Arbtirary thoughts on nearly everything from a modernist poet, structural mathematician and functional programmer.

Monday, November 19, 2007

A Full Glass and an Empty Bottle of Wine

This is a poem I wrote sometime last year, but I need to preface it.

I decided to post this poem this morning, while thinking of God, sin, and the kretek in my mouth. I suddenly noticed my own voice in the poem; I found a distinct voice that is shared in the other poems I've written recently. I may have even come to appreciate that voice. It's funny how God gives you amazing insights when you try just to focus on Him, and loving Him.

I've really fought to hide that voice in the voice of other authors throughout my "career" as a writer, until 7 or 8 months ago, when my inability to bring out my own voice, my own style, began to distress me. Well. I've found that voice, and I hope I can develop it in my future writings.

And now, a poem:

I just poured the last glass of wine
I’ll ever drink.
My bottle empty, my bank defunct,
I’m drinking quick and careless
Because I’m far too drunk
To realize just how dire this is.
To realize, just how empty it is.

But if you’re near, it’ll be the last glass
I’ll ever need. It’ll be the last glass
I ever drink.
And although I should be glad to be free from the prison
I find myself afraid as I drown in liquid crimson.

Despite it all, I can’t hold back
But it’s not will or power that I lack
It’s something else, something else entirely
An insatiable urge for this poison
Flavored so mildly

The sea
It ebbs and flows,
While the line marking the wine
Grows ever so low.
I watch with anxious eyes as the red tide slows
Tipping my head back to increase the flow.

But if you’re here, it’ll be the last glass
I’ll ever need.
Either way, it’ll be the last glass
I ever drink.
And although I know it contains the bitterness of death,
I can’t taste it while the sweetness still lingers on my breath.

Although I know to look for you
I can’t seem to see through
The blur and the whirl from the bottle of wine.
I sit here spinning, looking hopelessly
At the glass that I just swallowed so hastily.
Though I hear your voice, I can’t distinguish a syllabic expression.
My reply lacks logical progression
It’s astounding you understand me at all.
I’ll stand and walk to you,
Drink some water and talk to you,
Oh, God! Please catch me before I fall.

And if I listen, it was the last glass
I’d ever need.
I just hope it was the last glass
I ever drink.
Though I know I do it all for the pity,
I can’t help but feel proud, not even a tiny bit silly.

Though I know I rushed in headlong,
I swear to you, really, I did nothing wrong!
And there I go again, to the next further removed level
of that same exact feigned humility!
You’d think one day I’d return to reality!
But the wine I drink to return
Takes me one step farther,
And one closer to the urn.

O I wish; it was the last glass
I’d ever need.
I just wish; it was the last glass
I ever drink.
But I know in my wallet, I have enough for one more;
I just don’t know if I can make it to the store.

No comments:

Creative Commons License Cory Knapp.