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T R I N K A L I C I O U S

Submitted by Esker on Thu, 2012-02-16 22:29

"Fuck it! be frank!!" Meri stood five eight
filling my doorframe
"Sure Deth" (she fucking hated that fore
shortened mention, reminded her of her
father whom fucked off politely when she
was four..I'd heard the story over many
a bottle of jack and black cherry cola)

Merideth
your reminding me of marybeth
save the gloom and doom
as you savour your exotic rage
that seeps down walls and
fills my rooms

and how it is your bathtub
tears are melting in the
saline brine while our
television notes the times
and the mirror gladly lies
for you

Your life is not the hallowed
ground that cursed together
both we found the endings
of the storyline and all
the wonderful and fine
disturbing treasures of
the lair your sweet
dark history then and there

Threw her bottle at the screen
just through the kitchen
and it bounced off and
broke
"Metal Merideth!, tired of
the polyester ripping all
the time" personally I hated
the way the wind blew through
the shotgun house making
a sound like a sigh

She didnt say anything but kicked
off her cowboy boots and came
to sit on my lap her legs
draped across the wreck of
couch, am arm about me
scripted in her ink Those glacial
blue eyes beneath the dark arch
brows moody and seeped with
sad history

"Shannon you sad?" and I was
only I was sad I wasnt sleeping
in this heat my little cheap assed
fan only blowing hot air like pages
off a desk
"Its all desert baby and you know
your my oasis..damn right I'm
sad. I'm fucking sad about all
this disturbing goddamn Friday"

she snuggled closer and closed
her eyes..I could smell my shampoo
she loved from our three piece
bathroom, the heat of sun on
her skin from driving all day
but she always came back
and always with more questions

"that's not what I mean Shannon,
I mean sad sad..like when I
rescued you like a junk yard dog
Like when you were happy for
a bit..dont I make you happy
anymore Arent you happy with
all this"

and happiness like lost bliss
the mirage of doubts and fears
that trickle like sweat
and taste like sands
the wandering world
of the lost and found
the sky thats open full
of stars and bound
with an ache like a taste
that abides with pain
a mood that sweeps
like the ghosts of rain

Editing stage: 
Editing - rough draft

Comments

Esker

Thu, 2012-02-16 22:54

Esker's picture

characters are based on life characters
poem and short story combo
shimmery peoples
haunted and sad
guarding their loves and lives
like ruin oases

author comment

weirdelf

Fri, 2012-02-17 01:34

weirdelf's picture
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check out Wesleys "Story telling in poetry" workshop. I have learned a lot from it without even participating.

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

Esker

Fri, 2012-02-17 08:04

Esker's picture

frustrating at times....
no beginning hardly at times (or one that the reader or author would
want for changing)
No endings...or open ended cases
like parental issues..character issues
this is like some note on the ground wall or desk
some random clip rolled off the keyboard

a true work in process
It does not have a climax
and the resolution is in the air

Thank You

author comment

Esker

Fri, 2012-02-17 08:16

Esker's picture

They were hurting spiritually so when dawn found them
with her warm touch through the grimy windows
She found her fathers old bible and they read some
psalms finding strength to greet the day and make it
through for another hour! hmmm one ending but
there could be more..They most likely would be
hung over..where do they work?? are they on the
gov Dole? nationality? what of the broken bottle
glistening on the kitchen floor? Yes I have questions
always about works...shall see Editing may be
something to do about this indeed!

author comment

Esker

Fri, 2012-02-17 23:17

Esker's picture

"Merideth" from my life was angry
a life full of lives lived
and her laugh was rare but sweet
quiet when she wasnt high or drinking
tall with long dark hair She was a
dream swaying in the heat
the old dirt streets

Shannon is and was I
able to take the vibes from the all
I walked barefoot everywhere
played Kitty Wells with a speaker
stuck through the window
and put a bear skull on my
tall television antennae when
and before it was all digital
cable..that spooked many

I didnt critisize them but the
system..and If I did critisize I
did something about it..not just
go on on a soapbox..I did
without politically and was not
well liked

so everyone would drop by
and talk to me about things
their burden sharing so to speak
and thus I kept up with all
the commanlity of existance
I was human and still am
I havent given that up for
bitterness like they had

all doing well now
including I these days
My old bayonet I did have
for everything
opening cans and breaking
apart skids for work material
repair cutting and making
things about the small
village etc

sadness and beauty
I remember that well
how they all were like fallen
angels really
and the storms coming in
off the big lakes
the pines ashore and
rock and tamarack
forests

memories
Im still there in dreams
still feel all those years
like yesterday
suprised I keep them in my
mind
suprised the power of
the dreams sometimes
keeps me in check

author comment
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