Cold waters

sorenbarrett

Morning on the Keys, seventy three degrees, lobster omelet with conhaque and Gruyere cheese in the shade of banyan trees
Cuban cigar on the table, Johnnie Walker blue label, pretty young wife, stole of sable, yacht moored by cable
It was winter they said, satin sheets of red spread as he lay overfed on his king-size bed, seconds into hours sped
Outside a breeze, inside him a disease, that try as you please, no one flees even sailing through the solace of these Keys
Inside no one read how he bled dread, from which he fled, that led to him putting a piece of lead in his head

Comments +

Comments13

  • nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson)

    A most interesting write my friend, is it based on a character in reality ?

    • sorenbarrett

      Thank you so much for the read Norman. No it is a mix of several things. The other day a poem on the site made me remember the poem Richard Cory by Edwin Arlington Robinson and it developed from there with memories of a wedding I went to in the Keys years ago.

      • nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson)

        I see, much enjoyed

      • orchidee

        Good write SB.

        • sorenbarrett

          Thanks so much my friend I appreciate it

        • Teddy.15

          Amazing imagery and language, it's amazing how many morals this poem has looking closely, everything pretty on the outside whilst the inside is black. Wonderful poetry dear sorrenbarret kudos on the finale. 🌹

          • sorenbarrett

            Most kind of you Teddy your generous words are appreciated my friend

          • Dionysian66

            There’s something deeply existential beneath all the luxury and beautiful scenery. You can sail as far as the horizon allows, but there is no geographical escape from the self. Powerful piece my friend.

            • sorenbarrett

              I thank you Dion for the review and interpretation of this piece it means a lot and your kind words are most appreciated my friend.

            • Paul Bell

              Yes, the sun maybe shining, the cigar cut, Jonnie Walker waiting, pretty wife in the background.
              Sadly, all of that pales into insignificance if the body is waning.
              How many would end it that way though.

            • Thomas W Case

              There’s a damn brutal contrast here, because the lobster, cigar, Blue Label, sable, yacht, and king-size bed create this obscene picture of privilege while the man inside it is quietly being eaten alive by something nobody can see. The final “piece of lead in his head” hits hard precisely because all that luxury turns out to be useless against the disease and dread, leaving the poem with the cold realization that you can sail through paradise and still be unable to escape yourself.

              • sorenbarrett

                Thomas I thank you for this review so well conceived. It hits every point and is most appreciated.

              • Lorenz

                A landscape that reminds me of Hemingway ...

                • sorenbarrett

                  Thanks so much Lorenz for the review. Yes had breakfast at the restaurante that used to be his house.

                • MendedFences27

                  A rhythmic suicide poem, now that's something new and fresh. I enjoyed the read. Sail to the keys and blow your brains out, how desperate he must have been. - Phil A.

                  • sorenbarrett

                    Thanks my friend you never know about people.

                  • Kevin Hulme

                    Richard Cory was put to Music and sang by Wings in the 70s.
                    I was thinking of Hemingway when reading this.
                    A fine Poem and a fave for sure.

                    • sorenbarrett

                      Thank you so much Kevin Yes there is a mixture there and I can see that. The Keys came to mind in that I have been to Key West and had that lobster omelet under a banyan tree. Appreciate it my friend.

                    • Tony Grannell

                      Hello, Soren,

                      Fine dinning, fine wines, big cigars and blood on the keys and the mystery lingers on. I love the choppy narrative and the abundance of rhyme, as if fired from the hip. Has a ninteen thirties/ fortyies feel about it. To tell you the truth, it's great and so entertaining. Well don indeed, my friend.

                      Fond regards,

                      Tony.

                      • sorenbarrett

                        Thanks Tony your words mean a lot and are deeply appreciated. I love that area and have a house a hundred miles of so up the road so I have been there before. Thanks for the read my friend.

                      • Butter

                        That last line- reminded me of my favorite poem. Thanks :3

                        • sorenbarrett

                          Thanks so much Butter for the read and comment it is appreciated.

                        • Tristan Robert Lange

                          Soren…damn. This felt like watching someone surrounded by everything people think should make a person happy while he’s quietly coming apart. That stayed with me. Powerful. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦‍⬛

                          • sorenbarrett

                            Thanks Tristan that means a lot. I appreciate your read and remarks my friend

                          • NafisaSB

                            A wonderful write - what lies hidden is also depicted perfectly as what is visible. 👌👌✌️



                          To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.