Whiskey and Manuka Honey
Tend to help the creative side of me
Oh, feeling a bit Hemingway today
There’s no point trying to fight it, I always say.
Empty shells fresh from their cylinder cells
Cold hard steel
It is all that I feel
Hazy thoughts and mixed emotions
Wishing my tea was some kind of potion
To break the spell
To release me from my self-inflicted hell
Distant, I am. So far away —
I am a rope — frayed
A chip in a cup
A rip in the seam
Unraveling
Remnants of parts to an old whole
If you go into a bar to order your Whiskey and Manuka Honey, and the bartender refuses to serve you because you are a rope, walk out, tie yourself in a knot, go back into the bar, and order again. If the bartender asks if you were that rope that was just in, you can say “No! I’m a frayed knot!”
You are a chipper chip, and it “seams” like could certainly be ripped (imaging a body builder’s pose), no matter how unraveled you feel you are.
Aren’t you a clever one. Clever, indeed! BAHAHA Thank you, I can’t tell you how much your vote of confidence and encouragement means to me!
Your dad probably didn’t want you to have anything you could ride that was faster than he was. If you had a good bond with a horse, and you got a beating anywhere near that horse, it would have come to your rescue. It’s too bad you didn’t have horses. I would say it was intentional.
We did have horses until my teen years. I rode a lot. I never learned to rope, but I did do some barrel racing. I’m surprised I survived horses. I took some really hard tumbles of off them since I almost always rode bareback. I had a crappy saddle and didn’t have the patience to saddle up my horses. I put a bridle on, jumped on bareback and took off like the wind.
I love the poem dear Eleanor and I drink the whiskey sometime. Quiet the mind and I can write.
Days like these teach us so much – sometimes too much! Frayed and chipped – I do believe imperfections are perfectly beautiful. They reveal our humanness, our vulnerability. Tomorrow is a new day. Best to you, Eleanor.
A chip in the cup has great character!
I’m addicted to black coffee and honey these days. Never liked the taste before. Interesting how our taste buds transition to different flavours. The connection between the taste bud and the mind is a story for another day.
Hope you feel perky soon!
A poignant write. I’m so sorry you feel this way. Wish I could do something for you.
But I’m glad you could take refuge in your words.
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Absolutely brilliant! I echo the words of JohnCoyote. In terms of encouragement may I offer: ‘This too shall pass and the best is yet to come.’ Peter
Thank you, quietlystanding, I appreciate you taking the time to read and comment. It just felt right…ya know? 😉
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You Lil Dickens 
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