It is a metaphoric retelling a relationship that filled me with feelings like being drunk. If you transpose the drunkenness in the poem with the feelings of being in love, You will have a good idea of what this is about. If you have never gone on that kind of binge drunk or binge love, it likely will not make much sense.
I was happy. It made sense but only as long as I was within the drunkenness. I felt good and partied until the person pulled back and I understood the unreal nature of it. Then the overindulgence made me ill, just as too much alcohol has at times. When I awoke in the realization it hurt physically and emotionally. It was not unlike a hangover.
From that I discovered there was a deeper love that gave me the same experience and it never left. It exists all around me and it comes from a source that never empties.
I walk about in that stupor looking for people to share it with.
It is all about the love.
She Sings Drunkard's Songs -------------------------------------------
The fruits of worldly love, ripened, sweetened and the juice turned to wine.
Then it intoxicated, confused and faded reality lines.
It was not a sipping situation. She had not drunk like that before.
She stumbled in a stupor, and ignored much more.
Her thoughts cluttered with hallucinations,
passion, meanings and the wishful wisdom of tipsy understandings.
She danced with life leaning heavily on another
until they backed away and left her struggling for stability
Her world stopped as the room spun her down.
She was circled by celebration as she lay puking on the floor.
Then the wine ran dry winding her mind around its empty flask.
She wants so much to find a drunkenness that lasts.
She slept deep undreaming the drunk's dreams.
Her heart throbbed in agony when she awoke in the loud world.
That day it was sobriety that made her steps unsteady
'Let me die!" she cried to the people that were not listening.
"End the hangover pounding and hounding my soul."
She allowed reality to pass away without eulogy.
Now she turns to unworldly fruit for an ecstasy that endures,
She gulps the wine from divine grapes that is always sweet without morning after pain.
The figments of that fermented spirit are firm and the bottle never empties.
She sings drunkard's songs, a wino wandering the earth, lost within verse.
Should you ever meet her while sitting on the curb of Destiny Street,
she will offer you a drink.
Two sets of comments: First, the ideas: An addict who switches to the "divine" may be little better off than the wino. Escape is still escape. How does one know that what one identifies as divine is actually so? How do we separate the gold from the fool's gold? I ask this only because a) I don't have an answer, and b) I have met too many who have merely exchanged addictions. Perhaps the divine is contained within us, and hence, is best communicated by being our true nature. That means we must also be "of the world", as well as beyond it. And that, in turn, means we ought not to escape "worldly love" merely to protect ourselves from life's hurts. Second, the technicals: The rhythm is truly rough. Some of it could easily be cleaned up. Look at your 1st two lines. The 1st 3 syllables are in short-long rhythm. Following the comma (which, by the way does not belong) you change to long-short (RI-pened). Then you switch to short-short-long (and the JUICE), and finally end with long-short-long. Your second line is better at the end: con-FUSED, and FAD-ed, re-AL-ity LINES. You could fix the 1st line rhythm by copying the same technique you used in the 2nd. Eliminate some words, writing more briefly, economically, such as: "...RIpened, SWEETened; JUICE beCOMing WINE." or "...RIpened, SWEETened, LIquid TURNED to WINE." I'm not suggesting that the rhythm ought to be 100% consistent - that would make it verse rather than poetry. But it should not stumble. The 1st line switch from short-long to long short (at "ripened") works OK, but some of the other changes are awkward. I hope I haven't been overly tedious, but I feel the ideas are worth putting in better text. I hope this has been helpful. Fred
Goddess Bless to you, Chrys, and I have to say that maybe you should take a hangover pill(symbolism). Hehehe, this was all truly well written, and it was terribly sad, because I do know how you feel. (No, I have NO experience hehehe). It is terribly dreadful when someone you loved is ripped away from you, like the person was attached, leaving you looking for someone to sew back on, and take his place. I loved the end of the poem, where you said you can find her on Destiny Street, and she will offer you a drink, that left a small chill of mystery in the air(or do I read and watch too many horror?) Anyhows, this was truly wonderful indeed, and I hope the Goddess helps you. Great and Amazing job. Peace and love, Aya
The first verse seems dry and edgy, with the punnish "sipping situation" giving me the sense that you're playing around under my nose, that I'm missing an important metaphor. It raised my curiosity. Wine is life's pursuits? You refuse to give it up blatantly, but I think I get the general feeling of what you're saying. Very mysterious and engaging. The rhythm is unsteady and often rushed, especially when the lines run long. Not jarring, though. The occasional rhymes (lines 1-2, 3-4) tend to emphasize the words around them, and since they're there in the beginning, I was subconsciously looking for more of them, but they never showed up. You could use that for effect, maybe for the resolution like in "The Collar," but your resolution seems more open-ended. My impression is that the woman is not important as a drunk, but as someone who can't handle life like the rest of us, perhaps feeling more guilt or more emptiness. Everyone else at the party is drinking, but she can't hold her drink and eventually, unlike everyone else, moves on to unworldly fruit. I automatically think of "living water" here. In the resolution, I get the feeling she's a bit of a prophetess or convert, and perhaps others feel patronizing toward her because she used to be a drunk and has now moved on to something else (is it poetry? religion? art?) to replace drink. She never rejoins the party. "Her world stopped as the room spun her down." Vivid, like someone grabbing her by the head and spinning her to the ground. Very interesting and well-managed. Can't critique the free-verse. I can't tell if it's a religious or a glory-of-artists message.
i'm getting the impression that this is much more than just speaking of an alcoholic finding sobriety... you begin by talking about "worldy love" and move to "otherworldly love." love can certainly make us feel drunk at times and when love dies, the hangover can be relentless. if we place our love and trust in the Divine, there will be no hangover, no drunken stupor... this life is transitory and overintoxication can be found anywhere, in people, places and things.
the finest wine we sip from the Divine...
wonderful metaphor Chrys. it took me a few reads to get what you were saying but that is a good thing. this is one for contemplation in a life surrounded by worldy pleasures and pains that in the end do not really matter. thank you for this. @ Cat