The skies speak of the sobered tonight,
in a realm where people often forget,
they forget what it feels like
to be inebriated,
about thoughts that keep us up after hours–
rolling hills, rural for its length, alternating
open pastures and trees;
I stare blankly and resume eating the fruit
that lies in a bowl before me.
A bottle of rosé then catches my eye;
strawberry red and appealing,
I falter,
for I never whisper its name in the dark
nor drink amidst mud and flowers,
what if I lose perspective,
what if I gain deeper insight, are just few
of the questions that cross my mind.
Is it possible that this bottle with
a narrow neck and mouth has something to say?
Suddenly, the throat is full of fire,
and cold earth
that once used to be underfoot, evaporates.
I am surrounded by puffy white clouds,
alone and coveted.
If only, I could paint undertones,
would describe the duel between darkness
and light,
skeletal faces believing hope to not exist
and winged warriors
circulating as though a season of chance,
it is surreal to be honest.
To the tune of a paper heart willing to
compose,
there appears an orchestra playing
with great panache–
it consists of a couple of guitars, a bass,
an accordion, drums and a fiddle
that conveys messages to the dead,
I, reminded of the label on the bottle of rosé,
gasp in response;
“chateau d’esclans whispering angel,”
it hears the words we don’t say
and the ones we breathe out before stepping into
the afterlife.
This dreamscape of an ode, points out, that
if one chooses to believe, then so be it.
Who’s to say what is or isn’t possible these days.
Photo credits: Wineglass near ripe grapes on textile, Pexels.
Grace is our lovely hostess on dVerse where she invites us to write
“Bottled Poetry.” Come join us! 💙💙
Posted for Poetics: Bottled Poetry @dVerse Poets Pub
38 Responses
I feel sometimes that wish to fall to the temptation of the bottle, but it’s lure only give a short relief… it may often be thousandfolds worse the day after.
Absolutely! Thank you so much, Bjorn 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄💙
Beautifully written, Sanaa, addressing all the senses. I especially love the way you wonder about whether he ‘bottle with a narrow neck and mouth has something to say’ and then describe the effects of wine as it is drunk:
‘Suddenly, the throat is full of fire,
and cold earth
that once used to be underfoot, evaporates’
and its effect on someone not used to drinking.
Awww gosh! Thank you so much, Kim 😍 so glad you enjoyed it 💄💙
opening that bottle really opened up verse 3 – beautifully imaginative and feeling quite drunk on the many lovely lines of imagery.
“This dreamscape of an ode” sigh!
Thank you so much, my dearest Laura 😀 so glad you liked it 💄💙
I love drinking socially but it can get to the point where it is over my head and I get dizzy. I adore the details of the surreal dreamscape, because if I get tipsy I can hear music and voices in my head. I can relate if one needs to escape from the realities of life via drinking. Love that fire in my throat – when I am drinking a margarita though.
Thank you so much, Grace 😍 so glad the poem and its imagery appealed to you 💄💙
A sensory delight, Sanaa!
I love,
“they forget what it feels like
to be inebriated,
about thoughts that keep us up after hours”
And so true–
“Who’s to say what is or isn’t possible these days.”
Awww gosh! Thank you so much, Merril 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄💙
These words made me smile
“there appears an orchestra playing
with great panache– ”
…and oh my yes….one sip and she’s in another world!
Thank you so much, Lillian 😍 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄💙
it has been a while since I was last tipsy but you description reminded me of the appeal it once held.
great imagery.
Thank you so much, Rog 😀 so good to see you 💄💙
It’s one drink for me, that’s it! I loved this Saana: “for I never whisper its name in the dark
nor drink amidst mud and flowers,
what if I lose perspective,
what if I gain deeper insight, are just few
of the questions that cross my mind.
Is it possible that this bottle with
a narrow neck and mouth has something to say?” Brilliant!!
Thank you so much, Colleen 😀 so glad the poem and its imagery appealed to you 💄💙
“Suddenly, the throat is full of fire,
and cold earth
that once used to be underfoot, evaporates.”
These lines are so strong! A wonderfully crafted poem, thank you for sharing… great take on the prompt!
Thank you so much, Miriam 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄💙
“it is surreal to be honest. ”
Luv this contemplative poem Sanaa
Much💖love
Thank you so much, Gillena 😀 so good to see you 💄💙
Magical, this “bottle of rosé then catches my eye” and ours!
Thank you so much, Dora 😀 so glad you enjoyed it! 💄💙
A beautiful poem of finding messages in and on the bottle of Rose! Well done Sanaa. You closing lines took me to the Beetles and “Let it Be”
Thank you so much, Dwight 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄💙
“If only, I could paint undertones,
would describe the duel between darkness
and light,
skeletal faces believing hope to not exist
and winged warriors
circulating as though a season of chance,”
❤️
Thank you so much, Melissa 😀 so glad the poem and its imagery appealed to you 💄💙
I was just reading somewhere about Whispering Angel rose, where was that? Your poem so captures the evocative name.
Thank you so much, Alexandra 😀 so glad you liked it 💄💙
This reads to me like the stream of consciousness of a lonely person eating and drinking alone. There’s sadness in it. Maybe that’s just my feeling about opening a bottle of wine just for me.
Thank you so much, Jane 🙂 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄💙
Who’s to say what is or
isn’t possible these days.
There definitely are lots of matters possible these days. Uncertainties in abundance may trigger things off from any direction to make them possible!
Hank
Absolutely! Thank you so much for stopping by to read, Hank! 💄💙
The Greeks called wine “the fiery drink of the black mother” for one had to take its blessings as carefully as any other mortal encounter with divinity. The cool sweet whisper of this blushed angel is convincing, for better and ill. You regard that circling its goblet, carefully admiring the divinities lurking there.
Thank you so much, Brendan 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄💙
Yes, the bottle has something to say … whether we listen/consume in moderation or in excess is the fine line we straddle. Your poem is beautiful on a grand scale and chock full of wisdom. I would love to hear you read it.
That second stanza is so poignant, Saana. I love how you gave the bottle a personality.
I’d say that bottle did have something to say! A very cool poem, enchanting.
“This dreamscape of an ode, points out, that
if one chooses to believe, then so be it.”
“If only, I could paint undertones,
would describe the duel between darkness
and light,
skeletal faces believing hope to not exist
and winged warriors
circulating as though a season of chance,
it is surreal to be honest. ”
Some gorgeous language and wise words here, Sanaa.