As many people know
I don't often drink.
Only a coke
Trying not to provoke
Any losing of self.
But now, a confession.
One night, an obsession
To play with the fates
And find new dimensions.
I sunk an equivalent
Of fifteen Black Russians
And then had a smoke
For all life was a joke
Reality was fading.
Then the nothingness came
To encircle my brain
Liberation from corporeal
Was I going insane?
My body survived
In another existence.
My mind was alone
In it's voidal cone
Savouring abstractions.
My brain was elated
A nothing had been created
But it must be admitted
I was totally wasted.
Great poem...well composed and delivered...hope your head wasn't too bad the following morning........but after 15 black russians..hard not to have the builders in banging about. Best wishes Jon
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Enjoyed your light fun topic. The trochee and the trimetre really gave it a fun and punch. very good work