Where I have my tarot cards,
my laptop,
and apparently all the wine
in the state,
locked up inside my throat.
I am a rambling maniac,
afraid of sleep, afraid to
wake,
suffocating myself
with my own pillows,
in remote landscapes of
infertile carpets and
cardboard boxes.
Is there anything that
satiates me?
Or is this all the condemning
salvation I have left?
shrinks arent cheap 
my messy floor
always indicates
my active mind
~
never clean
never boring
thank you for poetry, always!!
In reference to your recent Merlot night? 🙂
Was wondering what the cardboard boxes were doing there. I would have used them to build a castle fort, but perhaps you use them for other things.
Let’s definitely build a fort! They are just storing stuff…
thank you for putting words to an experience i feel close to, as well. oh, the nights i’ve spent with my cards and my laptop and my distractions on the ground…
This tersness is very strong and defining…an excellent poem.
Incredible piece. Maybe even my favorite yet. I especially loved this ending:
“Is there anything that
satiates me?
Or is this all the condemning
salvation I have left?”
I am familiar with these thoughts…
I’m afraid NOT to sleep, and I wish I could drink red wine freely. Still loving reading your excellent poetry.
I love reading yours, as well, dear one.
‘afraid to sleep’ seems to strike a nerve with me – seems the older i get the easier it becomes [getting to sleep that is]…enjoying your work
Such great lines.
“all the wine
in the state,
locked up inside my throat.
&
suffocating myself
with my own pillows,
in remote landscapes of
infertile carpets”
Tarot cards…love them, have about fifty different packs I think…do you have a favourite version/artistry? Wonderful poem too, as always, of course, but the opening topic also caught my eye! 🙂
Salvation builds within, but needs to wait for the wine to exit so it can find room.
Salvation lies in my tumbler.
Ramble on, maniac! I want your blood!
There it is. Salvation is always through blood.
There’s nothing to condemn, salvation or not. Ramble on…
There is no doubt, You know how to knit words. I love your poetry.
Very good as usual.
thank you
Damn, now I have to write a poem called “To All Recovering Baptist Girls With Tarot Cards Under Their Beds.”
YOU are welcome ; )
I can’t wait to read it!
Thank you, and here you go!
http://susandanielspoetry.com/2013/03/27/to-all-recovering-baptist-girls-with-tarot-cards-under-their-beds/
does anyone have any salvation left to themselves ?
great poem
thank you. great question.
So, this is a really good poem, pitch-perfect pacing, builds upon itself, killer last couplet. Kudos!
thanks!
No Sufi there is no extinguishing of your thirst
You must keep drinking and carry the burden first
Of your purity and love and soul
It is overwhelmingly full and yet empty
So then where is you stick and a bowl
Ask the passerby reader to fill it
Then try to patch this insignificantly finitely big hole
Yet filling it makes you feel empty
This is you Sufi
There is no thirst you can satiate
🙂
thank you for poetry, all of it true.
Thank you…pleasure is all mine