they’re dry-mortared clichés stuck
fast with
plaster … their thoughts of drink
when
the day is done, when the sun quits
laughing,
turning them inside out
to
help them pray, weep, or just forget.
a drink … a drink with the birds
in
the beginning hours
of another unwanted day is
when my thirst becomes an erection.
the birds … my friends,
antagonists, whores, and arid cunts
all roost the same:
the apprehensive, yet diligent robin,
a single
mother nesting in a hanging fern
with a lone, small, blue egg;
the quarrelsome hummingbird left
tightening
its spouse’s noose
with
resentment, envy, and jealousy;
the arrogant jay, the vain cardinal,
the languid
and common cowbird,
the plain-gray,
politically correct dove with
its passive song
all coo with the scavenger’s crow
perched on my
neighbor
Mr. Valentine’s bland,
wood fence
waiting to knock back the carnage
of
my
final word.
they are rarely thirsting,
so
i drink for them
saying
“good morning!
here’s to you, my friends!”
tipping up my drink, deepening my
swallow
regardless of how
fractional,
and
easily broken
my trivial thirst has become
as conformity and
their mirror-less queens
are still trying to sleep it off.
H.L. Peterson (July 2008)
A contest entry
- a bird falls into the sea by hilly.
1000 points, ended July 20, 2008, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 17 of 17
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"tipping up my drink, deepening my
swallow
regardless of how
fractional,
and
easily broken
my trivial thirst has become"
I sat here and read this poem three times before I could drink in the reality of it all. Your ability to take the norm and create the abnormal is ingenious. This poem reminds me of the "beat" poetry my parents raised me on. Like pabulum, they made me drink until I nearly suffered from intoxication and as you say here;
"i am still trying to sleep it off".
Damn! I truly enjoyed your poetry, and I "thirst" for more! (pun intended)
May I add you as a favorite?
april nicole
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of course ... and for your kind response, i'll read your work as long as you can appriciate raw honesty ... as those that know me expect nothing less ...
thank you
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woow!!
amazing piece!you left me with out words...your choice of words are well put. loved it
juliet
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thank you ... *cheers*
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yes
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A most 'viscerally' delightful penning sir, rather reminds me of, 'Charles Bukowski' in a way with its raw predicative philosophy and stark observations of otherwise mundane life; very clever and well done.
mj.
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wow
You never fail to amaze me. You are a breath of fresh air on a site that could be filled with so much more beauty and effort.
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you know, i only ever whip on here to see if you've written something, and i've been happily surprised twice now.
you never fail to give me goosebumps.
N. -
the birds here, almost seem like lead bricks from those first lines, as if it is impossible for them to fly.
so full of themselves in the chatter, that noise going from nest to nest, pecking picking, squabbling over the smallest things, always out to own the best piece of grass, the juiciest worm. Ah but then that's birds, following their nature
chaotic, loud, and familiar, their actions far less graceful than their song once removed from the magic..
little dinosaurs, brittle, fragile, and far too busy to drink, unless it's a hasty landing, quickly forgotten..
I drink for them too, though refuse to swallow.
I owed you a much better comment than I left previously..
while trying to find a way around saying I see no birds here
cheers
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It's really good to see your words again.
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damn good, i like the breaks and all the birds...and have one on me. cheers.
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not sure how trivial your thirst has become...lol
i do really love the closing lines of this, excellent
al
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"waiting to knock back the carnage
of
my
final word."
Whichever. 
Well, Scribe...you know I love your words...all of 'em. These are definitely visceral. Good luck in the contest, my Friend. 
lil' night
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*smiling* ... i love the word "visceral" ... hope your moving is going well hun
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Bottoms up, but make a mine coffee, gotta work. Loved S1, it set a perfect mood; "help them pray, weep, or just forget."
The end of S2, almost made me spit my coffee onto my keypad, lol, great line. Someone get the poor man a drink!
And of course the characterization of the birds was a perfect touch.
Can't think of any nits with this one, there's just such a great tone to your work. Clever, cynical, but with the hint of a crooked smile. Liked this one, alot.
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smiling with a crooked smile ... thanks hun
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That's just the way I've always pictured you. lol. You're more than welcome. Cheers!
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