Ravings of Wine and Nepenthe

 

I remember that cartoon,

 

With a dog and with a bus…

 

And the doggy tried to board it,

 

But was flung into the dust…

 

The sign upon the doorway,

 

Emblazoned in bold black letters-

 

Said, “No Dogs Allowed.”

 

With a sigh and with a huff,

 

He turned and went back home…

 

He didn’t learn that lesson…

 

You know…

 

The one that says, “When in Rome…”

 

You gotta do as the Romans do.

 

 

 

Persistence breeds petulance-

 

And if you’re so inclined…

 

Maybe you should try abstinence,

 

And your mind will be defined…

 

Silence breeds contempt,

 

And boredom breeds lies…

 

Propaganda is, well, propaganda…

 

This could be clearly seen-

 

In der Fuhrer’s eyes!

 

 

 

Xanax and Paxil,

 

Oh such wondrous pills…

 

Ich liebe dich, ich liebe dich, ich liebe dich…

 

SHUT UP!

 

The voices,

 

The voices;

 

They’re telling me to wed!

 

The voices,

 

The voices,

 

The voices!

 

I want you in my bed!

 

What’s amatter with you?

 

What’s amatter with me?

 

How are you feeling?

 

Fine, thank you! A bit smitten is all!

 

With who? With who?

 

With you! With you!

 

Cheers! Cheers! Olaaaaayyyyy, ole ole ole!

 

 

I can’t take it anymore…

 

I can’t give it anymore…

 

Where do I go?

 

What do I do?

 

Who sees a little-

 

Silhouette of a man?

 

Was he there? He wasn’t there!

 

Oh yes, yes he was…

 

And he’s coming for you…

 

The stethoscope relays;

 

Beat

 

Beat

 

Beat

 

Beat

 

Silence.

 

When one's heart ceases to beat, is it possible to hear the silence before the onset of death?  Is it possible to realize your impending doom for 15-20 seconds before it knocks upon your door?  Can one hear their life being snuffed out by the nothingness echoing from their chest cavity?  It is a question that is not unlike the Tootsie Pop commercial; the world may never know, but I'm thinking we'll all find out soon enough.

Author's Note

What's weird is any words can be slapped together, and if they don't form sentences, we call them poetry! I don't claim that this is a poem, just something born from the boredom that arrives at my door when my love has fallen blissfully asleep. That empty spot where I should be, that one right beside her... Well, it's inspiring (:

Reviews

[Ron]

This writing is in "the stream of conciousness mode". Very effective because lyrical thoughts are allowed to stream out almost randomly onto the page. A book called "To the lighthouse" was written in this mode. It is very powerful but it will allow the reader into the crannies of your mind. Well done! Ron

[Larissa G.]

It's intriguing; poetry written out of the blue is often a bit like a journal. Reading this is reading the wandering thoughts of people. In that sense it's very down to earth. It also means of course we as readers might not be entirely sure what you are saying, but we can find our own meanings.
Thank you for sharing. Sorry I can't offer much more than that.

Secret recipe to trippy poems is to let insanity out.

If insanity is not being understood, then I stand out.

But it does not matter, when you believe in what you do.

This piece, my dear friend, is one of my favorites, trippy with its own unique flow, and the subconscious message is deep.

Great fundamentals

a wonderful piece

[HoorayForUnderdog]

I liked this, Jeff...and I like your questions at the end...you are a questions man, arent you?! I bet there is realization of impending doom right before death and that is "the look" that registers in a person's or animal's eyes...have you ever seen it?...have you ever had to be in the room when a vet puts down a dog and you see that look, the window to the soul? Yes, I think the realization is there. Scary.