Alcoholism

The Mess You Left Behind

Folder: 
Poems.

Unsure how to process,

I am living on the edge of forgotteness,

While today, taking out the trash,

Nearly gave me whiplash,

To the past I found myself agazed,

Upon the rough, unforgettable haze,

Containing the choices you have made,

And how I just try my best to wade,

Through the pain,

That left a permanent stain,

And through the disappointment,

That took my enjoyment,

The person that lived in that room,

The one that lacked a broom,

That person was not you,

At least not the one I ever knew,

Having kept that aspect of you separate from my mind,

It was easier to have your role clearly be defined,

But now there's another person that's been along for the ride,

And it takes strength to learn to coincide.

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Stepping Up

Stepping Up

By JFarrell

 

 

The last time I worked was 31st March 2000

This Sunday, 6th August 2017

I will be a barman at Wembley Stadium

For the start of the football season

My first day of work in a long time

 

From waste of space drunk to the FA Community Shield

In a little over three months

Can I really change? Can I make it?

Leave my alcoholism and past behind

And move into a new, brighter future?

 

The stadium seats ninety thousand people

I get anxious being around just one person

I am absolutely ‘bricking it’

But if I can cope with this

I’ll be able to cope with anything

 

I am 49 years old

Facing fears in a major way

Forcing my life into a new direction

I am stepping up to the plate

Let’s hope I don’t suck

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

come on Arsenal

Untitled

I recall your caressing my clavicles amongst some talk

of future romance and genuine joy during a brooding rainfall.

I was preoccupied with my satisfaction at not having eaten in a week, the liquor within your language,

and the dull notes of glass above us,

reluctantly expecting an upcoming episode.

This time it features an entirely new character beneath me,

ignoring the ache of my acutely protruding ribs and hip bones out of pity and hunger.

I recall your caressing my clavicles.

Ability and will profoundly differ,

as do days you’ve had a drink,

buffering for a moment all of the instances in which I should lament.

I won’t eat another pomegranate again;

my teeth, from the acid of regurgitated meals and affairs,

have become hypersensitive.

My appetite dissolved with your mind,

and I lack the time to search for it.

I recall your caressing my clavicles

 

as well as my last supper.

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new life

 17 May 2017

 

 

New Life

By JFarrell

 

 

Day 10, Year 0

And I am still sober;

Started a new job this morning,

My first job since March 2000.

My college asked me, “How do you feel about doing higher level work,

You’re obviously more than capable.”

And I am hopelessly in love;

Not bad for a waste of space drunk.

 

My body aches all over,

I feel like I got flu,

I’m not sleeping well,

When I do sleep, I wake to find my bed soaked with sweat,

I’m eating poorly,

Quick snack when I remember I’m hungry,

And one out every three snacks stays down;

Like I said, waste of space drunk.

 

And I have never felt so alive,

So capable,

So powerful;

Jim,

Welcome to your new life,

And, the 21st Century.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

still sober

I hope I’ve the strength

I hope I’ve the strength

By JFarrell

 

 

I hope I’ve the strength

To continue.

To persevere,

To make 6 days sober 60 days sober

To make this try out for a job, a real job

To really change

 

I hope I’ve the strength

To keep courage,

To keep hope

If, when, I fall

To rise again and continue

Not lose heart

Not to lose faith

 

I hope I’ve the strength

For my journey

And it’s deadline

I’ve never had a dream before

I have one now

And I hope I’ve the strength

To achieve it.

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

dream

Someone

Someone

By JFarrell

 

Someone,

An amazing, beautiful, radiant

Queen,

Haloed by the very stars themselves,

Fell in love with me,

A waste of space, good for nothing drunk.

 

And I must go to her,

Half way round the world;

I must hold her tight,

I will cry tears of pure joy.

 

I will say thank you,

I will ask why, how

And I will pledge my undying love;

She is what drives me,

Her wish is my desire.

 

No longer,

A good for nothing,

Waste of space,

Drunk.

Thank you, my Valkrie battle queen.

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

please feel free to comment,mor not, it's up to you

Lesson

Lesson

By JFarrell

 

I’ve spent all my life

Crying over yesterday

Worrying over tomorrow

And

They do not matter

 

Like the sun

Breaking through the clouds

It dawned on me

Yesterday is gone

Tomorrow never comes

Now is all I

Any of us have

 

And

Though I cannot do what I want do now

If now I make a better choice

Don’t get drunk now

And keep making that better choice

In the now

A now will come when I can do

What I want to do now

 

Note: this is my 2nd day on the wagon, sober; if i make it through until Friday sober, it will be the longest time I’ve been sober in 15 years.

I wasted a lot of now, choosing to stay drunk, and I can not get all that wasted time back, I could be flying to Alabama now, if I had spent that time better

I AM NOT WASTING WHAT NOW I HAVE LEFT

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

now is all we have

Prophetic Nightmare

This anger inside has rattled my cage

I hide it in a bottle labled rage

I;m sick of its tormenting lies

As it pokes and prys

And searches for a release

It begs pretty please

I keep telling it no, but it gets harder with time

I grab a bottle of tequilla and fuck the lime

I drown my sarrows and shatter my memories

With this broken bottle I sever my arteries

Laying there feeling guilty, I let my soul leave

I sigh and mutter, I just wanted one to believe

My blood's thickening, please just cauterize

'Cause in my final thoughts I finally realize

I take a breath and start to fight

Don't give up, I can see the light

My wife and kids are there crying

Please stop, I'm not dying

Then I hear them praying a prayer

As I look down at my cold dead stare

Laying in my coffin, I know it's too late

But, then I wake up sweating, It's not my fate

I roll over to kiss my wife

She's not there, is this still my life?

" DADDY'S ROOM "

I have still never seen the inside of the room
Where you spent your winter afternoons
On the floor or on your knees
Mama said it was a part of your disease
But i could never understand


When those doors sprang open at times
You stumbled out wet and screaming for limes
No one in the house would look up or even nod
Mama would whisper, "it's just something he forgot."
But i could never understand


The music of Billie Holiday blasting a private concert
I could hear you mumbling and fumbling for every word
When i asked uncle Mickey about the strange smell
Mama would cut in with, "Tequila, it's the juice from hell!"
But i was so young, I could never understand

 

One day a loud popping sound cut straight through the tunes
It was the first time I ever heard the silence of my Daddy's room
It was also the first time i ever saw through your door
Mama said you were sleeping but i saw the blood and the gun
And you on the floor
I was young but somehow i knew
It was time
To grow up...

 

 

 


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