Wine and Whine

The night has rough teeth, doesnít it?
Take another sip; youíll need it. I can see,
already, the slip of memory's wet fingers round your throat,
coaxing your vocal cords to sing of whateverís on your mind.

Itís fine. Iím right there with you, my friend.
Iíve been staring at the stars and the clouds, watching
as my drunken mind arranges them to faces
of those Iíd rather forget. I can show you just how

they do it, too. Look at that cloud. Those are her lips.
The star above it, her dimple, and that cluster there,
her eyes. Oh, you donít see it? A shame. Sheís quite
beautiful. Itís fine. IĎm sure your songs as well

are not tuned to my ears. Do you want to sing it yet?
No? Thatís fine. The night is long, and liquor
loosens the mind, and lessens its lucidity. Oh dear,
look at me, alliterate! I think Iím much drunker than I thought.

Oh, well.

Poetry by Sameen
Read 65 times
Written on 2022-08-07 at 16:34

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Yes. I have been here,I know this thought process. You write to us, yet not, it is poised between private pain and public acknowledgement. Oops, there I go falling fowl of alliterative allies

D G Moody The PoetBay support member heart!
Pareidolia! I had to look it up - nice one Allen. But to the poem; I loved it; taking me back to my misspent youth (in truth still at it); and the nights on weed and wine in Sydney; this evoked all our daft days but so beautifully - bravo Sameen!

one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
Again, an unhurried, conversational poem. It's very appealing, not to be rushed to the final conclusive lines. I enjoyed the journey.

Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
What a charming poem that sets out to explore two states of drunken thinking... at least that's how it came over to me. Pareidolia is sometimes said to be unique to humans, but who are we to say! (And you don't have to be drunk to experience it.)