Ode to Alcohol

 You take the first drink

And you barely notice

The world has not changed

Just a drink with friends

Lost in the flow of conversation

 

You take another drink

Uncaring, unconcerned, so easy

And you talk some talk

And the worries still nibble you away

But you don’t know and you don’t care

 

Third drink comes so natural

Who’s counting? It’s a good time

Holding your life at bay

For just a little longer

Bottled sanity

 

You have no worries, no reality

Everyone does it

It’s no big deal

We all need to have some fun

Doesn’t mean you need it to cope

 

Four and five are down

Time for six

Yesterday you worried

Now you feel great

Can’t have too much happy

 

It’s not one too many if it feels so good

The world has altered just enough

It looks a little different

Tongue a little looser

Confident, relaxed

 

It’s not poison if it makes you better

The liquor is your medicine

At least for tonight

Your tonic for the soul

Enough, enough… but maybe one more?

 

Seventh drink, you’re a little unsteady

But it’s all good fun

Another down,

Another to go,

That’s how it goes after all

 

Eight drinks in and you feel the lurch

As your world moves to a darker place

Slightly sick in the stomach

Who’s having a good time now?

But this is a party that you can’t leave

 

You committed now

Committed to react the only way you know how

So as it gets darker, and woozier

You only know one way out

But it’s the same exit you took already

 

So you keep drinking

Knowing you can fight through this phase

Knowing you’re not going to turn around now

The glass is a sacrament

The bottle your altar

 

Nine drinks and you love it and hate it

Now you’re getting to the truth

Now you know yourself

And those around you

And you see their every shadow

 

So do you like this place you created?

You can’t know in the haze

Now you’re not celebrating

You’re punishing yourself

And calling it leisure

 

As you pour number ten

The whispers of disquiet get louder

The trickle of the liquor becomes a roar

Drowning out any protest

Alcohol, like DNA, exists only to perpetuate itself

 

You drink while it consumes you

A roller-coaster without brakes

You’re no longer enjoying it

But you cannot get off this ride

And you don’t know why

 

And so there go eleven and twelve

Heading for the only thing that can stop this possession

The thing you set out to achieve and avoid

Complete submission...

The floor.

Reviews

[SpokenWord]

I am glad I no longer drink like this, no more worshiping the porcelain goddess in the bathroom of some nasty bar, or taking a chance behind the wheel, no more falling and waking up wondering how did I get here in the first place. Age comes wisdom for some and now a drink is simply a drink and not to get drunk.

I was thinking the person in this poem is going to alcohol poisoning . I do love the ending of the poem complete submission ... the floor. LOL that was funny and when this happens to someone we often get our magic markers out and begin to draw on them to remind them in the morning that they past out.

[Amila Jay]

Excellent write! like the way you ended the poem!!

[dieuxsansculte]

I grew up as the son of a violent, alcoholic father, and I consider myself lucky for a lesson learned the easy way. The example I was shown in my youth convinced me never to start what he could never stop, that is, until it killed him.

Great write. It needed to be said, and it needs to be heard. Let's hope there are people listening.

[Chris]

You're never drunk til you are and thenfew admit it and on the spiral goes...

Good thought, flow, content and real.

Take care
Chris

[Laughing-Bear]

My Dear Writing Friend Zoe,
Your poem gave me goose bumps, as it was a clear case of déjà vu! I have been there and done that. My posted poem 1984 speaks of my slow tailspin towards destruction. Though I did not start off my journey as a fun exercise to be social, mine was an attempt to block out the preverbal demons brought on by P.T.S.D., but the end was the same.
Your lines “The glass is a sacrament, the bottle your altar” ring so true. You wake up one day and if brave enough to be honest with yourself realize your now a servant of King Alcohol. King Alcohol has taken over and you’re powerless against this monster. The cravings consume you. There are only the three UP’s left. To be locked UP, covered UP, or some how get sobered UP.
The line “A roller-coaster without brakes”, speaks volumes. Your hate your self and pour a fifth down the sink, swearing that this is the last, you will never drink again. And by days end you find your self-buying another fifth. And as you stated so well, “But you cannot get off this ride, and you don’t know why”! Finally some hours later you close your eyes and ready your self for tomorrows roller-coaster ride. And you did not fall asleep, you’ve passed-out!
Your final verse states it this way. “Heading for the only thing that can stop this possession, the thing you set out to achieve and avoid, complete submission..., the floor”. Only about two percent in Alaska when they hit their floor or as I call it the bottom, actually get help and sober UP. The rest go to jails, mental wards, or their heath fails or they die some hideous way, and we lower them six feet down. The small percentages that do make it find a life so worth living. But as I wrote in my posted poem The Devils Brew & An Ode to J.N. the Co-Author, recovery is not for those who have the need; it’s for us who want it, daily working to be freed. My co-author quit working daily to be freed and tailspun in flames towards terra firma.
This for me the best work I have read of yours to date. It speaks truth with word brush strokes on a canvas that is so true to life it seemed you have taken an actual picture and posted it. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. I say your four hundred and thirty nine word poem has caught on film a documentary movie, an alcoholics life when were headed at a full run towards the gates of hell and its host, very well done my friend.

Blessings, Laughing-Bear

[Kenneth The Poet]

And yet, we undergo this kind of selected lobotomy because we want to be released into the land of euphoria for all time. Survival is a side effect of sin.

[George Korolog]

"nine drinks and you're getting to the truth." Loved that phrase. And I loved the potential of the metaphor of alcohol as life confronting one in an almost seductive way, until, it has overwhelmed you and then, "complete submission." This could also be read as we only and finally know how to look up when we are completely beyond help. It's a very nice piece that can be read on many different levels. Enjoyed this.

[Poeticadia]

This is an awesome waterfall of words tumbling into the addiction of alcohol... leading to the very lowest point... "the floor". Unfortunately, some never get up again. Alcohol is a devious drug.

[Ruth]

Intoxication has no bounds, we think it can be controlled and the truth is, it never can...depending on how we abuse it, I guess! This is a potent poem love, you take the harsh qualities that need addressing and do it well! xx

[ice]

I watched three of my uncles lives go this way as I grew up..none of theirs got better for doing so, all ended up in "Complete submission...The floor"
I got drunk on one occasion..just to see what my friends saw in it...what I saw in them after that was that they were stupid...

"You drink while it consumes you
A roller-coaster without brakes"

That's what it felt like, and that is not fun to me.

I drink red wine, or a beer or two each day...guess I am lucky, I don't crave more that that..
enjoyed reading the poem, thnak you Zoe