Darling

“The exhilarating ripple of her voice was a wild tonic in the rain.”
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby 

Fresh-mind-fresh-day
                  Fresh-mind-fresh-day

Never was a gentle and quiet word
spoken but so clearly heard

Innocent as the new day
echoing across a souls pain

Whispering she is vulnerable
that was the angelic guise so

Eloquently draped with a voice
surrendering I had no choice

Her tender call seducing me
in a moment she had all I’d be

It made me feel amazingly alive
She the moon and I the tide

Even now in this dreary day
tenderly I can hear her say

Darling, Darling

*

First published in Opinions Of Eye

The Possession of Jay Be

“I don’t want to repeat my innocence. I want the pleasure of losing it again.”
F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise 

victoria ann-marie
You weren’t supposed to be there gliding and playing

with the twirl and spin of music dancing and hiding

playfully dodging the inquisition of mind.


Beside the crazy love of fools I’m drinking and dreaming

pouring lasting shots of you in the spinning and flowing

gracefully shaking your skirt in the chill of eve.


I thought to measure long the soul of leaving and fawning

by shear force of the mystical wind forcing and holding

tenderly with gypsy delight you possesses me.

Self Induced Blindness

“Alcohol ruined me financially and morally, broke my heart and the hearts of too many others. Even though it did this to me and it almost killed me and I haven’t touched a drop of it in seventeen years, sometimes I wonder if I could get away with drinking some now. I totally subscribe to the notion that alcoholism is a mental illness because thinking like that is clearly insane.”
Craig Ferguson, American on Purpose: The Improbable Adventures of an Unlikely Patriot 

“It’s a great advantage not to drink among hard drinking people.”
F. Scott Fitzgerald,
The Great Gatsby

 
misunderstood-journey

And with a deep drink, the battle begins inside. The poison seeps through every fiber of his mind, blinding it with anger. The blindness is absolute, the thinking stops and in the blackness of lost souls he wrings the sanity from every moment. Ripping the last shreds of innocence from the hosts of his sinking life, the cup’s thrown, a gauntlet of challenge against imagined foes. He pounds the friends and family surrounding him and crushes them beneath his inflamed ignorance. The pain is not enough, hearts fall deep into the void of his addiction. His breath excretes his venom of choice. No love in that world, no understanding, no chance for any to live and be well. It is a suicide, a long slow suicide, that takes everyone down with him. Nothing left, nothing gained, lives wasted.