Alcoholics Poems - Poems about Alcoholics

Drop a rock into a still pond, and the ripples echo. A large enough rock, and a pond sized tsunami, waves echoing beyond the edges. Every step I take creates ripples. Sometimes, a tsunami. After all, I'm not screaming in outer space. And the trillions of steps before mine that gave me the ground I walk on, need to be acknowledged by the care I...

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"Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind; " Edna St, Vincent Millay A Uncle And an aunt Both long gone now Alcohol took them Despite...

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Chicago's like a box of alcoholics you always know what your gonna git gang bangers and amateur rappers pick pockets and sidewalk crappers trolls guzzling homebrew under a bridge...

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worst types of people in the world my mother had opinions about everything under the sun dividing the world into those that bored her amused her or charmed her dividing the world in those that knew and those that did not know she had particular scorn for so called experts saying a PHD meant BS piled high and deep never trust an expert she...

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I still remember my childhood being poured out of me slowly I was 7 or 8 when I experienced my grandfather suffer. He choked to death on his vomit (died the next day in ICU) My father never recovered, he became an alcoholic, too. He started driving us around town most nights Blaring Tejano Cumbias to help him cope I’d trace...

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Alcoholics and Druggies die every day That's the chant. Their vice is a monster they endure at first, then regret, Then fully embrace until life just slips away. Their lives were full of shoulda, coulda, and woulda's They would get to someday Which is now irrelevant. Alcoholics and Druggies die every day. Doesn't this piquet you in some way? Have we become that complaisant? Their...

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iconoclastic poets with no evidence of skill or polish in the existing system of boredom violence of love unmasked and naked splashed on the rites of the system threatening and powerless risking anarchy for freedom disfigured finds solace in the clutches of fermented purple grapes we call them alcoholics...

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Middleclass alcoholics After a heart attack my life as seaman was over, so I went back to school and trained to become a shrink helping people with addiction problems and for this I got a diploma. My first job was in Norway, at a private clinic, helping businessmen to confront their problem, it was an expensive place...

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Picturesque beauty - the sunrise, sunset The rays - that hue - those shades of bronze Beauteous - that yellowish tint or the rainbow Way up high - after the rain! imagine that Imagery of waterfalls - the beaches in the sands Or the sparkles of the first fallen sparkling snow Beauty walking the paths through the gardens of life Sitting at...

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To pick up the bottle drown in my sorrow, drink it,---all gone as a drunkard I wait for tomorrow wake up with the sun on my face don't even remember the day is it SUNDAY? OH NO! it's MONDAY time to find my pride better yet I'll lay back down to die my back on the ground the tree gives little shade maybe I'll fade the bottle empty at...

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A bitter and twisted tale to follow, everyday the same as tommorw, same old madness that will follow, empty dreams and a heart that's hollow. Ill begin each day the usual way, look in the mirror and see decay, a hopeless soul is what they say, still dressed in the clothes of yesterday. I sit on my bed with no real plans, except for...

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