Tequila Sunrise

We snap our fingers into flame,
calling for another shot to douse
our heathen throats in tequila spirits;
stumbling off our moral equator,
that runs just south of Jalisco.

Dipping our fingers into inky dyes,
we trace the labyrinth that interlaces
our pot-marked façade.
Our war paint cries out in blood-lust
as we adorn ourselves with tribal feathers,
the fire flickering along our limbs.

Our battle scars, tattoos that tell our story
in angry eddies of charcoal dye.
Broken shards of light splinter
through the holes in straw huts—
we shy into corners of familiarity.

By now the Peninsular sun has risen
and the tequila’s low flame sparks
an internal blaze that sets us aflame
as clear cut lines crisscross and
we lurch headlong into tequila sunrise.

I love the entire thing, beautiful imagery, and I think the word "lurch" just made my day.

My only suggestion is to work on your trasitions. As you see you have a dismal feeling in the first stanza, tribal in the second, and then a return to the crushed feeling again. It's all very sudden, and I'm unsure if you're implying a flashback or not to corrupted glory days.

So - loved it. Sorry I can't tear it apart.

I absolutely loved the fourth stanza. I was wondering too if perhaps the narrator is refering to the past or not. Besides that no crit.

I think this poem has some beautiful images, as xanthan said, but I had a lot of trouble understanding it. Who is "we"? I mean, the tone and images are mostly conveying the feeling here. I'd like something a little more concrete to hold on to.

You use the word "tequila" three times, four if you count the title, and it's in the last stanza two times. Like the drink, too much is bad for you.

Our war paint cries out in blood-lust
as we adorn ourselves with tribal feathers;
the fire flickering along our limbs.

I like that phrase a lot, especially the part about the "fire flickering along our limbs." That semicolon after feathers should be a comma, though.

Our battle scars, tattoos that tell our story
in angry eddies of charcoal dye.
Broken shards of light splinter
through the holes in straw huts—
we shy into corners of familiarity.

I really liked the bit about the battles scars and "angry eddies of charcoal dye." That first phrase is a fragment. Perhaps "Our battles scars are tattoos that tell our story/ in angry eddies of charcoal dye".
"Broken shards" is redundant, although that didn't actually occur to me until about the fourth time through.

I liked the references to lines, the equator, and whatnot. The middle section that xanthan has quite accurately called "tribal" made me think of Lord of the Flies. (Ahh, freshman English class.)

Fantastic work!
Colleen

The imagery was absoluetly amazing! This was my favorite part:

Cameron wrote:Dipping our fingers into inky dyes,
we trace the labyrinth that interlaces
our pot-marked façade.

Incredible use of metaphorical description.

Cadmium: The "we" is in reference to the pleasure seekers and escapists who find comfort, in this case, in the bottle.

Xanthan gum:

1st stanza: quite simply the drinking phase, i.e. escapism

2nd stanza: the drunken stage where "we" find ourselves temporarily released from our plights.

3rd: the realization that this stage is short lived, that we are caught in the rut of our habit, but the familiar as always remains more pleasant than the unknown.

4th: the hangover

Kay: Thank you, and yes after the initial act, there is a recollection of past experiences taking place.

Tara: Thank you as well for your comments. Cheers,

Cameron