May Poetry Board
On Spirits, Smoke, and What We Carry to the Trailhead
One of the prevailing theories on how our ancient ancestors figured out alcohol contends that it was an accident.
The story goes that ancient human gathered and stored a variety of goods and the foodstuff got exposed to wild yeast and water, and fermented into a rough alcoholic slush. Likely consumed more out of a necessity to survive than a curiousity, ancient human liked the experience. From then on, our curious minds recreated the process and fine tuned to vary the results.
Such discovery wasn’t a one-off that spread out from a central area. Every group of ancient people found their way to making alcohol. Whether it’s sake, wines made from literally any and every fruit you can imagine, meads from honey, or beers from wild oats and other cereals, ancient human made their drinks.
I recall coming across an interesting perspective in that the alcoholic slushies would have provided a more potable water source than standing water. Fermenting the foodstuff into a longer lasting drink would also provide another avenue to positively affect survival.
The Natives in eastern Idaho found that it was cold in the lava tubes and small caves that formed under the overlapping feet of repeated lava flows. Anyone who has explored Ape Caves in my neck of the woods would understand that too. You could keep food down there longer. Natural fridges. Storing alcoholic mixtures in these cool, dark places led to stronger substances.
Much like ancient human, modern human still uses alcohol in its many forms. Whether it’s gathering to enjoy a sporting event to religious practices, its uses vary depending on cultures. There are even some cultures that abstain entirely from its consumption, even in ritual.
Every person must find their own way. However, toasting to someone’s memory seems more appropriate lifting a glass of spirits over water or a soda. It feels more appropriate to accompany death rituals, like wakes and celebrations of life. A savory burn feels the same way ‘remembrance’ does.
For this month’s board, I have curated a few poems that I feel sit within this vein, highlighting ritual in grief and healing.
Sipping Whiskey Sip slowly, my wayward son, Savor the sweet and the smoke. Wise words mull over the flame - The warmth spreading like honey Down your throat. I raise a glass to you, This amber from Islay, Biting my cheeks To stave the grief. To those in the seats And lined the walls; We told your tales Such mischief made! To you, mom The glory of the day. ~ Birdsong I'm out of reach Paintbrush to the sky Trying to keep out of sight - These melancholy eyes Sitting still and watching birds Flutter about Living their lives. The peace of mind; Gathering twig, Thatching walls, Stretching wings in the sun... Searching for seed, Feeding the young, Seeing them struggle first Then fly. Draped in the golden hour, I enjoy their song Outside my window Nursing a smoke; Nursing a cry. What I wouldn't give to trade the life Little Sparrow, You can have my woes - I'll enjoy fending off the crow From the millet offerings - The bridge between Your world and mine. ~~ Unanchored Captain's Log... Flotsam at sea, Drifting with a north wind Finding withered brine visions of Dancing Valkyries Pouring libations Merry salvation aloft in the breeze, The smell of roasted meat Sparking sensimilla revelries These phantosmia out of reach. My hungry eyes blinded by the sun, Breaking the anchor chain; I set my path for this splendor With whatever it takes. Chasing or escaping I'll take it either way. ~~ Trailhead The sign said: 'leave your worries at the trailhead' Wise advice, these woods are haunted. You can feel it in the air; A subtle shift in the wind, And when the fog settles, Silhouettes dance in your peripheral. They drift outside the torch's reach, Playing on your troubles, Every step further into the trees Luring with familiar scents; Spiced ciders and toasted apples, Phantosmias of creature comforts Far away and ethereal. Leave your burdens, at least for a while They're safe with the others who followed suit Everytime I do I return to find them a little more immaterial.
Note to readers: I am curious if there are those who are interested in collaboration, whether it is on civic style writing or poetry. I enjoy building community around these creative processes. Hit me up.