Sober in Havana

Ok I am pushing out a new idea here. I wrote a load of poems in Cuba and I am going to put them together with some nice pretty pictures and put them together in an eBook. Hope to then have that here on the site for one and all to purchase??? Is that possible? Would somone pay .99c for 20 poems and pictures written by me? Who knows..but there is only on way to find out.

So thats what I have for you today. A sample poem, a sample picture and to top it all off, a flippin’ podcast with an oration of said sample poem!

Oooh the technology.

So without further ado, here is the poem.

Feedback be they simple one word grunts or complex poetical analysis are all wanted. I am here to be criticised and if you think it is shite, then tell me and stop me embarrassing myself in public! I wont publish your comment if you ask me not to.

So next step is hit play and listen and read.

 

Sober in Havana

 

How I thought I would be different here

More Behan or Yeats on opiates

Carousin a sordid land of liquors

Reducing tem’tresses quick to tears –

Through hazy smoky louden rooms

Ensconced in purely wet heirlooms

Lulling the locals with one wit tunes –

Dance salsa jigs with a maddening eye

Twist lovers together with lie after lie

Encoding my verse with the secrets of pi

Not sitting so quiet on the Malacon

Staring into my dreams when young

Sipping caffeine as though nothing is wrong

The sun shining high so seen and known

Shines on the seat from the throne I’ve been thrown

Where once I’d have stumbled aghast and alone

With a number remembered inside my drunk head

That I’d call at the wrong time and misdial instead

I’d curse the young harlot for being misled

To head to the next bar and do it again

When she’s at home waiting in mock idle pain

And the tolling would toxify slowly insane

The rum absolving me soul from all blame

So I’d scribble some thoughts down but then lose me book

I’d rue me bad form and hex me good luck

As though I really gave a fuck

For all I wanted was to be seen

A poet enscribing his idle dreams

In Cuban lands far from the Machine

So that’s what I did to absolve this curse

I put pen to paper and scribbled a verse

Sent history forward n’ into reverse

Reducing my wife to a healthy smile

As she wonders where I’ve been all this while

More Colin Farrell with no Guinness barrel –

How I thought I would be different here