Image by Lothar Dieterich from Pixabay
I drank so much
my head's now sour,
I've tried coffee and a cold shower,
but nothing helps, nothing helps.
Yesterday were happy hours,
staggering from bars like swaying towers
stumbling as we devoured
snack packs of brainpower.
cider, beer and shots of rum,
three cheers and drinks for everyone
from dusk to rising sun.
We danced from bar to bar
ethyl-dreams where near is far,
each streetlight a shining star
illuminating a concrete bazaar.
I squinted through frosted panes
of beer-y goggles with wobbling frames,
a blurry face sternly proclaimed
"you're under arrest...
for being drunk in charge of a brain."
The last six weeks have been pretty dire for me, with the ogre of IRL stuff rearing its ugly pockmarked face to launch me into the bog of eternal stress...
Only 80's kids and full on memberberries will get that reference from Labyrinth.
So I've decided to challenge myself to write a poem a day for the next month in order to reawaken the creative muse and light a fuse under this writer's mind. I'm not going to limit myself to any style of poetry as I have in the past with my month of haiku challenge. Rather just let the muse take me and try to have fun with it. After all if you can't find ways to have fun in this world what is the point?
Might as well give in and drink yourself into oblivion which is what I attempted the night before I wrote the first half of this poem. Don't worry, the hangover has passed now and I've recovered enough brain cells to write the second half today š
āDrinking is an emotional thing. It joggles you out of the standardism of everyday life, out of everything being the same. It yanks you out of your body and your mind and throws you against the wall. I have the feeling that drinking is a form of suicide where youāre allowed to return to life and begin all over the next day. Itās like killing yourself, and then youāre reborn. I guess Iāve lived about ten or fifteen thousand lives now.ā
Quote ~ Charles Bukowski
Charles Bukowski said it best when he said drinking can be like rebirth... although I suspect he could handle his drink a lot better than I can š
But it is true that sometimes you have to blow off steam to clean the cobwebs out. Itās something of a paradox, like washing a shirt in a muddy river to wake up in the morning (or in my case two days later) to see it clean and blowing in the wind on the line outside.
Or perhaps this is just something we tell ourselves to make the hangover pain a little less.
Thanks for reading š»
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