My, my, (though I comply!) ,this (forever?) torpid life is feathery fine but fierce.
[comments] => 5
[counter] => 284
[topic] => 61
[informant] => Invierno
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 0
[ratings] => 0
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => selfstruggles
)
Cleaner Than Whiskey Showers
Contributed by
Invierno
on
Saturday, 27th February 2016 @ 09:01:41 PM in AEST
Topic:
selfstruggles
|
Still dry, though cool sweet water
drenches wetter than any vodka night,
cleaner than whiskey showers,
more focused than a Hunt Master/'/s boast-
his spilled dreamy conquests in slurps through burps
of Meistered truth in sloppy grins of fetid Jaeger breath.
In sooth, twas near-death misery via boozy proof I learned;
took decade/'/s turns of doorknobs to dankness to just one more shot- “I/'/m Coming!”.
Then another amber conscript rises on the bar and dies, down my throat- out of sight!
(gifted from this new brother- bottle buddies for life tonight);
no mourning names- the sun burned away his blurry face from that unremembered place-
Indeed, in sooth, the price tag paid for truth
has scooped away what should have been another me this day-
rootless, me; life him her here there when what how it pooped the lie I drank, and how!
(Yes, yes, better now, of course….of course. I smile, yes? You see it, yes?),
but sweet God, the price I paid to gutter-drip my soul to learn the real deal;
my life/'/s single row; hoed, alone, and hard- no plow no horse- I spurned;
my drunken row of rocks and weeds- thirty-five years long,
fertilized (I realize) with hearts broken under plow- love given I didn/'/t earn.
But a straight row now! Yes, Siree! arrow-like like all the rest- unremarkable, fertile, straight and true,
(but HOW, without duress?), time aplenty now to chew on this purloined order.
SO..now I/'/ve joined, (Watch!) I chuckle at the correct moment, I step, ford, wade these even rows,
glass shards no worry to my toes, feet plopped carefree; here, no errant rock would dare pierce-
My, my, (though I comply!) ,this (forever?) torpid life is feathery fine but fierce.
Copyright ©
Invierno
... [
2016-02-27 21:01:41]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Cleaner Than Whiskey Showers
(User Rating: 1 )
by JamesStockdale on
Saturday, 27th February 2016 @ 09:50:46 PM AEST
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a Message)
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I think you wear it well. Great write. Awesome choice of words!
James |
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Re: Cleaner Than Whiskey Showers
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Sunday, 28th February 2016 @ 01:03:44 AM AEST
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a Message)
|
horse feathers, pink hair, gunk piled up in the
bathroom sink, shameless poetry soberly written
to wit, cobwebs where there is no spider
no longer crawling about in there/ they say you
could crudely do it any time on any day
write free handed with pencil long hand
loose in the middle of day/ next a big job
and coherent/ a thinking mans poet
at any time like loose cannon
painted lady fingers/ the whole caboose
Jiminy crickets lives in all of this
he doth he do
Inveirno you do not need to drink or smoke
or do any hallucinogen or opiate or even
something mild that will block your natural neurotransmitters / you see/ hear/ read/ learn
write well all by yourself -
anyone would say if they were a poet
but never fully understanding exactly why
or what for
if you can do it half way impaired you can do it ten times better in a natural state
just learn to move real slow or is it with
a calmness of mind
wife gave me this stupid fitbit for my 55
and damn if I don/'/t walk ten thousand plus steps
every darn day now, I walk at lunch at work, I walk in between moments of waiting
when ever / and I muse / single solitude
you always did. And you always will.
Peace! |
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Re: Cleaner Than Whiskey Showers
(User Rating: 1 )
by ming on
Sunday, 28th February 2016 @ 01:46:14 PM AEST
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a Message)
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This may very well be my fav of yours. /'/The price I paid to gutter-drip my soul/'/ best line ever! Love.
ming |
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Re: Cleaner Than Whiskey Showers
(User Rating: 1 )
by softerware on
Monday, 29th February 2016 @ 11:32:46 AM AEST
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a Message)
|
Written as an explorer, discovering an internal world. You write in purity here, with no illusions. The work is eloquent and honest. The sound of self trust echoes down the canyons of this entire journey.
My favorite line is --the price tag paid for truth has scooped away what should have been another me this day---. The fiercest battles we do are within ourselves. Each of us is compelled to untangle the past so long denied, and put wrongs to rest.
You have given yourself permission to love what yesterday holds. I believe you have found the key to changing the present.
softerware |
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Re: Cleaner Than Whiskey Showers
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Tuesday, 15th March 2016 @ 02:57:57 AM AEST
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a Message)
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// I really like it. Even though I cannot relate to being an alcoholic (except as a codependent) I felt the determination and the shaking the tale feather in the face of the past.
I, however, probably would have never been able to tell a drunk poem from a sober poem until you told me.
I see that you referred to lies. I wrote a drunk poem once and it actually was a truth serum for myself so I left it on here. Occasionally (rarely as of late) I would remind myself of it because I need to hear it at times.
Anywho, I/'/m babbling. Good stuff here, Mike.
Thanks,
Tim |
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