Detour
  

 

The sun is still up
as I leave the bar.
The warm, dry air
mixes with the drinks
spilling over my numbed senses
like red Kool-aid over a white sheet;
staining…numbing further.
The last, long rays of  the sun
cross over my mind
illuminating
all that I was trying to
forget.
The bar is too far behind me now
for me to go back to.
I don’t belong there, anyway.
All the old poets,
artists and dreamers
let their talents vanish
in that liquid cloud.
Not me.
Not me.


The dark of night
wraps up the remains of the day
in a tidy package…
A gift,
to be opened in the morning.
My senses ache
for the light to guide them,
for new memories to form
and bury the old ones
like so many dead dreams.
A neon detour
beckons me to stop
as the cool hand of night threatens
to awaken my feelings again.
The air is stale inside.
And even the dark is muted.
All the old drunks,
the would-be beauty queens and heroes
hide in these shadows.
Like me.
Like me.

 

 


Comments:
 
Moqui_Takoda   Moqui_Takoda wrote
on 6/22/2008 12:15:17 PM
you have done some nice parallel stanzaic work here: first two lines and last two lines of the stanzas are succinctly integrated and helps pull this poem into a unity. you also have done some nice inner formatting, perhaps on purpose, perhaps not, but inner formatting occurs in a poem which is well written, almost always and can be automatic because of the focused writing: you can combine the first two lines and last two lines of either stanza in almost any order and you will have a nice, powerhouse little statement all by itself. i know about this stuff. i have been there. ... red kool aid over a white sheet ... oh yeah, you know don't you ... nice work

Jazzcat
Poetry
Free Verse
writing Jazzcat
Bookmark and Share

You must log in to rate.
This has not been rated.

Synopsis
A bar-fly attempts to break his pattern.
© 2014 WritingRoom.com, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WRITING | POETRY WRITING | CREATIVE WRITING | WRITE A BOOK | WRITING CONTESTS | WRITING TIPS