Drunk on Dreams

I started writing something dark for the season, but this insisted on being born instead. I should've kept drinking I think.

I don't know if it was after

or maybe it was before.

Time is just not right here

no ceiling, no f'in floor.

maybe it was the darkness

or pale skin from the moon.

Whatever did create this

has left us way too soon.

The blackness of the chimney 

the red rose almost sings.

sharpened thorns lost pity

and stung my head in rings.

We stand and shiver on carpet

lost in this place unkind

we never tried to stop it

this house made from my mind.

Dripping stairs all pooling up

fathom laughter  unaware.

in shuffles the drooling cup

with full and chasmed stare.

Angel wings and druid past

hanging in our balance.

Built decayed, not to last

my twisted pent up palace.

What should be love, not loss

is now dried bones in cancer.

longing lasts in maiden toss

no ringing phones could answer.

We'd spent this hot cold night

in glowing mildewed dreams.

We all knew soon it wasn't right

but all too late it seems.

For though it was creation

from a God forever poor,

We once bold, lost all sensation

while looking for a door.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A nice flow of thoughts in the poem. Took me to many places and thoughts.
"Angel wings and druid past
hanging in our balance.
Built decayed, not to last
my twisted pent up palace"
The ending made the poem complete. Some doors cannot be found. Thank you for the excellent poetry.
Coyote'

[Blue Ivory]

Dark...it sends chills down my spine! You are so good at description! You've mastered the art of painting beautiful pictures in the readers' minds.

[Mark]

Thank you dear :D. I wrote this as a nonsensical journey in an inebriated mind. I'd just finished reading a steam punk novel that influenced the style.

[Blue Ivory]

Cool :D

[Mary]

Mark, this is amazing. You are a master wordsmith!

[Andrew N. Farrens]

YES! THIS IS WONDERFUL! NEED I WRITE MORE!?!?!?

"Dripping stairs all pooling up
fathom laughter unaware.
in shuffles the drooling cup
with full and chasmed stare.

Angel wings and druid past
hanging in our balance.
Built decayed, not to last
my twisted pent up palace.

What should be love, not loss
is now dried bones in cancer.
longing lasts in maiden toss
no ringing phones could answer."

OUTSTANDING!

.A.N.F.

100/100

[Mia]

"I don't know if it was after
or maybe it was before.
Time is just not right here
no ceiling, no f'in floor."
I love love love the way you started this poem! The darkness seems to have drawn me in. I enjoyed this.

[Mark]

Thank you my dear friend! :)

[de_maruf]

fine
i liked it

[Mockingbird]

sounds like a very dark 'night before christmas' in rhythm and rhyme. has a sense of loss and despair.

[Mark]

That was unintentional but you are right. Hadn't noticed that.

[lee von cleef]

Drunk Dreams are even real after you get sober, Hard to get people to believe your hang over is from a dream.But I am a believer.

[Claire Twinn]

I love the creepy unreal feeling here- I would be desperatly searching for a door here too! I think it's good you held back on the drink, but maybe some drink was a good thing here!
The cancer bones verse is a little confusing to me too. What's a maiden toss?

[Mark]

Well, the idea was to sort of project images from a mind into a structure. the cancer reference is about something being eaten away by decay, maiden toss a loose reference to a heart being tossed about by love interests.