When Women Drink Bloody Marys

When Women Drink Bloody Marys

no hot sauce
when life is sweet
the bills paid,
the kids keeping their kids
the men faithful, the reports
positive
no blood in that white russian,
seven seas,  pina colada
milestone
of musings
that Mona Lisa moment
of quiet lips and bright eyes
soft in the silent place,
where the heart still trusts
enough,
to disregard the head.

women drink crimson and red,
pour vodka, drink spicy, drink hot
when the over head
has headed
out to sea,
when they decide
to kangaroo the grand-kids
from a swinging pouch,
while menopause fires rage
in a  long
bummed flush
of damp cold and dull heat
 
women drink when life turns
into an auction of fierce fun
a karaoke dream of greatness
they denied themselves
at the first dance
they drink medical reports,
 low hummed,
diaphanous,
that do not retreat
to negatives
they drink pride that prevents
 that look
of desolate terror
tearing to peer,
through the calm, stoic face
and raise their glasses
in a cool stare
just as the tired waitress
flips up the chairs.

Reviews

[J]

I've read several of your poems and come to some conclusions:
You have such original combinations of delightful phrasing and imagery.
I looked at your page and saw that you were a musician, and wasn't surprised.
There's rhythm, and then there's rhythm... that kind which I think only another musically-oriented person will pick up on. I dunno, but it's all spot-on.

It's great to come across writer-gems like you.
Not enough around, y'know?

And thanks for the comment and fave =)
J

[Doctor Deathstab]

The first part was like a dream of the perfect day. Then it seemed to go downhill. That's the way life is, you have high hopes at first, then all of a sudden you're just trying to get by.

[C.T. Bailey]

Your writing speaks to the strength and weakness of the wonderous female. This work is completely summed by this excerpt:

"they denied themselves
at the first dance"

That is what what women do. They deny themselves that others might be happy. They deny themselves that other be sustained. They deny themselves contentment that others be content. This entire piece echos these outpourings of the female soul. You know Phibby...when many other's write poetry, they often stumble....when you write poetry...you dance.
Todd

[W.k.kortas]

The images-- "kangaroo the grand-kids", "a karaoke dream of greatness"-- are wonderful, the combination of humor, observation, and inventiveness that seems to be your personal fiefdom. It is melancholy, but never even threatening to descend into the saccharrine. This is fine, fine work.

[Ed Hart]

damn, she's over there smiling into her third bloody mary, all self contained, and won't even glance into these old pirate eyes...