A cheap whiskey for mixing Rinses the mind out after Rubbing all ten digits raw Ev'ry finger tip pulsing Against an inclined keyboard Keys shadow'd by a darkness But new channels have been hew'd Flowing liquid won't settle Above the eyes as it should Won't submerge all kindly in The night's consuming shadows Rounded keys too visible Pours forth an endless flow forth Pulse perhaps quickening now So ribs say but they're erring In judgment for too distanced From the heart of the matter A wetted throat knows better Flow, flow, slow punching fingers Rise rather than pouring forth Settling gently behind eyes Pressing pressing down into Shadows floating around dark Through a mind re-resisting Closing off channels although Seems that joints sinews fingers Stiff slow and the words won't come Swiftly as a pouring hand Topping off an empty glass Beckoning so beckoning Tasteless like water cheap As lapping from tap fingers Slowly unclench Falling bottle cap or upward Clink shoulders weary is it... stopping? Too long now to Think of words Clicking Slowing Flow And...
d’Verse ‘Open Link Night’
For this OLN, I am sharing a poem that I wrote almost exactly one year ago, as I was sitting in this same chair, drinking whiskey and writing poetry. I was trying to capture the experience as I was living through it. Free verse is not my strong suit, but I remain pleased with how this piece turned out.
Too many poets have tried to self-medicate on booze… (or wine or drugs or…) In the end, you always go further than you planned.
Don’t worry – I love whiskey, but I’m no alcoholic – I can go weeks or months without…
I mean, I usually don’t, but I can and do.
❤
David
An interesting stream of consciousness, David. I could picture this scene!
it happens more often than I’d like to admit, Merril 😉
Oops! 😏
That was smooth like a single malt. ❤️
I felt the flow of your words as lines came to you. This reads like a good stream of consciousness writing with a good whiskey at hand. Have a good weekend.
💕 Thanks, Grace 💕
This is really interesting – the idea of capturing that feeling of the whiskey taking effect through your actual writing. I think you did a great job! I shudder to imagine what I might write if I started drinking whiskey…
*amused*
I would never encourage you to drink, Ingrid, but that’s a funny thought!
Don’t worry, I’m done with that 🤣
This felt like a gradual depression of intent and awareness no doubt linked to the topped off glass of cheap whiskey neat.
🧡 exactly, Muri! 🧡
This sounds like the way Hemmingway must have written when he was deep into the booze… well done David… I could see your head hitting the keys!
I’ll bet he was a fun drunk 😉
Thanks, Dwight!
💛
David
You are welcome David!
On a side note: I really appreciate the fact that you have not let social media take away your personal touch in you responses.
Thank you,
Dwight
Likewise, Dwight ❤
:>)
kaykuala
Too long now to
Think of words
Clicking
Slowing
Flow
And…
Love the run-through of life’s blessings in your write, David! Good close. It is innovative!
Hank
💚 Hank, thanks! 💚
David, you and free verse are very compatible. Your in-the-moment stream of consciousness piece is raw, like cheap booze, it burns going down. Tennis with the net down, and you reveal things, personal things, because the parameters are flattened. I really enjoyed it.
❤ thank you so very much, Glenn ❤
All the stuff that makes one thirsty is here. For me it was the golden moment between the second and third drink that turned all that mush to glow. Soon after it turned to sloppier mush.
*chuckling* ~ too bad our poets’ pub can’t actually get together for a drink, Brendan!
❤
David
I’d be drinking sarsaparilla, but it would be a delight!