Monday, September 22, 2008

A Daughter's Lamentation

He sits by the phone,
wondering who might answer.
Drunk again, he weaves in and out of awareness -
commiserating with loneliness.

Carefully plotting to get a willful listener,
he cries into his glass of vodka,
practicing his sorrow to avoid
the familiar dial tone.

This morning he was a man of
brilliance and insight -
the smartest I have ever known

Yet by nightfall,
his slurred recitations
and redundant belligerance
has stripped him naked.

He remains a has been -
an old, tired, drunk,
who lost his soul
to a bottle of illusions.


Anonymous said...

The poem very effectively conveys the feeling of despair and sorrow.

And thanks to your flashplayer, I have become a big Sarah Bettens fan. Thanks!

S.L. Corsua said...

Writing this close to home is hardly an easy task, but it does serve as a medium for release. I empathize, whole-heartedly, with the daughter.

Been reading past poems, too. Oh I so enjoyed the one entitled "Lost." The candor and the approximation of sentiment are riveting. Cheers.