Where did you sleep last night ?,

The cosmic chaos, banged noisily, cathartically,

out of tune, out of time,

like a mad b*****d djembe drum,

caused porcelain to fall and shatter

upon the piss stained ground,

and deranged, puked mandibles and knuckle bones

in frenetic, blood, sick speak, sunday blues

Tuesday morning,

and wretched and wrenched into 

present moment, s**t smeared

and fowl minded, underneath

a hedge, 100 metres from home,

sunlight blinding and illuminating

the thousand yard crawl of shame,

To the devil in the dark green glass,

                                                        salute,

The hunt master has won this game,

Reviews

[Eilis]

What I love about your poetry is that you never try to craft an image or create a persona, you just lay it all out there with this stunning accuracy. Or this is how it seems to me. This great authenticity. And it is this honesty/accuracy of living, this celebration of even the darker moments of the dance with self, that make me keep returning to see what else you have revealed. There are the made for tv or, more accurately for our times, the made for instagram moments that take reality and try to present it in some neat package that can not possibly be lived up to long term.

But here, there is the brutal snapshot of someone in medias res-- life as Shakespeare comedy and tragedy combined. Is that possible? I think so. There is always something to laugh about in the middle of the madness, and in this poem, in spite of the understanding it gives me of the game being won by the wrong party, there is also this underlying humor where the speaker understands the absurdity of the situation, and perhaps, more importantly, that it was avoidable and self-inflicted. So what does that mean. In the scheme of the poem, we are left with this hanging feeling. The devil resting at the bottom of the glass and the hunt master are both predatory forces, but also, there's an underlying feeling that the glass was pursued because it offered some escape, some pleasure that means it is not all a total loss. The sense of it having been fun while it lasted looms large for me.

But time has faded into the ambiguity of all things when the mind is hibernating. The visceral pursuit is the prize, and as you show, it's not always pretty. It's a poem that shows me a lot of things I don't intuitively understand. Having found myself in the bushes once or twice, I can feel the damp grass and confusion upon waking, but the overall press of the dark green glass universe is less familiar to me. So, you've shared the devil here, and in doing so, opened up, what I see as, an important perspective. I'd say Bukowski might have read and dearly enjoyed a poem like this. The rawness and opening of the psychic vein for sharing with the greater world. It's a powerful poem, Gram.

[gram linski]

thanks, Eilis, not sure it was mid anything , was pretty much the end, lol, the devil and the huntmaster are one and the same ye olde Jaigermeister is a powerful thing but you got the aspects of humour and shame that I was trying to convey, and as for Bukowski, he can kiss my hairy a*s, lol, thanks for your great insightful review, I appreciate your time and thoughts very much

[Eilis]

It was mid stumbling out of the bushes, haha. Which is quite a Shakespearean beginning. You’re welcome, Gram. Always enjoy your poems.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Some hedge their bets others sleep under them. Oh I can feel that numbness as you try to stave off the aches, the sickness, the headache, dry mouth, the gap in recall and wonder if you can sneek back home without dicovery. Picaso painted in vibrant colour, gram in piss and puke lol!

[gram linski]

Thanks for the read, dude, sounds like you've been there,

[HB Rita]

A night with your own.... Enjoy and keep writing.

[gram linski]

Thanks HB, I did and I do.

[HB Rita]

We all should be treating oursrlf at one point no matter what! I know uou do but i don’t! I nevee treat myself! Stupid,,,right?

[gram linski]

Not even the guilty pleasure of some cheeky chocolate or dodgy music, treats come in all shapes and sizes.

[Chris]

The-morning-after body blues... some remember, some don't ...fewer care.

[gram linski]

Like yer style, dude, thanks for reading

[Chris]

You ARE appreciated.

[Chris Shaw]

What a night. What a hangover. I've not been there since my early twenties and I poisoned myself on gin. Nit touched it since. I felt your pain.

Chris

[gram linski]

haha, Thanks, Chris, knew you had a dark under side, you can now get Gin that tastes like Vimto, imagine,

[Chris Shaw]

We've all got a dark side if you look hard enough :) Vimto eh? Now that might be worth trying lol.

[Onlyme]

The bad effect of so alcohol will again. gives you hug.

[gram linski]

Thanks Dawn, was a while ago, wasnae actually last weekend,lol

[Onlyme]

Glad to hear it. :)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

had nights like this...where the hell is home, point me in the direction...
i don't remember how i got here.
j.

[gram linski]

We've all done it, j. thank f**k their was no mobile phones, back in the day,lol