wine

Gaming night: The Aftermath

‘I’ll leave you fighting your demons’
an irony that’s not wasted on me
The white grenache drips
from the lip of the bottle
as I shake the remnants
Careful not to waste a drop

We were once a ballad
you and I
a couple to be envied
So in sync and never apart
Out of choice though
Both yours and mine

Yet shared wine becomes solo
Minds working on differing levels
just as in games
We each fight our own battles
but standing apart
Different platforms – different worlds

‘It doesn’t matter’ you persist
We share the same space
Yet I have never felt further
from you – from the truth
I am more aligned with this bottle
Once filled with joy – now just an empty husk

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The First Villanelle

Oh. how to write a villanelle?

I need to be in the right mood

Perhaps a glass of Zinfandel

Would make my words seem rather swell

Or would it make them far too lewd?

Oh. how to write a villanelle?

Set up a template on Excel

And write until my flair renewed

Perhaps a glass of Zinfandel

To help fill in each empty cell

Or is this method far too crude?

Oh. how to write a villanelle?

My head becomes an empty shell

This page is just some words accrued

Perhaps a glass of Zinfandel

Ease my failure, not to dwell

Without the poem, then I’m screwed

Oh. how to write a villanelle?

Perhaps a glass of Zinfandel?

Weak Day

I couldn’t leave you like that
A crumpled heap of overused clichés
Damp and sodden with wine
Your mind over analysing
Regressing
Stretching the perforations
Scratching the threads of scars
Demonising your very existence

“You didn’t leave me,
for that I thank you,
Thankfully it wasn’t a weekday