DRUNK
mad hippie poet 1974 (new jersey)
Those things are meant for some to understand I am drunk, but I do not hold a drink inside my hand. The angels are singing me their sweet lullaby as the starlight covers my body just like dogwood flowers cover the tree, and the darkness and the light of the moon's glow fill our eyes and my soul. I am writing the words to the script of the story of my life.
I am drunk without a drink in my hand and staring this ship into uncharted land. I have sailed many seas, but I am neither a captain nor a pirate; I am something greater I do not know what that title is yet, so I continue to travel looking for signs that may lead to answers getting drunk without a drink in my hand and wishing to forget.
A quiet mind and an open heart are all I need as my questions will always freely bleed, marking my stays and mapping out my course. What is meant to be can not be forced, for I will continue to be drunk without a drink in my hand, for I am only this simple man who holds this taste of life upon my tongue, and this spirit is not yet done.
I had you, and you had me both drunk, but neither of us with drinks in our hands. We were young and crazy. Now we are older and free, still searching for the truth, knowledge, and answers of the universe, so they say we are drunk, wanting to drink more of what they are afraid to score. Let them call us the winos of the light that quenches our thirst. The cup may be empty, but it is ours and ours alone to fill
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"DRUNK" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 20 Sep. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/157679/drunk>.
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