Passing Perpetual Cemeteries En Route To The Eventual Wedding
Like a salt seasoned
chain smoking
speakeasy sleuth:
A mind's eye Sam Spade -
too tired to care, sporting a shadowy
jungle growth of shipwrecked
castaway facial hair,
tongue lapped by the sailor's briny thirst,
I prematurely snuff out my cigarette,
pick up my trusty sidekick pen,
pocket traveling notebook and survey the room.
Suspicious sundry of circumstance and motive
outlining the alcohol enthralled milieu
As I write, a pale citrine curious
beam of clean lemon light
illuminates the paper thin margins;
empty space uniting each individual word;
second hand smoke upwreathes in
casual succession rising and dissipating,
rising and dissipating
like dusty noire barroom clockwork.
Wounded, wandering
day by day;
stranded, staggering
place to place,
suffering great distances;
the observer's remote outpost;
the stomach's timedelayed homesickness
My scattered attention span
buzzing in and out;
a myriad of mind numbing conversations,
like a hive sick pollen drunk bee
without flower to land,
stuck in the sinuous sticky-sweet
honeycomb of day to day deja vu.
Perdition's long cherished tradition
Tip-tip-tipplin' time away
Drinking with a purpose
Drinking to forget
Drinking to converse
Drinking with Vesuvian vengeance
in a Sudden hiccup rumbling
feeling the night go from bad to worse
still nursing the effects of last night's
life long hang over
Every night passing perpetual cemeteries en route to the eventual wedding
Every night another daughter given away
Every night reciting more drunken vows
The groom gives his life away and still retains his suit?
nightly nuptial regurgitation
I'm wedded to the floor
didnt we play this mad machines game already
Havent we sat in these exact broke back
rocking chairs before?
A year ago was it? Maybe a month?
Yesterday? Last night?
Perhaps in some vague speck of memory
belonging to a distant life.
Who can ever remember
I myself can vaguely recall
Staggering on and in my moist riverbed shoes
After sinking my feet during a deep session
of drunken stream-side meditation,
Off to the bar in search of some special native earthling
someone one earth especially naïve enough to to take me home
yaw yaw yaw to and fro
yawn yawn yawn further
away my attention goes
feign formal feign normal
waning conversations
blanking stares
Licking cocktail lips
flashing bedpost eyelashes
quickly outrunning my own pace
Tell me, Are you the wobbling
turveying mirror talking in my dreams?
Is this the line for fun house admittance?
Are you young and trusting?
Are you willing and waiting to be broken?
Say, Who's invading the moon at this hour?
Quick, Someone should wake and warn Buzz Aldrin!
Oh close the night shade - I'm bottomed out,
everyone can see straight through the
burgundy stained porthole of my submerged mouth.
Ahoy! My wine glass remains stubborn,
also hard of hearing,
Its tongue wont stop gnawing and lashing my ear.
Ersatz sense of tranquility
artificial mind alteration
false reassurances offered by
a superfluous flow of
superficial nerve stupor
Transient ghosts of self
fleeting like so many opaque puffs of smoke.
Coming down now, in need of a fix:
the female touch is a drug!
No high like the liberating rush induced by the flesh!
Frustrations of a withdrawn heart;
addiction leading my alcohol fueled pursuit,
Flipping countless cards in search of the perfect mental match:
Kindred wildness,
a fellow turbulent weather lover,
an untamed yet to be named sheer black sheep spirit,
Someone with a shared reckless reverence for life,
though still reverential enough to enjoy
the intimacy of storm-bound summer nights.
I don't want to be bothered by another bored android!
I refuse to contend with a black berry for your attention!
I want to feel face to face affection!
No online or cell phone connections!
I don't care about designer shoes!
I won't sit through another mindless sappy spew
of box office radio branded love!
I don't want another suburban girl
who sits with her suburban friends
thinking acting talking and dressing
all in the same overpriced fashion.
I want a barefoot flower child for my bride!
With an Authentic tan, true daughter of the sun!
Free flowing honey dirt locks or
hair the color of roasted coffee,
sweet warm melt chocolate pools for her eyes
or an iris outshining clear bright azure skies,
A smile like a sharp sexy knife
that could very well kill me!
Voice of feathers and wine
to tickle the torment from body and mind,
Laughter like lightning carving lightfilled paths in an overcast sky,
Mind that strikes like a match in the dark,
igniting the torch song of summer,
presence of starlight to fuel me on powerless nights,
quick draw pistol wit to send my heart off
running marathon distances.
Body of substance, all-naturale
Flavor and texture of almond and cherry
fleshsoft sweet manna
thigh's tender firm nourishment.
With the intense brevity of a cloudburst
or sudden impact of a car crash,
I empty the summer's furtive
all night flask,
counting up drunkenly grasped
fragments of a shattered hourglass,
my tremulous palm, a scarred and bloody
tiger's paw.
Still I shall go on,
transgressing the edges of earth,
kicking up rocks and dust,
leaving a trail of cherry pits in my wake,
barefooted over every harsh mile of terrain,
braving the heart's lonesome via dolorosa,
facing fear fatigue hunger and insomnia,
standing strong in the teeth of murderous weather,
enduring the worst element's of loves lifelong gauntlet,
To reach you in time, (whoever/where-ever)
there is no distance I will not travel,
no flag, fortune or land
Would I not surrender,
Now lady luck,
I ask for you to please,
come and meet me halfway.
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
Added by Poetry Lover
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