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Poetry / Through A Drink
The downfall of the drink,
The loneliness that is only elongated by the after effects of sleeping through a day,
Hung over and unwanted,
The daunting task of waking alone,
Left with only your mind to think and ponder,
To dwell upon the thoughts and after thoughts in your cell,
The process that each of us must go through to find out who we are.
Now far from where we came from,
Far from the small towns of CT and MA,
Far from the cornfields of the Midwest, and the cold hell of the north,
The clouded conservative mindset of the south or the cites of the west.
We are not where we came from,
We are the amount of channels we had growing up,
We are the movies we have seen, and the songs we have sung,
We are the people we have known, and the clothes we wear,
We are not our parents,
We are not the 60’s or the 90’s,
We are not metro phonies who subscribe to alternative press,
We are our own generation!
We are the New Poets;
The poor and the bored,
The junkies and the scorned,
We are the madness created by us,
A madness created to enable us to reach a place of happiness,
We are a generation of longing,
Longing to be seen, and to be found,
To be sound in the fact that we know who we are, but not what we are,
To know what we want but have no idea of where it is,
To make our mark on the world but we can not decide which marker to use,
We are the ones with too many choices,
“you can be whatever you want to be”
This is our slogan and this is our protest.
The best have come to the fire only to burn out with the rest,
The west is no longer a refuge but a place of creative demise,
Destroyed by the same hippie, now yuppie’s that started it,
A revolution only to be ignited and then later used as a marketing scheme,
Surrounded by a masterpiece of beauty and nature,
That we only truly appreciate when we are passed out in her gardens,
Drunk with pleasure, or drunk to escape.
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Loba reviewed Version 1 -
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I absolutely adore the progression of this poem. It moves from the personal to the communal. At the end of the first stanza I thought it was going to be about “the walk of shame” done by so many college co-eds. No, it’s about a generational “walk of shame”, or indeterminate meandering that seems to describe this generation. You do a great job capturing the ennui of America’s young adults.
There are some issues with strcuture. Some of the lines could be considered a bit two long, and the last stanza is an odd fit. I could do without its first three lines “The best have …that started it”.
Thankyou for the amazing read. I’m adding it to my favorites.
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lalajen reviewed Version 1 -
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I really adored the first stanza of this…’the downfall of the drink’...god, i could most definitly relate to that but then the piece took a different tone, almost became ‘preachy’ in a way…
I think there are still some great lines in there and perhaps if the section after that first part was shorter it would feel like it was one peice instead of a ‘preachy’ kind of piece with an introduction.
I particularly disliked ‘we are our own generation’...that’s probably where it went downhill for me but i liked ‘To make our mark on the world but we can not decide which marker to use’.
It was very well written – i guess i’m just after something more personal, that can find the enlightenment in the ordinary…like waking up alone…as opposed to something that attempts to address and define a generation.
Jaci reviewed Version 1 -
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This is really amazing.I like the part “that we only truly appreciate when we are passed out in her gardens”. I am a recovering alcohlic and could identify with your writting.Thank you for sharing it.
mimi_zou_lou reviewed Version 1 -
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Wow! I really loved this poem, its voice is so passionate and angry, you establish your tone and run with it for the entirety, and you do such a good job of that. I loved the line “We are the amount of channels we had growing up.” Great work!
theseus reviewed Version 1 -
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I like the fact that you define an identity for a group of people or, rather, list the influences that define this group of people.
I also like the somewhat jaded phrase: “A revolution only to be ignited and then later used as a marketing scheme.”
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