Not the life I wanted to lead
Not your average day of loopy well-being
Not the family I recognize as brethren
Not the word I dreamt up flowing from pen, blood and heart
Not the tensile stretch of muscle used in utmost longing, reach to beyond
No picture-book happiness of domesticity tamed
No anger or despair allowed to creep in
Save in the tumble – a little too loud – of ice cubes in a glass
as soon as cocktail hour will allow.
Fall into the flab of inane self-expression
with hiccup, giggle and gin.
Join me for Open Link Night over at dVerse Poets Pub, the friendliest online poetry forum.  Drinking or writing a poem about drinking is not strictly compulsory, though. Â
findingtimetowrite 
ha. you got enough to share…smiles…there is def a dark shadow here…it happens…things def dont always happen the way we think they will…and that can be hard to live with…to face…hoping though that happiness can still be found outside the drink…
Choosing happiness, always and defiantly, just what Dr. Brian ordered!
smiles…i like that you call us a friendly place…sometimes life can surely develop in ways we didn’t want it to develop – and then how to handle disappointment – my father was drinking, kinda disappointed with life – and sometimes it’s tough to choose differently – choose happiness as bri wrote in his intro today… a thought provoking write
Yes, I’ve had my share of ‘disappointed’ family members, some unwilling to admit it even to themselves, and choosing to chase away those shadows in unproductive ways. It is so sad to see.
Save in the tumble – a little too loud – of ice cubes in a glass. This line, alone, purveys so much. Nice work.
Thank you, Terri – that’s one of my favourite lines, also.
I like “as soon as cocktail hour will allow.” This is a great summer poem!
This is… brilliantly entertaining, thank you!
Hickup giggle and gin.. I have to say cheers to that
Make mine a double, thank you, Bjorn!
Dear Marina, go with the ‘hiccup, giggle and gin’ – it’ll take you so far …
I think many of us reach a point in life where things don’t look the way we thought they would…. But it’s where we go from there that matters. Easier said than done, I know.
This…such a wonderful depiction of what real life is like.
This is not…something I could even hope to achieve.
Well done!
A perfect poem for the Pub’s anniversary. I felt like you were talking to me when I’m behind the bar. Great stuff!
Well, you make it so easy for people to confide in you, Mr. Barman!
Dark with a humor chaser! I like it.
Ha, ha, I can see who’s been studying mixology/cocktail-ology here!
Marina, this feels mournful to me. It says so much in just a few images. I like the repetition too — it’s very effective.
Thanks, I do have a ‘thing’ about repetition. Seems to crop up quite frequently in my poetry!
This poem serves up a glass of disappointment with the gin. A strong write about a reality which I am sure many can identify with IF they are willing to admit it….even to themselves.
Spot on, Mary! This started out as a whinge of self-pity on a weekend when things did not go according to plan… but it’s always a good idea to ‘sit’ on a poem for a while, and then rethink, rework, reword, isn’t it?
I love your tags for this, but I think the self-pity is transformed into something a little less toxic, perhaps resignation, by the act of writing here–well-said.
It is hard to look at all of the This is nots that we live with on a daily basis. At least we can be grateful for the ice cubes and the hour.
I venture that most of us have felt the inanity of our existence from time-to-time, and it’s all too often tied into addiction. But the cycle can be broken. Great capture of the feeling.
Any port in a storm, eh ? Very enjoyable
Beautifully and eloquently said. Though a somber thought, it’s nice to know we are not alone in these occasional feelings of emptiness, loss. Knowing we are similarly bound to each other, to humanity in such a way is comforting in a quirky way. it just goes to show we’re all human. Onward and upward, I say. Fools be damned, and let’s blaze a path in to the future. When the grim reaper comes for me, he’ll have to drag me kicking and screaming, except I’ll have a bottle of champagne in hand. 🙂