I.
I should have never opened the bottle.
Such a great year, a perfect bouquet,
you filled my head and heart with splendor.
I drank you down so quickly, feeling
my pulse quicken, my world transform.
You possessed me, even as I consumed you.
Until now, when I pour the last glass, full.
I look at the shape of the glass,
knowing it will soon be empty. Hold it
up to the light. Note how the imperfections
make this glass. This glass -- like no other --
holds the spirits perfectly. Allowing
the light to shimmer, display the wine's
color, providing me with visions of possibility.
I know I will drink you down and you
will be gone.
II.
I know you will be gone.
I know I will be alone and you
will never forgive me. I could keep
the empty bottle, the wine glass,
all the detrius of memory, but
I would never have you again.
I look at this hand blown glass,
so strong and perfect in one direction;
so fragile, so ready to break, should I
strike it on the side or grasp too strongly.
The broken shards piercing my skin. The blood
dripping like drops of wine, staining,
slipping away, evaporating, never being
touched by lips or rolled across the tongue.
This last glass, undrunk, grows stale.
I know you and as much as I love you
I know I can't keep you forever.
I lift your form to my lips, let your fires
roll down my throat.
III.
I always can see the end. The moment
when the blurry vision of the bottom
appears and I set the bottle down.
One last glass, still, captured -- untasted.
The bits of grape settling, the pure
color in you transforming the light
passing through. I look around
the room -- empty. Me -- empty.
My bones too sharp against my skin.
Hands -- clumsy, knuckled, palms up -- empty.
I wait, feeling each second being born,
dying to make way for the next.
I read the label on the bottle -- history,
dates to be memorized -- immortalized.
It is only a matter of time. I can't
stop the sand from slipping away. I can't
stop myself from pouring the last glass.
God! You tasted like fire, blossoming roses.
Then --
You are
Gone
12/13/05
Alexandria, VA
11:10 A.M.
Author notes
I spent six years in twelve step programs dealing with my addictions then therapy to overcome a High Anxiety Disorder. There is light at the end of the tunnel.
Written December 13th, 2005
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What did you think
Comments
1 - 54 of 54
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I love this poem, although it seems to address two parallel issues, at least. From the perspective of alcohol addiction, you are 100% correct. However from the perspective of relationship, I see no reason why the character (you?) would not be forgiven. But forgiveness issues aside, this is a tremendously insightful and clever composition.
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I was thinking back to my days of co-dependency and the power of addiction. This all came to me in a rush. This is one where the poem truly wrote the poet. Later, I discovered, by people telling me, how much this was reflective of all addiction. The core of this is being strong and fragile at the same time. To often it is the case in the way we be in this universe.
Peace & Love,
Tom B.
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I dont think... i've come across such a powerful piece in long, long time. It grasped me gently, then enclosed around me- held me close... didn't take too long for the repressed to burst through as i was reading...
"I always can see the end. The moment
when the blurry vision of the bottom
appears and I set the bottle down.
One last glass, still, captured -- untasted.
The bits of grape settling, the pure
color in you transforming the light
passing through. I look around
the room -- empty. Me -- empty.
My bones too sharp against my skin.
Hands -- clumsy, knuckled, palms up -- empty.
I wait, feeling each second being born,
dying to make way for the next.
I read the label on the bottle -- history,
dates to be memorized -- immortalized."
Fragmented, reconstructed, then polished. These lines are the strength that blew my mind.
well penned, well versed.... very well done. -T
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We -- who burn with black holes, mouths that never close, -- must first learn how to become whole, grounded in something other than need. Else we are always empty.
Thank you for finding so much in the simple language of my poem. One of the great gifts an artist can receive is to know he has touched someone.
Love,
Tom B.
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I hold addiction theme poetry to a high standard, because of my own personal experiences and because of how overused and poorly executed a lot of that kind of poetry I find, but this is fantastic, like Ears said, I'd have to copy the whole damn poem to show my favorite parts.....really powerful, strong work, thanks for sharing this and congrats on sobriety !
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It took years for me to get the imagery I wanted. It came to me while seated upon the pew. Fits. Then it wrote itself. or wrote me,however you want to put it. I was/still am ACOA, CODA but in charge of me instead of the other way around. I took care of a High Anxiety Disorder and took ownership of my life. I am always at choice and so far chosing wisely. Thanks for the kudos.
Peace,
Tom B.
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damn..that was P O W E R F U L!
I'd have to write out the whole poem to write my
favorite lines!
one hell of a tunnel addiction is huh.......I hear ya!
WAY TO ROAR out of their!
FIRES, FIRES, FIRES leak from your pen the pain
and brutal truths of addiction...this is a poem
that many will understand.
Way to write...definitely FEARLESSS and BOLD!
ears/Seattle
WE SALUTE YOU
Gluttons for Punishment
are powerful souls!
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A good response, comment, review, critique is as much an art form as the poem itself. I appreciate those who make the effort to give back what they have received.
Yes, this is about addiction. It started with me wanting to express the power of an addictive relationship with a woman. It has shown me that it reached far past that in its grounding in the truth. Part of learning how to get where your going is being able to see with clarity where you are. NO EXCUSES.
(the only difference between a reason and an excuse: A reason is what you can sell as an explanation for why you do not have any responsibility for event you participated in and are therefore not to blame; an excuse is just a story that makes obvious how much you are trying to avoid taking the blame. They are both forms of bullshit. When we are a function of our word and operating with integrity, we acknowledge error as an event and are only concerned with what need be done to allow us to keep our word or if that time is past to take responsibility and clean up for any messes we have created. Like I used to tell teenagers I worked with, "Eff up.
Clean up! then I know I can trust you." )
Thanks for seeing the honesty in this. Honesty is not the truth. it is as unbiased a reflection of the experience of the truth a person can give you. Just as the best thing a friend can be is a clear reflection for you to see yourself in. Be wise in picking your friends for their every bias distorts the mirror. Mistaking acquaintances for friends can lead to a life inside a fun house.
This poem, I can see from my response, is a deep expression of how I have earned where I am on my path. Thank you for honoring that.
Peace & Love,
Tom B.
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WOW...I thought I'd return the favor of so many compliments on my writing...little did I know this poem would be the one I'd read first. If only you knew the irony of that!!!! This is an incredible piece...there is so much to love about it. I love the way you refer to the bottle of wine as if it is a woman, with all of her complexities, that you are in love with. I love the way you build momentium all the way down to the last words. I could feel your desperation and sorrowful regret and also your weakness for temptation. I love the line..."you tasted like fire, blossoming roses, then you are gone." Such a final statement, a cold slap or door slamming in your face ending....at least that's how it felt to me. I love the way this piece fell from my lips as I read it and rolled off of my tongue. It was a strong poem about love and the highs and lows of love, the pain of love. The "I can't get enough of you" love was personal to me as I also am in recovery from life and my addictive behaviors. I have a Boarderline personality disorder that is well under control in my life today, because of hard work and brutal honesty with myself about myself. With that being said, I felt an all-to-famailarness as I was reading here...replace the bottle with any number of other things for me and I could have been the one telling this story.
Bottom line for me is I loved this piece. Your talent for perfect word arrangement glares from the pages here.
Shelly
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A little confession, a little history, often the same thing:
I spent a good chunk of my life with a High Anxiety Disorder. It was particularly hard to deal with, in part because until around the mid-eighties the psychiatric profession would not admit that men could suffer from anxiety. I was also highly co-dependent. I spent six years in Adult Children of Alcoholics and Co-dependents A. I was a 12 step junkie for awhile. it provided the support I needed and finally led me to Bio-energetic therapy, a European form of therapy. I learned to trust myself and overcome my trust mistrust issues and finally began to live in a world where I wasn't waiting to get screwed.
This poem is about co-dependence. I have found it is about far more than I realized when I wrote it. It appears from the reports that have come in to be about addiction in general. The high, the thrill, the crash and burn. How we, the addicted live for it.
You are right. The answer requires hard work and constant vigilance. Freedom is choice and responsible living requires learning to make healthy ones. After every slip, trip or fall, not quitting. But, getting up, dusting ones self off (swearing a bit) and re-choosing the healthy path.
Love, Tom B.
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tHIS IS AN OUTSTANDING PIECE OF ART.
My mother had a drink problem, so this is an emotive write, the imagry and craftsmanship are utterly brilliant
bravo tom, you have outshone yourself
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This poem was written about my co-dependent behaviors. It took a lot of work for me to get past them. I realized from people's responses and comments that it was truly a poem about addiction. I hope for your sake you came to peace with this part of your history.
Love, Tom B.
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Alcohol is a powerful beast & she has wrecked my life for nearly fifteen years. This poem left my mouth dry & my breath coming in heaves. It's frightening to experience the same emotional roller coaster through someone else's eyes while still being calming & refreshing to know that at least I am not alone. I have dropped both my habits (I was married to man that plied me with dope because it was easier than honesty) only recently and I feel healthier than I ever have before.
Congratulations on your sobriety and best of luck in all your ventures!
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I am honored by your review. All addiction creates the roller coaster and perhaps it is not being able to trust the good sense of your own body and mind to know what is true. Clarity and veracity become gifts and being someone who is their word a statement of health. I have learned that I am the only one who can be responsible for his life and so I know how to be alone, after years of being lonely. Now I am working on learning how to be in touch with my feelings and work in concert with others. Life is a gift that I am learning to unwrap. Thanks again.
Peace & Light,
Tom B.
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I thought this felt too real. The strength we all have deep inside of us is hard to find at times. I am glad you found your strength to do what was right for you. I felt the emotion strongly within this. It felt as if you were living it as I read it. Your realistic imagery is a living experience of conquering oneself.
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I suffered from a High Anxiety Disorder for forty years that makes panic attacks child's play. I was incredibly co-dependent and watched it destroy my relationship with a woman I loved deeply and was married to for eight years. So it is based on very real experience. I found a way out. Hard work, six years in ACOA, a twelve step program, a mighty spiritual journey and a great therapist and hard work. What you felt was real. This is a choice and it is a dellusion to thing you can just choose out anytime you decide to. Addiction in any form is a journey through your soul before you find the door out.
Love, Tom B.
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Addiction... to anything is such a dangerous place to be.. it strips us of who we are...and makes us believe we cannot stand without the crutch..
I like how this manages to capture more than one angle of that, the addiction to love, to a person, mixed with the more solid example of the wine..
and I especially like the way you treated the details of the glass and allowed it to work as a central focus..
it picks up the theme, and places the fragility of things out front.
like fire and then nothing.... so much fits there..
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You have read deeply into this poem, I can only thank you for that. I was incredibly co-dependent in my first marriage and in my life before that. I have done the work to grow and move on.
We are fragile when we are needy. Most people don't see how abraded and tender junkies are. This is a song to a time I never wish to return to. If it lifts someone up and helps them move on, I have been more than a little repaid.
We are not hopless. But, when in the midst of our need, we feel hoplessly entrenched in our behavior.
Thanks again for taking the time to see all the sides of this story, for being astute enough to see the way the structure and images were used to bring forward my vision. A close reading is always a gift. A rich comment a blessing.
Love, Tom B.
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it is a funny thing, i am an addict but i hate alcohol and all that it represents. i guess because i grew up with a very abusive, alcoholic step-father. htis write represents the process very well. congratulations on your sobriety. may it always last. viyanna rosemarie
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Your honesty is amazing , I must say i am proud of anyone who can beat additions .
I myself have.
Now i still live with them but not my own is 18 yrs too long ?
Great job and yes you should write a book!
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I never knew what it was that was destroying my relationship. When it ended after eight years of marriage and living together and yes there is a poem about it, I spent ten years trying to fix my half of the tango so I could mindfuly and honorably get back into a relationship. Adult Children of Alcholics was part of the road. I see you got your test of strength and didn't flunk. We are only weak when we feel we must give our strength away or let someone else judge who we are. There is nothing you can't accomplish in your own life when you put your mind to it.
The book, it should happen. But time will tell. Love, Tom B.
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BEAUTIFUL...
very rich in allegory, but then I cheated and you already explained the piece to me
oh well... still damn well written and whether about women or relationships or anything else that you were attracted to that might have been bad for you, the point is very clearly and BEAUTIFULLY illustrated! the details that were focused on, the descriptions the metaphors... all masterful!
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This is a metaphor for a metaphor for a feeling about what it is like to be addicted to . . . I know what mine is and the poem was about it, but it speaks to everyone with any feeling of addiction. HpWICKEDangel says in the last set I caught the feeling of the emptiness, which I since have learned is my creative source and not to be feared, but tried to erase for years. This is one of those poems that speaks loud and says far more than I realized when I wrote it. Probably as close as I can get to describing great.
Love, Tom B.
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I) about the addiction of the drink. a very powerful point.
II) very powerful again. not knowing when to let go and when you should move on.
III) WOW!!! you captured the thing we most fear....emptiness. being alone and then gone.
Well done my friend. This started to bring tears to my eyes. knowing that we all have our demons to fight but putting it into words with such clarity. *Bravo, bravo* keep up the muse.
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Serenity pray...12-steps...$-7 are the hardest to do! I understand your pain, believe me. Good write. ~Sie
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There are lifetimes in this poem. I was reviewing my co-dependant past when the image came to me. The rest just wrote itself. Turns out it speaks to the addictive side of many people. Most of life is about choice. There are some I have learned not to make, others that I have taken out of my life. I am still growing, healing, learning how to act like a healthy man. Thanks for the read. Love, Tom B.
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This was just to show you. I am not sure why. Also I figured you would understand and enjoy it at the same time. Maybe so you could see that you are not alone. We never seem to be able to hear enough that we are not alone. It is the nature of a user to create lonliness at the drop of a hat. Love, Tom B.
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this is a powerful write
thank you for llinking me to it.
amazing
firequeen -
Thank you for all your high praise. This is a poem written about my life back when I was co-dependent and living with a High Anxiety Disorder. I am glad it captured so much for you. Love, Tom B.
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Exquisite
"You possessed me, even as I consumed you." Stunningly beautiful. A wonderful metaphor here, with a gourmet's touch. The poetry is as fluid as the wine being poured from the bottle. Best wishes in the comp and I must bookmark this to enjoy again at my leisure. -
Thank you dimitri for all of your kind words. Glad you enjoyed. Tom B.
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Thanks for the honesty of your review and personal insights. I know all to well of what you speak. There are so many people in this life who are so self centered, afraid and just plain selfish who will use who ever is convienient. Glad you have found good people. Thanks again for your kind review. Love, Tom B.
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Superb
This poem is absolutely amazing. You have shown extremely well the difficulty involved under the circumstances. Your ability, no sorry, your talent at wording emotions and feelings in this piece of writing is exquisite. I connect to this poem on so many levels as well, for I too hav, and in some cases, still have an addictive personailty.
It was an amazing piece of writing, thank you for sharing.
Dimitri -
i loved this poem,
it held so many meanings for me.
the bottle for me represented lonliness
and all the shallow relationships that seem
to take shape out of no where and the power
they can have over us.
its not easy being alone in a big city
and without support.
i go in and out of these feelings
and they are very powerful.
they can make us do things that we
regret.
like not listening to our instincts.
as a women i know i am blessed with a 6th sence
i should use this more often than not.
its so hard when you want love
and you want to feel like you can trust.
i have realized that most men just
want a pretty girl for sex.
that is a really tough pill to swallow.
thank you for this amazing write.
candy -
this is such an interesting piece although to my re-collection i have not been addicted to n e thing i most the time use alcohol to escape my problems so i can see exactly where this poem is coming from i think this was really well written so keep up the good work j
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Truthfully, I used alcohol to be a metaphor for my co-dependency. The responses I have recieved makes me all to aware of the fact that this is a poem about addiction, whatever form it takes. Thanks for your heartfelt review. Tom B.
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It's amazing how hard that hit me... I'm a recovering alcoholic and I know that feeling of emptiness all too well. But I've come to realize that the numbness of the alcohol only lasts but for a little while. Then the numbness goes away, and the pain returns only worse. Very good piece!
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I was suprised at first by the strength of your reaction. Humbled, really. I forget how this poem touches people. I guess I am not comfortable with this period of my life. So, while I wrote it after receiving the image while sitting on the porcelin pew, I, still, am uncomfortable with how well this piece speaks to my life. We never forget how. I just choose not to. Love,Tom B.
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i dont know what to say to this... its amazing and im speechless, and wonderful poem! just wow... thanks for entering!
Abused
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Oh wow oh wow oh wow Tom, you always know just the perfect poem to direct me to - so that I can relate and hopefully learn. This poem was REAL, the loss was REAL, I could relate to a point where it is scary. You are right - I am his drug. You know the feeling all too well it seems
Thank you for this
Rohina
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I think perhaps that living and being require a few bruises and may be a couple of scars, just so we wake up enough to value what we really have.
My best friend has cancer. He had caught it in its early stages. We were talking about his different treatment options. Then we realized that what we were really talking about is the quality of life. Liveing is everything. Really living. Awake and aware. This must not be diminished. No matter how short the span to be really alive on must be fully immersed in life. We both admit we are still learning how. I guess this is the difference. We know: Life counts. This is not a dress rehearsal. Love Tom B. -
get published already, will ya? :)
I'm so glad that you shared this with me. This is a huge metaphor, and I can read into it perfectly. I myself had the same addiction (among others), falling in love. Too many men that I saw possibility in, too many chances I had taken and too many ridiculous breakups to follow. You know that saying that men give love for sex and women give sex for love, well that was me. The phrase that caught my utter attention was:
I look at the shape of the glass,
knowing it will soon be empty. Hold it
up to the light. Note how the imperfections
make this glass. This glass -- like no other --
holds the spirits perfectly. Allowing
the light to shimmer, display the wine's
color, providing me with visions of possibility.
I know I will drink you down and you
will be gone.
So true. You are a blessed being, and I am grateful to have ever been able to "speak" with you. You speak my language, as many others don't. I am happy that you have found the blessings in your life, and hope for more and more into your future. Much love, Rainy -
LadyUnique -- This poem is a metaphor for me of my co-dependent relationships. I attended 12-step programs for about six years, when I found I suffered from H.A.D.
After research to find the right therapy and hard work in something called Bio-energetics, I can still suffer from anxiety, but I have a choice now. Still, at times, I go back and revisit my past and its forty years of insanity and find a way to exspress what I went through. My addiction (all addicitons, in a sense, are alike) was falling in love. I never drank because I couldn't afford to lose control. But, love fed my need for approval and my need to be wanted. While "in love" I couldn't be depressed and the high was so great. If it wasn't for the pain I caused others, I could never have stopped or become responisble for my actions. Appreciated the comment, obviously, best of look in all your endeavors, Love,Tom B. -
could be about wine or a metaphor for so many things...this write boggles my mind when i start pulling deeper meanings. you've gone into such minute detail it's amazing.
very nicely done
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Very haunting and nice metophor with the wine...you paint a sad picture in the mind...nice work and good wording.
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Nice imagery
Powerful imagery! I like the dark undertones of your verses and your word choice fit and supported the theme of the poem. Anyhow, you did a excellent work on this poem. -
1989 Krug?
mint... im salervating
ide luv to know if there was a particular wine
the chateau... dates... terroir...
its amasing stuff wine
and youve written the best thing ive read on it... in poem form anyway...
err...
or recently...
im remembering blurry distant baccus lines... possably a michelangelo sonnet...
anyway
mint.
with the vaint vanilla tannens of distilled taste wisdom
lol
peace -
Very deep poem and just like Whoa! You did one brilliant job writing this poem. Very good job. The imagery is awesome and it flowed smoothly. Brilliant. Keep on writing
Desyre -
EXCELLENT JOB!!!!!
Review
How is it that we can consume this in life always so surely? ...And feel the pain of it, and yet, while trying to forget we come back for more, to quench the thirst that lies deep with-in.... No matter how much it hurts! Good luck to you, Tomisb..... Your favorite poetess, [TCG]Angel
***
Edited on Dec 24, 5:37 p.m. because 'o0o0o0oPpPpPpSsSsSssss!
Misspelled word!'.
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wooow - and you tell me not to write such depressing stuff! But anyways, I love what you did with everything, how poetically it's all expressed. Great job! Love always, Jordanne
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Every single one of your writes sort of makes me gulp , and it makes me relate...to that which you use as a metaphor and to what sorts of things are in the metaphor, and before it and behind it. Being that in this one it is a fine wine , the way you describe it makes me believe that you have partaken in some of the finest ( btw, Luxbg is also wine country and they make Riesling , Chardonnay and Pinot/blanc/gris and noir not to be rivalled by any other wineries
. But in that glass of yours and in that bottle you speak of so much more that touches and stirs memories of old , and such melancholy runs through...one sip at a time in a fragile glass . Take care my friend. I have missed your writings,
xoxo
reenie
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WOW! I am so thrilled to see you post something new, and so very capitivated by this!!! Your expertise of the metaphor is so very amazing! This is a sad and explosive write, but so well written you just cant read it once. How I miss your talent when you disappear!
Karen
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Oh my.. This was so powerful!! Your passion flows wildly here! You certainly did a wonderful job with this one!
Melanie
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PERFECTION
WOW! WOW! and OMG AMAZING! This is perfection. I couldn't have asked for more. Keep it coming. I'm at a loss for words on this piece. It's been a while since you posted and I've been waiting anxiously. Thank you for this. This masterpiece. Take care.
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