To Stand Aghast at Poetry

I awoke to discover a Monday morning
quite unlike no other, and wondered if at first
I had fallen into the abyss of a dream,
that dared to reunite me with the binding tides
of familial foundations. To the left of me
my mother sat, a smile wider than any crevasse,
and more moist than any ocean
written on her face, as she proclaimed
that I wake up to drink the rays
of the rising dawn. To the right,
my father stood, with the physical resemblance
of a toad, after having recently returned
from rehabilitation, where he had spent
his last five years for being beyond inebriated.
A bottle of intoxicating liquid
sat upon the dresser, not far from his reach,
the beverage already having offered enough drops
to fill the glass in hand. ‘I like to look at it’
he answered, whilst masticating away,
after having noticed the doubt
caught between my eyes,
and although there was much I wanted to do
during the hours of this day, I realized,
what kind of man would I be to deny my heritage
the opportunity to discover
what had become of their only son?
These parents of mine, who had consumed
the identities of academic modernists,
were incredibly impressed to learn
about my conquering of university endeavors,
but when they uncovered the roots
of occupational ambition, exhausted after years
of well earned triumph, their expressions
plied me with the knowledge
on how their happiness was halted
by such allegation and slight.
‘I have decided to become a poet’
I produced with a winning smile,
to those who provided me professional morals,
their cheerfulness having capsized
in the uproar of emotional intensity.
My mother stifled a cry; her voice
was now completely gone as my father stood aghast.
‘Oh honey’ my mother managed, her solemn tears
almost seeming inappropriate, ‘you poor thing’,
fearful of how I had been betrayed
by misguided thought. My father on the other hand,
after having bat an eyelid,
drowned his stupendous sorrows
in the emotionally quenching liqueur,
before beginning on the bottle,
and no force in the universe
could stop this occurrence from coming to fruition.

This poem is not entirely truthful, so please dear readers, don’t leave this blog thinking my family is really that deranged. Thanks for reading!  😀

About totalovrdose

I am an online journalist, video game reviewer, mental health advocate and post graduate university student. I am a massive video gaming geek; a lover of intellectual conversations; an award winning procrastinator; a devilishly charming nuisance and the definition of 'fun' (sometimes). My blog is filled with many a soporific love poem, and is simply the beginning in my quest to become a published author. Please stop by and say 'Hi!' (that rhymes!) :D

Posted on April 8, 2014, in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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