Life on the Rocks

Tristan Robert Lange


Notice of absence from Tristan Robert Lange
Life is full of seasons. This is a season of transition for me, where I will be moving with my family to a new location. As such, with much logistics to consider, I am doing my best to keep up. Please know if I accidentally don't respond, it is not because I am ghosting or becoming distant. Once things settle after the move, I am sure life will return to some normalcy. In the meantime, and always:

Read 👓, Write ✍️, Rise 🌅, Realize 🤯.

Tristan 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦‍⬛

Been staring out this window,
Hours passed, still staring,
Contemplating, hesitating
As my life flashes before me.

I pour another glass of life
On the rocks, served cold
Like the day's temperature;
It goes down like frostbite.

Then the flare, the warmth,
The false sense of security
Is as intoxicating as the hope that
I'm worth more alive than dead.

It's a long way down,
The bottom, the sudden stop,
The mercurial descent...
It's closing time — perhaps tomorrow.

  • Author: Tristan Robert Lange (Offline Offline)
  • Published: April 2nd, 2017 00:40
  • Comment from author about the poem: This is an old one and certainly not reflective of me now. All is well, but...have you ever had one of those days, weeks, years?
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 34
Comments +

Comments2

  • Goldfinch60

    Good write. I do like the picture I too put granite cubes in my scotch, don't want to water it down.

  • Garry

    Wonderful stuff: the poem as well as the whisky.
    No ice, served at room temperature with a splash of wate, . (unless its a very mild one). and then all the volatiles are released.. Beautiful smell, beautiful taste.



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