Gravity pulls hard on the drunkard,
shifting time in alleys.
Prophets born in bottles
spin circles around the edge
of everything he never was
as expected whatnots thunder in his ears,
forgotten.
He binds his back to brick
and trumps his dreams,
sliding into blackness.
Nothing mends his world
like tomorrow’s waiting dog.
Brenda Warren 2013
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rather sad but I really like the write
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Sad, ironical write….and this famous ‘Prophets born in bottles’ – drunkards’ ‘law’…even waiting dog has more perspective mho…thanks for words
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Words written with compassion, words that could describe my lost friend, Neil. Thank you for a beautiful write. Smart, and feeling.
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Exploring a perspective, often ignored, the poem is rich in its sharp language and lucidity of the images. Well-written.
-HA
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Your poem describes what I knew of The Town Drunk in a little place in Kansas where I grew up, although I didn’t know at the time that he was seeking prophets in bottles. Somehow, I thought it was only comfort.
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Prophets born in bottles
spin circles around the edge
of everything he never was ~
so sad for all that was missed in this persons life. Beautifully written!
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It hits hard…..Poetry should hit hard….
Love it!!
doggy tales
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Most excellent!
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Spot on… I especially like the second stanza.
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The picture you paint with your words is vivid, an indictment of the evils of drinking to excess.
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Not sure whether tomorrows waiting dog is his hangover or a neighborhood mutt on his morning walk distributing his news. Either way the picture was clear and brought a smile to my face.
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YES. I loved that line, too. And this:
“Prophets born in bottles”
Excellent.
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A visceral portrait. Lots of drunkards in our thoughts!
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Loved the opening as well as the resolution. Great poem from start to finish.
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Everybody just wants to be someone special, even the lowliest of us. A profound portrait of lost dreams. ❤ Emrald
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A powerful portrayal!
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Gravity pulls hard on the drunkard…yes, this way and that. The edge of everything he never was makes me sad. I’m feeling the sadness in your poem. Well done, Brenda.
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Matters not, not using “sleepy”. Brenda, you have created a bleak picture of alcoholism here. Well wordled, my friend.
Pamela
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I didn’t use sleepy.
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