Slange

Drink this elixir, this poison, it will soothe you, kill you again and again, and the same s**t bullshit bromide blues will engulf and envelop and crush, and drown, and burn substance and form, ashes die in flame and all remains the same, drink this piss, it has acidic overtones and opium dreams, drink the blood and dust of war, it's potable they say, drink bile  and sputum extract from goblets of crystal and gold, from the stomachs of the sick and the old, drink this emptiness until it fills a hole and buries yer soul and seeps and leaks and drips onto the Aztec, blue, stone, cold, dead tiles of old,

Go on, take a drink, Cheers.

Reviews

[Eilis]

I’ve tried to comment on this a few times. In the end I just delete what I’ve written. Lots of words thrown to the virtual winds there. Some poems I read over and over and feel like I can’t find the correct words to square with them. Every poem is a puzzle, and it’s like my mind has to work over the words until there’s this humming and everything comes together in a coherent idea.

For me, the juxtaposition of the title to the message is the key. Of course, how I’m reading vs how it’s meant may be different. I was familiar with the Irish Gaelic sláinte, which maybe has a tad different meaning, but, I’m reading it as cheers, to your health.

I’m familiar with the road to addiction. I’ve been there myself and lived with many who have suffered. So, I understand the ways the mind works to convince that what is painful is also what’s best. The elixir/poison becoming one in the same and perpetuating in a cycle that impacts everything.

The harsh brush you’ve painted with here makes it all the more poignant, to my mind, because there is recognition, but also a kind of powerlessness, like being under a spell, that guides the action.

I’ve lived with some who never saw the addiction as it was. Life was what it was and was meant to be as such. Recognition, I suppose, can be a double-edged sword. Ignorance is bliss, as they say, while understanding can be something like the dark heart wandering through an endless forest. I don’t know. I was just moved by this.

The war, the bile, the feeding off of pain and so on. And then the invitation. It’s very strong work.

[gram linski]

it's kinda like when your out with your mates, and you've had enough, go on take a drink, but also a deeper kind of sadness that invades my nation, even when you know it will kill you in the end, might as well have a f*****g drink then

[Gee]

A very good mate of mine, clever beyond cleverness, openly admits that with enough disposable cash he would happily be an alcoholic, even though the demon drink often abets his now and again slide into depression. Love him to bits but will never truly understand him.
Thought provoking Gram.
Hope you are well.

[gram linski]

aye, no bad Gee, the scourge of a nation, dude, a nation that thinks too much about the drink, giving Whisky to the natives doon Govan way, lol, now watch them fight

[Shazbatt969]

Go on, take a drink, I can feel the golden poison as it slips and slides and f***s me wrongly in the morn, if you know what I mean,

[gram linski]

Cheers dude, I do and I do,

[Faust]

I liked this poem alot. It had a nice flow and the vocabulary was great :)

-Emily

[gram linski]

Thanks, Emily, Slange,