A Dark Place in the Center: A Collection of Poems

By David Prinz Hufford

On the subject of alcoholism, the language and publications of recovery literature run the gamut from self-help guides to inspiring stories. Author David Prinz Huffordhimself a recovered alcoholic who has been sober now for thirty yearsadds his own voice to this topic in the form of this new collection of verse.

His poetry spans the full range of alcoholism, from initiation at parties to full-blown chronic alcoholism to the change that comes only from hitting bottom. His words speak from experience, written by an insider who has lived the nightmare and found his way out to clear-headed wakefulness. Exploring a wide range of emotion and history, these verses were difficult to write; some are just as difficult to read, steeped in agony and despair.

Even so, Huffords message is not one of condemnation but instead of hope. Once a prisoner of alcoholism, he is now set free. He shares his painful road to inspire the lost onesthe people of Huffords past, who feel hopelessly afraid and shackled to a drug that will not let go.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Abbott Press
• Release date: Sep 5, 2013
• ISBN: 9781458210852

David Prinz Hufford

David Prinz Hufford has been writing poems for nearly seventy years. He has been in recovery for more than thirty years, which contributes to the diversity and range of his poetry. After teaching in two states and two foreign countries, he is now retired and living in Nebraska.

Book preview

THE FIRST AND LAST CONSEQUENCE

Wandering around forgotten streets

Where he was left last night

Or several nights ago,

Someone is trying to find his car,

Or where he was

When he lost some calendar

Of what day it was these bricks

Looked familiar, or what trees

Connected with what hands

Upon what wristwatch

Or what people might have been there—

Or what year.

Someone is trying to find some referent

—was it a garage by a field?

—or a keg by a tree?

Or was that the other time

Two years ago—who was she?

And was she even there?

Wandering around so many years

Which have been hidden in bars or grates

—Some neon-lighted way back home?—

Or someone going to a lockup

Or detox or rehab—or where?

Waking up on a floor or a bench

Or on a couch or the thin rubber sheet

Or waking up in an unknown place

Or waking up in an unknown place.

THE GRAPES

David lay down beside the grapes,

For he was very old.

Someone had fermented them

To purple and to cold.

And the olden fears and childhood dreams

Quite drew him down to sip.

And the nether effect and the binding mind

Wept at his weeping lip.

And he saddened down till he lay beside

Such round euphoric things;

And the lead-thick mind was a crawling mind

That croaks and thinks it sings.

Guess what? A time comes when to end

Is as likely as go on,

When to finish off the deadened flesh

Seems as good as face the dawn.

And you can join me where I