Hope Gone, Words Lost

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Blood is said to be thicker than water
But not in this instant
NO
Not in this moment of dark shadows
In this moment each fallen tear marks stains
Stains deeper than blood from crimson red fingers pen stabbed sore
Words however small would not come
Thoughts however hazy will not form
Family and blood ties offer no motivation
Words would not come
A most unusual muse offers no comfort…
Vodka and tonic are like water in the shadow of two nights
Fingers shake and cry blood
Shot glasses stack high in cigarette butt
Eyes red with unshed tears as the first cock crows
Clarity unfound in the last drop…

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49 responses »

  1. I always have trouble discerning when someone is being creative and when someone is in stress–I am going to assume you were both when you wrote this–it is both powerful and distressing–I have been there–you will find your way out

    • Thank you so much. Yes I think it’s a blend of both…I wrote it back in June and found it a few nights ago and somehow it felt fresh. It’s been a stressful couple of weeks, but holding my head up and praying things ease up soonest.

      Thank you so much, I sincerely appreciate this

  2. Boomie, your words move me as always…here for chats if you need them, if this is just your muse…well I’m also here for chats cos you are ace! X

  3. Well….. seems you are searching my dear Boomie, only you know for what. Often what we are looking for is just a side glance away.
    Then again perhaps you are portraying someone else within the beauty of poetry. Resa ♥♥♥♥

  4. OMG with the DOPENESS… I see you :)

    “A most unusual muse offers no comfort…
    Vodka and tonic are like water in the shadow of two nights
    Fingers shake and cry blood
    Shot glasses stack high in cigarette butt”

    • Thanks so much. You know I wrote this poem in June, and a few nights ago I was looking through my notes and saw it…I was surprised that I had written something like that, and thought to share it :).

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