In Judaism, wine is for joy

Photo by Taha Samet Arslan from Pexels

High on the open bar offerings, cocktail hour hors d’ouvres,

and life, I toasted them – Noah & Hannah –

one of those couples for whom you feel unbridled

happiness. Another toast. But before the dancing started,

I was clutching the toilet like a steering wheel,

steeling myself against a swaying world.

Since then, I cannot drink wine without tasting

the sour shadow of the tides about to change.

From The Sunday Muse #185

***

Written for dVerse, The Sunday Muse, and Twiglets

80 comments

  1. A ha. You subtle so-and-so, you. We can never tell at the beginning how it will all turn out, even though we enter with high hopes. However, I some of the happy feeling from the beginning of the poem still survives through to the end. Everything doesn’t have to be pretty if it succeeds in the end.

    Liked by 3 people

  2. I guess it all changes very quicklyโ€ฆ You do have your way of making poetry interesting with those unexpected little twists! Well described, my friend. Gives even the inexperienced an idea ๐Ÿ˜‰

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you! I love throwing a twist into a poem.
      As an older person who has done many stupid things, I will give you some unsolicited advice: Media, society, etc. seem to glorify experience of any kind, but there are a lot of experiences that really aren’t worth having. You do not need to drink yourself stupid in order to produce good writing.

      Like

  3. How about whiskey? ๐Ÿ˜€

    Ya know, the first time I got really, really drunk was on Tequila – and I still don’t like the taste of it… although… I can finally drink it again (three decades later).

    โค
    David

    Liked by 1 person

  4. ” I was clutching the toilet like a steering wheel”… Have been there many times back in the day. Cider is that drink that brings back those memories *she shudders! We’ve all done it… Nice descriptive piece!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I am so sorry it took me so long to get here, but I am now….LOL I think many of us can relate to your poem for sure! Much celebrating that turns to hugging of the porcelain toilet. So glad you joined us at the Muse!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. “….. clutching the toilet like a steering wheel” is about the most pertinent description of pissed and chundering into the thunder box I have come across. It made me heave with regurgitated memories of events that will remain forever hazy in the blur of alcohol induced altered consciousness.

    Liked by 1 person

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