The prompt I selected for today from Big Tent Poetry is to write a poem about drunkenness. I never was much of a drinker, as evidenced by my earlier poem, so I had to fall back on my best friend’s college fraternity stories. He was a Kappa Alpha, and every year the KAs (short for the Knights of Alcohol) celebrated Bacchus Day (any excuse for a good drunk). Bacchus was the Roman god of wine. A good time was had by all—until the next day.

Flicker image by genibee

by Mike Patrick

Welcome, Bacchus, my old friend,
join me at my table.
It’s grand of you to come.
My other friends seem to have disappeared.
What is there about trouble and sadness
that chases them away?
Aye, but I can depend upon you.
You are there in the wine,
always smiling up at me,
ready to lead to an empty oblivion.

Who bought this round?
You, you old rascal?
You did! I can tell by your wry grin.
Well, keep them coming, Buddy.
I’m not where I need to be . . .  yet.
A few more and I won’t care.
A few more and she will be here
or she will be gone.
I’m not sure if she was ever real anyway.
You are a good friend, Bacchus,
a very, very good . . . .

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  1. vivinfrance says:

    I still hate that feeling, but your poem is very persuasive

  2. Rough topic, well handled.

  3. trisha says:

    bacchus is not anyone’s friend.

    beautiful, touching poem mike. i feel immense sadness for people who take shelter of alcohol or drugs to escape pain.

  4. Torquethis says:

    Bacchus, and the likes of him, will sneak up on you everytime. 😉

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