Sparkling, still?

A poem

Thirsty, he took up his best crystal glassware from the cupboard 

ready for a mouthful
to quench the drought

valuable
dedicatedly displayed
elegantly shaped
and perfectly formed
delicate
ornately arrayed
and decoratively adorned


opening the fridge
he grasped a readily available
bottle of something fizzy

glowing from within
on the backlit row
she lit a skinny cigarette
beneath his eyes
and hung on beside him

S. Pellegrino, of Bergamo, Italy
the natural partner
of prime position
to any course
of banquet

the corners of his mouth frothed with the sticky white of dehydration
parting under duress
with cracks and flakes
as a disused wooden window frame
his seized lips squeaking open
for a curious tongue to fly out
as chubby robin
dampening the borders, expectantly
before they smacked shut

unscrewing the cap
he tipped her round bottom skyward
and watched her glug loose
sparkling mineral water
showering
into the glass

he placed the glass
on the table
and fell into his chair

excitable bubbles gyrated up

raising a finger
he dipped it in

effervescing tickled him
with formless subtlety

moistened
he dragged the finger around the rim of the glass
freeing a vivacious ring

pleased with himself
he sat back
and dropped off to sleep

in his dreams
he saw her
bouncy and young
on the Italian cobbles
she poured herself between each suitor
a single trickle of something satisfying
to wet the whistle

when he woke up
her sparkle was gone

the glass stood flat
stagnating before his eyes

he dipped his finger de novo
and grazed the rim
she whispered her sweet nothings
one more time

taking the glass in his hand
he upturned it in the sink
and poured himself a whiskey.

© Darius the Mate


Written for dVerse.

Today’s poetry was written in the form of a conceit – taking two unrelated subjects, and drawing an extended metaphor from comparisons between the two.


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31 thoughts on “Sparkling, still?

  1. There is a lot of sparkle and fizz on the surface here, and the effervescence floats to perfection on top of a more concrete core. Your conceit of love and beverages delights as well as fizzes up the nose with some attention grabbing truths about who we are, and how we dissolve in various liquids, including memory’s deceptive elixir. I think the strongest parts of this poem for me are the opening italicized adjectives and the final five narrative stanzas which ring so clearly that the fog of fizz is dissipated, but I also enjoyed the middle, which added some depth and sensuality in lines like: “..moistened/he dragged the finger around the rim of the glass/freeing a vivacious ring..” Thanks for the drinks, Darius.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. “the sticky white of dehydration parting under duress with cracks and flakes as a disused wooden window frame,”.. gosh this is incredibly potent! You rocked the prompt! 💝

    Liked by 1 person

  3. “S. Pellagrino, of Bergamo”….I want to say that about fifty times, just because. I loved the window and chubby robin sequence and the slam bang finality of the final line.

    Liked by 1 person

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