Last night, I went to a party and drunk more than I intended to (I REGRET NOTHING). Anyway, a friend of mine suggested I write a poem, I might be surprised. This was written by an intoxicated me (but not drunk enough to have a hangover, so I’m okay) so yeah. It sounds stupid. OKAY. I should really go back to studying for my exam now.
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ODE TO BACARDI
The myth of a thousand splendid suns
suspended in a bottle of glass both clandestine and pure
liquid sunlight
trapped in the result of a tedious process
its amber rays radiating heat
from my throat
to the inner workings of my soul
like porridge on a snowy day
or hot cocoa on a rainy night
It is the last remnance of brightness I see
before darkness engulfs it.
Or so I think.
But its heat travels
and warms me
enough for my body
to send forth salty liquid in reply
like a courtship dance
when he finally magnetizes a she from her shell
the bottled sun leads me to think
everything is unreal
It glimmers innocently
a magic potion
with a hint of the stars beneath its surface
And even by glancing at it
you know
it is not something to ignore
and there you go
becoming the sun’s attracted *something, I can’t read my handwriting*
And though all of this is strange
You know it to be true
So necromancer, pray tell,
what golden power is this
and you smile enigmatically
and somehow that is enough
for though we are mere acquaintances
its heat will remain in my belly
and its vibrance in my heart.
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I dedicate this to every person who has ever gotten tipsy/drunk and knows exactly what I mean with this poem. *bow*
