Am I a drunk? Or just stupid...

It's 4 o'clock on what could be a morning,
A Sunday,
Maybe a Monday,

I'm pretty sure that time does not exist,
The lamb of the sheep died of old age,

In its absence I wake,
I was asleep!

Is it that my creativity committed suicide?
Is it that the so called blood of Christ crucified me?
Or is it that I was never creative?
Merely expressive,
Obnoxious,
A noxious gas escaped from my own bad breath.

No, as a boy I dreamt of chocolate dinosaurs,
Procuring a pot roast,
Recently bought for convenience,
Casually claiming intellectual territory over dinner,

It has to be the booze,
It always is,
Destroying what I cannot remember.

— bloke, Jan 20, 2009

About This Poem

About the Author

Country/Region: AUS

Critiques

themoonman

17 years 4 months ago

Bloke...

Well, it could be the booze....lol... but I found your honesty refreshing... I don't drink now but I've sure had those times... enjoyed the read... Richard

Conect11

17 years 4 months ago

have been there

those feelings of desperation, the raw stickiness of a too early morning after the too late night. Have felt that way that nonbelievers do, when the blood of Christ feels like a judgement, when in fact it's a release. A brutal poem with serious pain and reflection, I especially like that you differentiated between creativity and expression. Not many people have that sort of subtle skill. That you traveled back the way you did, talking of chocolate dinosaurs and pot roast was excellent. You were nostalgic without beating the reader about the head with your nostalgia, a tightrope you managed to walk perfectly. Mark W. Galatians 5:22-23 "22 But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23 gentleness, and self-control. Against these, there is no law!" My favorite verse(s) in the Bible

bloke

17 years 4 months ago

cheers

thanks for your kind words.