A collage of regretful experiences regarding inebriation that my disease of alcoholism/addiction has manifested over the years.
Table of Contents
- Indulge
- A Watery Swallow
- Hopping Broken Fences
- The Space Between Lines
- Cold Currents
- Dry Heaved Hate
- Beelzebub’s Best
- Pulsed Party Panic:
- Melbourne Memories
- Alive
Indulge
A slight sickly warmth from the stomach to the heart and a pulsing body twitching it's parts in fair turn. Unfocused vision beyond the ever focused mind, a fulfilled insatiable hunger beneath tingling skin.
A Watery Swallow
Pucker up: lean in quiet and slow to taste the cold kiss of this bottle. Breathe its dissipating contents and feel the empty embrace that cheap liquor promises your closed eyes and quivering hands. That's all I’ve ever been to you, a watery swallow of the same old ale. You hold me by my long slender neck and tip me back, choking down my life. Now with the final drop dripping down your slimy throat, I’m delivered to gravity's hands. You stand still, listening for the familiar clang of glass on tile: a validation of your existence.
Hopping Broken Fences
Awake Thy soul from its lifelong slumber; Arise to the mountain’s summit With psilocin’s gritty bite. Release Spores to release thy mind From this third dimension; Be still and flat with the world. Room to room; life to universe, Each changing light to change The globe around thine eyes. Walking the street now climbs Winter’s bare trees Towards heaven’s flat bed. Euphoric tones emit from the sphere, As time stretches Earth’s hours to days: A supernatural delay in daily duty that Long lives past life’s natural end.
The Space Between Lines
Crushed ten lifted through a five. Subtract one to feel more alive. We count and measure. We watch and listen. We guess and check. I second guess. An age only grows because it’ll stop. Wisdom’s only found near an end. Truth is only found at the end. A sniffle and postnasal pull. Focus forced to pass the time, It only ever extends the day to seem longer than before. And now I feel it; these words written without a deeper intent, they Just fill the space between lines and moments in time. Though empty they evolve, I never dare to revise past a point. This page holds no beauty but the unfolding of my mind. Why not copy, paste, save, and print? Why not borrow lines to create a masterpiece? Something of context I suppose. And though these thoughts play double and deeper meaning of life, I wonder if the real metaphor will be remembered. Goddamned extended metaphors, each word paints additional meanings.
Cold Currents
Comatose save conscious; Cognition crystalized in quiet conflict. Dry eyes reflecting red at blinking time- Drained tumblers and burnt cigarettes Scale the depth of these recurrent chapters. In vintage fashion, the vinyl breaks to repeat... Bass-heavy heart beats Pump snare snapped pleasure Through dissonant dance thrills And synth syncopated animation While NSAID prepared post-nasal Demons taste tonight (to) delight. Slip a squeak to Blown away distractions that Deplete idle temptations Into slow-dry dripped determination. Autumn's cold currents augment A tally in negative addition To the collection of empty cans and capsules Once poured out in hollow hope of Contentment, concentration, or completion. So I'll fist a few forties and shoulder life's shit: The Richter's ringing requires refuge, But my eyes, like stars, jump from their spheres In steam-punk imitated trepidation.each evening.
Dry Heaved Hate
Two minutes drew his heavy slumber After landing hard on the couch: The sting of tequila still on his tongue And the weight of tomorrow still on his shoulders. Deep breaths hold him under consciousness- His hand holds tightly to his last kiss Of a now empty bottle of liquor. You don't dream after drinking like this; Only a black moments falls our mind To open our eyes to a headache and thirst. But passed out cold, his shirt off and shoes on, Dawn's bright wake up call sounds silently To an empty bed that proved too far to reach. So with a thieving friends driving away drunk, His night passed to a father's gentle shake And bled to blind swings, dry heaved hate, and fear. There's no horror like holding your dying son, And with his mind bathed in spirits, His father's broke at the sight. IV dripped rehydration and exhausted sedation Sleep him the day in a hospital bed While his friends and family lay it awake.
Beelzebub’s Best
Beer bred doubt beneath bourbon-birthed breath: Behold the beaten boy behind Beelzebub's best. Fun from focalin focus, unfiltered of its fillers, Fixed and unphased; fifty feet from friends' family. Pseudo psychedelics sided with stacked stimulants- Such a sore insufflations sliding slow under swallows. Cold capillaries keep crushed and carded compulsion, Consuming canisters containing caffeine carbonation. Amphetamine alliterations after alcohol's affection, Actual attitudes apply apathetic and antisocial afterthought. Making my mystery might mistake for memory, Mighty mellow melodies moving mind's matrix To take tentative tally of temporary tinctures Toasted to tomorrow's timely tapped temptations. Ripped, red, roasted and reclined, relay radicals Run rapid Reeboks repelling off rough rubber tracks.
Pulsed Party Panic:
Strobed red and green over black lights; Glowing whites, stains, and the smokey air. Fire red embers pull to burn the already blazing room with electronica bass and stabbing heat AROUND THE WORLD!
Melbourne Memories
Rolling bass pumps the night to bounce in time with the pulse of this beating heart. Bottle cap gum chewed in futile attempt of relaxation, ten spectral spheres blur the room to black above the blue pyramid strobes and beyond. Comradery comes casual and spirits high as the liquid kind's traded for tender and tips. Spare me the bill and fill these limbs with music's dancing movements again; a speedy smile spelled out in spaced letters. Digital love stimulates the jumping sea of blinded bodies beneath the blaze of lasers, lights, and sound waves. The air intoxicating. Is this the release they need? Happiness is far from healing and its grace will taper by sunrise. So somber silence is broken by the shared desire to seem strong and the known gravity that nobody is. Sympathy's ears and eyes won't stem the tide so a steady gaze searches for comfort in the sad smile worn heavy with disbelief. The night will see us all to slumber, and friends will see them to safety. Let’s pick up the guitar to pick up the mood and let time carry us past this.
Alive
Marked on the calendar Arrangements made and set in stone- There's no rolling this one away. Every breath brings it that much closer. Each passing day a snapshot in The photo album marked 1990 through...? I'm flipping through the pages, Lately every picture looks exactly the same: A drunken smile and half gone bottle of hard liquor, But don't black out, the night's still young! (Or so I'm told) Though I sit here at 5:20pm, Rum on my breath, Pencil in my hand, Life on my mind, And the world on my shoulders. This house, this town, these friends: I'll never see again: Maine calls me out and Texas calls them in. I get a call on my cell, Yeah, I'm eighteen, It's ten at night, sure, I'll buy you cigarettes. So you wear him on your sleeve, She's in the upside-down daisy Hanging on my wall from The night she fell asleep in my Drunken arms; Smiles on both our faces, Tears in both our eyes. I chased down those opiates With a gulp of my mother's Desperate sobbing cries. She told me she doesn't deserve this. I deserve this. So I went out and You and I watched a few movies, And walked down to the Abandoned house. I held you close, Felt you breathing. I am alive. I am alive when I look into your eyes. When you hold me in return. When I drive home- Thirty minutes- From your house, Drunk out of my mind. And as I close this photo album, I know I'm alive.