Haven't I always known that I'm too much
alcohol for anyone to hold?
They are ashamed of their dependency,
so they abstain.
When extreme sentiment arose
did they not knock back a couple shots of me?
But despite the effects--
desirable or otherwise--that I left
they don't possess any special emotion for me.
Because I was simply a device;
to befuddle or excite
to repress or to ignite.
No, they aren't capable of a goodbye
nor can they spare a thought or phrase on me;
because the society they now keep
calls for absolute sobriety.
Author notes
Let's raise a glass to friends
I accept that DP Robertson can be a complete prick when it comes to commenting on something he obviously doesn’t like – I have waived my right to complain to moderators and owner of this site about his help wrapped in thistles type comments on my beloved poetry. Although I believe DP Robertson may have a bitter and twisted side to his nature, he has the right to criticise my doggerel anyway he sees fit with whatever words he chooses.
A contest entry
- ANYTHING YOUR LITTLE HEART WISHES TO FOB OFF AS POETRY. by dp robertson.
700 points, ended February 11, 2008, 23 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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“I accept that DP Robertson can be a complete prick when it comes to commenting on something he obviously doesn’t like – I have waived my right to complain to moderators and owner of this site about his help wrapped in thistles type comments on my beloved poetry. Although I believe DP Robertson may have a bitter and twisted side to his nature, he has the right to criticise my doggerel anyway he sees fit with whatever words he chooses.”
I think I need a fucking drink after reading that bit of bollocks. That is just the epitome of “dreary”. Sure make a statement by all means but make it so that the reader can hook onto it. Be entranced by the power of your words; don’t just slap down some turgid metaphorical bit of crap and expect it to be embraced. It is so lifeless on the page as to be barely breathing. Take your words and learn to elevate them by not lecturing but to bring the reader closer to your words in a whisper rather than a drone. And it started brilliantly,
Haven't I always known that I'm too much alcohol for anyone to hold?
That line itself has so much potential to create something of lasting literary value, then the whole thing just belly whacks into a huge vat of mediocrity.
David
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The title drew me in to read this poem and the beautifully powerful writing held me in. I love the constant, yet unheeded, struggle. The flow is smooth and easy to read. Phenomenal write!
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thank you! did you get my metaphor, however?
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