|
Menu
|
|
|
Social
|
|
|
|
Whitehouse Tavern 5:03 PM
Contributed by
skyhawk432
on
Monday, 14th May 2007 @ 03:43:14 AM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
I gots meself in a grievance, laddie.
Those clocks're half full over here;
time for ya willin' friend to passover happy hour
and I don't got a single cent of pretty polly.
The rest of the lot do, look a'that pig'ead,
gots himself a quarter glass, fourth to a galun;
a mounted stampedin' calvary line all to the docks.
He'll cry lovely in the late.
Or that rich scalliwag, yeah, he's drownin'
his eyes out in a cauldron bowl; a 3-
quarter hell. Aye, poor fella' must of
rubbed cheeks the wrong way.
Ah... and look at him, yeah, the silver hair croon
near the window; such a man needs a drink.
Two full galuns: He's the bravest of em' al',
searchin' for afterlife in the glass bottom.
If such disgraces can pluck their strings
to Siren's Song, why not so can I? Because of my
absent coins? No, laddie, it's somthin' more
than that for simply, I can get coins anytime.
Haven't ya heard: "A man lost without help
is a man helped without loss." It makes all the
sense an' I have put my heart to its words.
I bet you're wonderin' why of all chaps that I'm sayin' this.
I stumbled upon in night lows: A God.
Told me of signs and asked me about
my evenin' rounds. They were simple:
Why was I doing it, and why did I want to...
I told it straight: I'm a chap not worth
anythin' to the world; to walk or
bathe in its emerald-shire beauty,
and you know what such a God told me?
Humph, this care-er agreed; told me I was
a poor chap and wasn't foolin' anyone;
that my hardest quarrels were like flies to
a real person's battle with life.
I agreed. Tell ya, I liked this God,
never pushed ya to donate your life to the church
or spoke of heresy behind divine right, such
a God only smiled an' told me straight:
"You can sit in this brewin' purgatory
or smite the evil alcoholic serpent."
And, my willin' friend, I cut off this serpent's
head, watched the blood flow freely.
Which leads me to sittin' here. Why?
To remember those times; to site on the
edge and look down over the lakes an' valleys
so may all things ugly be found.
I was of this ugly, so consumed by the
flask that I was the one gettin' drinked,
but not now nor forever. I've been
cured, willin' friend and I will be brief with ya...
I'm startin' life as new an' that
means I must cut the head off of
my past. I'm leaving for good and don't
follow me; willin' friends are the devil.
Copyright ©
skyhawk432
... [
2007-05-14 03:43:14] (Date/Time posted on
site)
Advertisments:
|
|
|
|
|
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
|
|
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry
Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any
comment. That said, if you find an offensive comment, please
contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title
etc.
|
|
|
|