Safe haven.

[mnaz]

I drink too much, think too much and such,
engage in habits two, three steps from ruin,
one, two turns from disaster, but I feel well.
I shalt soundly defeat the mighty dragon thou shalt.
I shalt deal the cards, knocked on my idealistic ass,
hung over by that mere whore of potential,
accustomed to the morass.
Safe haven, at last.

I could be as strong and logical as strength and logic,
like rhythms of same whose rights were given up awhile ago.
For all I know, I could put the hammer down.
I could listen to a million politicians, bent
on saving what never needed to be saved,
like one more unnoticed sunset, no. 5-4-3,
accustomed to the morass.
Safe haven, at last.

I feel at home, here.

[Zlatko Waterman]

Great ending, MZ. The line about putting the hammer down is also fine.

You write a good drunken poem.

I used to write hangover poems, I suppose because I didn't have the strength or coherence to write drunk.


--Z

[mnaz]

I do that too.

Selfish of me, this regenerative scrawl....

[joel]

For all I know, I could put the hammer down.

Safe haven, at last.

For all I know, we could all put down the hammer. So why don't we? Do we need to? Putting down the hammer isn't what makes the haven safe; being able to lift the hammer and knowing it is possible to lay it down again seems somehow integral to safety. Something like mercy.

Awesome read.