My stream of consciousness
has gone dry.
Perhaps, it will help
to wet my whistle.
No, I don't mean
I'll wash my face,
though, after a week,
it could use it…
one more round.
A friendly face
and a story
no one will remember
bring a sunshine
to a midnight heart...
and a nice
pair of legs
don't
hurt.
The band plays on beer and Jack Daniels'
and I listen on the same;
But the mix is good with or without a drink.
The unsung hero of the night runs the mixing board.
\
A sarcastic grin:
More
sincere
than a sexy smile
for it begs nothing
but says so much.
Perhaps, I'll believe
the latter
when I've had
more to drink,
but the former gets a tip
because it's easier
on my mind.
It's A Grand Old Name
Mary, bring me
drinks from the shelf.
Mary, bring me
pain from the past.
Cursed by these memories
that shine in sparkling eyes;
Cursed by these memories
that linger
as I watch you
walk away.
Ever will there
be a memory
to blur the vision
of these
lovely girls before me.
Ever will laughter
be slightly thinner
as it echoes through
the bar,
because I do not
hear you share it.
And heavy is my conscience,
because I let it weigh me down.
Ever do I rob
the present
with imaginings
of the past.
Or is it just the rum?
Hens cackle in the distance.
Alas,
he blew out our candle.
I guess we'd better leave. 
I wonder
if this tavern's memories
will last much longer
than its beers.
I wrote a poem
to you
and now you're dead.
Did I kill you?
I might have helped.
For you were killed
by one who admired you,
and surely I did that.
I feel so sad.
I feel so guilty.
I feel so helpless.
I feel so cheated.
(I feel so thirsty)
Faces from the past stare at me in
disbelief.
But, ya know,
I just stare back and laugh.
Even if they would listen,
I could never explain.
I don't want to try.
I just find someone else 
to stare at;
because I am part
of someone else's past too
and they owe me an explanation
that I don't want to listen to.
Daydreaming
when the weather
gets warm;
feeling lonely,
and yet I sit still
and watch the beauties
flit before me
and keep the thoughts
that muddle my
brain
to myself,
"I think
I need
a drink."
So many thoughts
race through.
So many feelings
(rage and peace
to let out;
to scribble on a page.
But it is raining...
I think
I need
a drink.
Knobbee kneed 
and staggering,
I smile as I sway
for here are friends`
and here are
strangers
for
my poems.
And I take them home
to commit them to print
and hold them on paper
and in my heart.
Pokeberry,
that mystic elixir
stirred by vestal virgins
and sampled in a drunken haze,
is just a myth
to delude the conservationists
and fool the inebriated
into believing
the cook
and owner
and the pretty girl behind the counter
who says, "It's good for you."
Wisdom mixed
with so many
beers
makes me wonder
if I heard it all; 
But, as I drink
another swallow,
I know I get
the most of it.
And, after all,
that's all you can do
in life;
Try to get the most of it.
One should always be
drunk, that is all that matters.
So as not to feel time's
horrible burden
that breaks your shoulders
and bows you down,
you must get drunk without
ceasing.
But with what?
With wine, with poetry or
with virtue, as you choose
but get drunk.
And if at some time,
on the steps of a palace,
or in the green grass of
a ditch,
or in the bleak solitude
of your room,
you are waking up and drunkenness
has already abated,
ask the wind, a wave, the
star, the bird, the clock,
all that which flees,
all that which rolls,
all that which groans,
all that which sings,
all that which speaks...
ask them what time it is.
And the wind, the wave,
the star, the bird, the clock will reply,
"It is time...
to get drunk."
So that you may not be the
martyred slaves of time, get drunk.
Get drunk and never pause
for rest,
with wine, with poetry,
or with virtue,
as you choose.
- Charles Baudelaire
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The
song playing is Wings', "Picasso's Last Words (Drink To Me)" and was found
at Daveweb's MIDI
Meltdown.
Photographs by Rick LeBlanc, effects by Hoeffmeir Publishing Company (1999)
except unknown origin of Nina Hartley photo, barmaid4.jpg COPYRIGHT ©
1997 MICHAEL J. LESSNER, Irene (Mary) from the Judy
and Martin Pages, and, actually, a good number of other pictures
which were unattributed. I just found them by searching the web and
we "doctored" them. They fit my memories...I hope they fit yours.
[No offense, legal or personal, is intended and any picture will promptly
be removed or credited if the original artist notifies me.]