I’m Not Immune to the Savage

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I do recall

Those savage ways of the drunk

A clueless chap

Without regard to one thing or another

Except the next drink

Each moment to him

Was fleeting and shameless

So he got away with things

Without a conscience

Only concerned about the next drink

And when the drunk lost his way

He decided to replace the drink

With serenity

Something sustainable

Without the effect of malice

And it’s been several years

Without a drink

But once in a while that awful drunk

Of a person

Comes out to wreak a little havoc

In the midst of serenity

And serenity sees him clearly

Ashamed of this un-departed drifter

A jackal, a fool, a scarcity of a soul

Still a savage

Only without a drink

But there is a way to beat him

At his own awful game

Her name is humility

I embrace her this time

Rather than resist her

She is comforting

Although she comes across

As scolding

And I tuck her in my pocket

Declaring her as my hero

And the drunk as the villain

Reminding myself once again

That I’m not immune

I’m not immune

We move forward together

Humility and me

Facing the drunk

Then leaving him behind

Without a drink

Knowing that one day

We’ll unexpectedly meet again

Merely as a reminder

Of where I’ve been

To keep me grounded

In the moment

Rather than flailing through 

My life

Without  regard to my own precious

Vulnerability

 

 

 

 

And When the Winds Bellow, Sometimes You Just Gotta Get Creative

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THE WIND IN COSTUME by J.L. Forbes

 

What if the wind weren’t a phantom?

Befitting its gusts and breezes

Suiting up before its salutation

Greeting us gently in slight formation of butterfly wings

Or abruptly like batwing twitches

Twirling toward town as a ballerina dancer

A parting stage curtain preceding winter rain

Jellyfish skirts brushing the leaves of autumn tree branches

What a sight the breeze would be

If she were the feather of God’s pen

Brushing past the sky

In cosmic calligraphy

Dressing for each blustery occasion

In the garment of dragon scales

Or the shadowy cloak of a beastly tail

If each fabric of wind reflected its temperament

Which shifty seraph impregnates sails?

Who is the playful cherub carrying my kite?

Or the mistress behind a summer wind kiss?

Whose haphazard broom sweeps past this city early in spring?

This invisible passerby

The unclothed zephyr

Forceful, considerate, impulsive, tranquil

Carries me deep into imagination

I Bury the Bottle (Poem by J.L. Forbes)

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I bury the bottle

Deep in the earth

Pour out this poison

Being high was not worth

Ignoring my essence

Drowning out pain

Hurting my loved ones

My life lived in vain

 

I bury this bottle

My life is now mine

No longer a stronghold

Time to refine

I walk away sober

Turn my back on this hell

To begin a real journey

To climb out of this shell

 

I bury this bottle

Today is the day

Not one drop of booze

To steal me away

Goodbye you ol’ havoc

A friend you were not

A liar, a cheat

From the very first shot

 

– April 21, 2011