Writing Sober

Writing is painful
writing is risky
writing is a jump off the cliff of emotion

Risky business better not done
without protection
without padding

Writing sober is irresponsible
foolhardy
a risk that may leave you damaged

Like driving without a seatbelt
football without a helmet
alone naked

Alcohol provides the protection
like the ice applied to a burn
why feel the pain

Even pulling off a band aid
facing that terrible knowledge
that it will hurt

You can leave it on
you can moisten it
apply some trickery or
just pull and hurt

But it is a necessary pain
one that will subside
the pain of writing may not

So writing sober is a mistake
alcohol doesn't free the mind
or loosen the inhibitions

It allows you to write
knowing that the pain will be deadened
it is the net

You jump
you feel
you expose yourself knowing
it may lead to an emotional maze

No way out
but with your protection
the feeling is not so intense
so dramatic

Will I advance to the moment
where I can write without protection
do I want to

I don't think so
for to advance is to admit
the deadening of my spirit

The arrogance of having arrived
having no worries
nothing to contemplate

The uncontemplated life is a
pathway to dullness
to living to avoid feelings

I want to feel
and drink
and write
and cry
and regret
and celebrate my life

My mistakes
my triumphs
my loves
my losses
all faced in front of me
in words

They look back at me
as rivals
daring me to express what I feel
daring me to wound

And I relish the chance
but not without protection

January, 2007

The Trickle

I sit in loneliness in isolation in want near despair
with little hope
All the while I hear a trickle a reminder background
music
I am out of food out of booze nearly out of heating
oil so the water trickles
To prevent the pipes from freezing a practical step in
a life impractically lived

The white noise of worry drowned out by the trickle
The desire to cry out and to moan in despair drowned
out by the trickle
The sighs the whimpers the pacing the staring in the
mirror drowned out by the trickle
Muttering talking lamenting singing a catatonic silent
chant drowned out by the trickle

The trickle reminds me of the small gradual death of
an attempted life
The trickle reminds me of the drip drip drip of an
existence barely room temperature
The trickle reminds of of my failure of my loss of my
weakness of my sad life
The trickle reminds me of my desire to do better to
improve to keep my chin up

Some days the trickle seems like a torrent the
troubles all wash over in one mighty stream
I'm drowning I think submerged vision cloudy hearing
muffled dark undertow
Got to make it to the top or no one will notice no has
noticed I can't swim
Then it subsides and I'm back on dry land giving
thanks then I hear the trickle

January, 2007