When does the here and now
Delineate between the there and then?
When does the anesthesia of the wine
Combat the pain of the horrible grief?
When does the hope for numbness,
Relaxation, bliss, and floating,
Come up against the creativity,
The concept of more, the knowing it’s too much?
When do the questions
That plague each soul and entity,
Cease to be productive,
End with a repetitive?
Tired of the constant questions,
Tired of the enigma,
Tired of the ambiguity,
I rest in the lull of alcohol.
It is easy to see,
How so many creatives
Have used substance to quiet
The constant roaring of the mind.
I need peace and quiet,
Stillness and calm,
Please show me relaxation
And peacefulness, the now, the end.
Does that mean I will succumb
To the negatives of the physical?
Isn’t that what dying is?
Isn’t that what we all become?
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