Falling through the middle of the holes inside his head
he wakes up in the morning and forgets the nights he spends
Chasing melancholia, he drinks until he’s skunked
cuz anything is better than a cloudy blue funk.
He knows anything is better than a cloudy blue funk.
Brenda Warren 2012
This piece was prompted by Trifecta and their Monday challenge. It is a piece I’d like to work into a blues ballad. Time is quickly lapsing in the challenge, so I will submit what is complete. When (if) I continue/finish this piece, I’ll link to it in an upcoming challenge(for anyone interested in a read).
Thanks for reading, and for these challenges. It’s a fun ride.
I too love the first line, and I’ll be interested to see if you pull it into a ballad!
LikeLike
The first line so perfectly describes the feeling of black out drinking. And alcoholics really will do anything to avoid the cloudy blue funk.
Thanks for linking up with us again. Please come back tomorrow for the new prompt.
LikeLike
This must be the existence of many an alcoholic – an awful warning to those on the edge. I look forward to reading the finished version, but this stanza feels pretty polished to me, as well as crying out for an Amy Barlow rendition at the piano!
LikeLike
Great idea, VIv. I’ll go nudge Amy in this direction. 😉
LikeLike
I love that first line about falling through the holes in his head. I think he’s really going to feel blue when he discovers the drinks don’t chase away the blue funk 🙂
LikeLike
This is so good it’s like songwriting. I can see this as lyrics to a folksy or bluesy song!
LikeLike
A nice response to the challenge.
LikeLike
I really like your piece.
LikeLike
this is lyrical and the first line fantastic (:
LikeLike