Best Alchohol Poems
Mirror mirror on the wall
Would you still care if I break or fall ,
Would you still be there to console me through it all ?
After the drugs fade , memories take place and now it's hard too stand tall . I ran out of alchohol now I can hear your judgment pass through the empty hall ,
the pains getting deeper should I overdose on tylenol?
See I'd hang myself but I've already been hung up on the wall .
You stare at me you feel my pain but you never call , the stress is weighing on my brain , I'm done playing games , my soul full of pain but I'm just too weak to end it all !
Now mirror on the wall I see the cracks are they outside or within, are they both, which side am I living in? All u do is mock me you ain't my friend , forget you and your friendship this is the end . I got a bullet with your name on it , I may be too weak to end it all
but I can start by freeing the man who was hung up on the wall.
I am putting a sign in my window for a position available. The position is soul mate,
(friend and lover) this is not a temporary job but a forever thing. Apply within to see
what I am seeking.
You must be male
Single (divorced or widow is okay)
Live in this city(no long distance thing)
Love cats (I have two)
And children (I have none)
You must be trustworthy and faithful
(without trust we have nothing)
Have good communication
A good listener
Love nature and long walks
Hate cruelty to people and animals
Like poetry(mine especially)
Be a writer (optional)
Be happy with your life
Not into smoking, drugs or alchohol
Have humility and kindness
Ambition and intelligence are needed
As is honesty and warmth and tenderness
Mature yet still have that little kid inside
You should be supportive and nurturing
Appreciate my friends(accept them)
Be a good kisser etc
Sense of humor is a must
Like art and museums and plays and concerts
Movies and music
Day trips in the city and hiking
(sorry these feet never leave the ground)
Flowers(because I have a garden)
Watching television
Love to read and quiet time
Have great quantities of compassion and empathy
Show respect to me and others
Have your own hobbies and interests and friends
Accept my flaws
Be passionate and romantic and affectionate
Like to cook
Helping with the housework is not a problem(yes/no)
If you have controlling behaviour (please do not apply)
Share my values and respect my beliefs
Committed to improving yourself
Appreciate my private space and thoughts
Bring me flowers and chocolates (just because)
Willing to compromise at times
Put no conditions on our relationship
Make me a better person
Love me
If you feel this is a position you are qualified for, please come for an interview with
a list of your qualifications and picture. Reminder, this is not a temporary job but
a forever thing.
________________________
June 7, 2015
List
Written by Broken Wings
For the Contest, The Interview, sponsor, Judy Konos
First Place
Time is precious.
Time is irreplaceable.
In this moment in time
there is a moment that's favorable.
Time ticks, never stops.
From day to night
as the sun drops.
As memories rise to the occassion.
Another killed.
Investigations.
Because of want to be gangsters
and homicidal demonstrations.
Gunshots, bodies hittin the pavement
and in this time, another soul is wasted.
Lives taken.
Just reactin, not thinking.
Never waiting.
Like time.
Drugs and alchohol destroying young minds.
Too many turning down the blinds.
True saying, when they said
The blind can't lead the blind.
Too much disrespect to mankind.
Praying to God for peace of mind.
Wanting, searching,
so hard to find.
The Devil ain't kind,
still I try
because, of my pride.
Hold my head high.
Though it's hard to say goodbye.
R.I.P. to my peeps
the Devil's a lie.
Time is Precious.
Time is a memory
and as time goes on
It fades to infinty.
You will never get that second back.
In the blink of an eye
it's gone.
Just like that.
Like the people we've loved,
and the people we've lost.
In due time
we all have to pay the cost.
As we become memories in time.
In time.
Precious time.
Bordeaux Ben just loved red wine,
Would only drink when dining fine,
Didn't drink beer, wouldn't drink gin,
Mum said, alchohol at home was a sin,
So he ate at restaurants all the time.
MY STORY IS LONG AND OH SO SAD
HEROIN WAS HIS TRUE DEMISE
HE WORKED VERY LITTLE BUT THE FACT
IS KNOWN, HEROIN WAS THE CHOICE FOR
NOT ALCHOHOL ALONE
HE WAS A GOOD PERSON REALLY HE WAS
FOR HELPING OTHERS HE TRIED TO DO
HE WAS A POOR SOUL, THAT HAD LOST HIS WAY
WHAT A SHAME HE HAD SO MUCH PAIN
REMEMBERING BRUCE WHEN WE WERE GROWING UP
HIS HEART WAS GOOD AND HE HAD SO MUCH
A HOME, A CAR AND PARENTS WHO CARED
BUT THE DRUGS WON HIM OVER, HIS POOR SOUL IN NEED
HE DID TAKE MONEY AND STOLE THINGS, FROM THE FAMILY MY
DAD OH WHAT A MESS IT WAS TO HAVE BEEN FOR HIM
HE DIED ON MEMORIAL DAY 2003, LET US REMEMBER THAT OTHERS
ARE AT RISK AND I WAS TO TELL THE STORY OF BRUCE LIKE HE WANTED
TO INSTRUCT OTHERS TO BE OFF THIS HORRIBLE TRAIN
THE TRAIN THAT LED HIM TO SELF DESTRUCT,
BUT THE WONDERFUL
THING ABOUT MY BROTHER BRUCE
HIS KIND HEART AND SOUL WAS THE THING HE TRULY HAD THE MOST OF
WHAT A WASTE OF A HUMAN BEING WHO KNEW, THE HEARTACHE AND PAIN OF THE
DRUG CALLED HEROIN
It's not when I'm asleep I dream,
It's the stages in between,
The moment just before waking,
The drifting before repose,
When fleeting seconds which with I gamble,
When the mind is allowed to amble,
Through the childish thoughts & tangents,
Through odditys, obscurity & madness,
Between dreaming & thinking, oh what a team,
Between you & me, I remember no dream,
Longer than it takes me to brush my teeth,
Longer still than that I bet you remember thinking thoughts,
Precisely this is why dreams are special they're thoughts you could not think,
Precisely without inebriation, drugs, alchohol & the kitchen sink,
Insane thoughts
Inane thoughts
These are what haunt me in the zone between slumber & regard,
These things these euphoric jaunts into the surreal & marred,
I don't dream of power, success or wealth,
I dream of pretty things like coconuts in stealth,
Parroquets singing barbershop to girls who have no hair,
Robot polkadot girly dudes wearing nout but underwear,
A friend is now my lover, A lover is now my slave,
I'm chased, I chase an abandoned & forgot old knave,
Who earned my ire & my wrath,
By failing to take a bath,
In a land where water doesn't exist,
But drinking honey gets you pissed,
A snake slithers slowly, seranading sirens shout support,
I take my mothers kitchen knife but quickly am I caught,
Before I get to slice into my favourite memory,
Dreams.
Dreams of transport take me from myself to another dimension,
Dreams like these are precisely why I fail to mention,
My own works of the deranged mind when at a party it is said,
"My oh my, I had the weirdest dream last night"
But I don't dream, I think, or atleast I think I think,
But if I concentrate on the thought i lose it in a blink,
It's like that chinese finger trap,
It's harder still the more you try,
So keeping a dream in mind is harder than most things,
So you might aswell just enjoy it whilst it lingers,
And then I think of the thoughts that I am thinking,
And then I'm brought to sobriety,
And left with my boring normal mind,
And that is less fun.
Everybody's out having fun
on this lonely Saturday night.
Even your mom has a date
and your brother's with family.
Your sister's at a slumber party,
and even your preacher has plans.
So what do you do on a Saturday night?
When you ain't got plans
and your mama's out all night?
With a gleeful squeal
you leave the windows side
and rush to the phone.
You call up some friends
and tell 'em to come over
'cause everybody's out.
Soon they're over
and the stereos max volume.
You grab some beer and snacks
and bring 'em on out.
You begin to party.
After a few bottles of the alchohol,
your feelin' a lightheaded.
Everybody's dancing and music is boomin'.
And in the confusion a hand takes your wrist.
You're dragged up the stairs
and thrown on a bed.
Your captor rips off your clothes
and from there it goes.
You awake in the morning in your mama's bed
and there's an unfamiliar hand resting next to your head.
You had a hangover; your head was pounding.
Then you looked down and realized,
neither were dressed, both naked as birth.
You look at the clock, it's seven O'clock!
You rush to get dressed, the other's waking up.
He looks around drearily
before his eyes open wide.
He scrambles to get up,
dressed and then left,
and you never figured out
just who your first was.
Two months later
your in the hospital because you've been throwing up.
You're sister says you have a virus,
your mama's not so sure.
The the doctor came out iwht a sympathetic look.
"I hate to say this, miss, but you're pregnant."
You drop in dead faint.
A thousand years pass
In the blink of an eye
An alchohol drenched sky
Bring a lighter and set it ablaze
Rancid cigarettes
Gruesome hangovers
Things you do and then forget
People you meet that you regret
Just one more, and I'm done
Next thing you know, you wake up alone
You shook his hand
he nonchalantly told his name
the type of greeting that
you do to passing strangers
or someone you meet but later forget
not even 5 hours have passed
and your legs are spread
it was easy to get his doggy fed
It's the fact that you did it publicly
that sickened me the most
friends aren't supposed to know
if you want to be a **** than go
but at least be discrete about it
embarrassment in the morning
because we knew what happened
beneath the sheets is a problem
My thoughts on you have changed
and I doubt that you even remember
his name which to me is a damn shame.
There wasn't even any alchohol that you
could blame. It all ended this way
because you wanted it that way.
A one night stand. Another one on
your belt I hope for your sake that
the expressions on everyone's faces
with force you to go get some help.
In a good girls eyes lies darkness and mischief; Hidden in her disguise she's god but
without it she's the devil. Caught up with her bible hugging in the morning and her panty
throwing at night. Though she despises Alchohol it's really the fear that it comes down
to. Worried that with one gulp she'll lose control and everyone will now she's not an
angel. So twisted inside her lies to everyone, she desires to be touched forbiddenly
though she stills a virgin. No one knows the secrets that lies behind the doors of a good
girls eyes. She is slowly losing momentum seeing that bad girls always have more fun. So
her legs started to inch apart, the one's she had promised to keep closed. No one knew
that behind these eyes of a good girl lied a hoe just waiting to explore. Waiting to
exhale, finally take a bite out of life for her damn self. She realized that good girls
were too wholesome and she felt she needed to part some if you know what I mean. It
wasn't until she got out there that she realized there was nothing good about being bad
and maybe she was being naive but I think it was sad because she had so much to live for
now she was trapped in a world in a world and she couldn't get back. Even though she
prayed and prayed and said god please let me back in, he said i'm sorry but to me you
have learn nothing didn't I always tell you to resist Temptation at all cost? She said
yeah well what about forgiveness I though you taught that too. I did but your with the
devil now your playing with different rules and in his world once your tarnished your
forever his. Tears fell down her eyes as she listened to what he said. Another girl gone
rotten, it's a shame because you could have been out queen. She said I still will be, and
god watched as she kissed the devils lips. A tear dropped down his eyes as he reached but
she was gone.
why be different?
you may dare to ask,
but question to you is,
why bow down and look like an ass?
after the stench of the alchohol lifts and the headache subsides,
there will still be all your friends effected right by your side,
now im not saying that these are rules by which anybody has to abide,
juss saying that when you just give in to fit in it makes you look like a donkeys hide,
if your a good friend of mine and that happens,
in my eyes,
all you stand upon is a giant bookstack of lies,
this may be a hard pill to swallow for some,
but then again if it is, you are probably the one,
that im trying to reach with this poem,
so dont grab my words like dead leaves and throw them,
instead embrace them and try and understand what i write,
maybe you just dont have what im saying in your sight,
but if you just give in to the stereotype,
all you are in my eyes is something that just isnt quite right.
THATS REAL.
Just the other day in this tiny somewhat corrupted
As polluted want to be so much more, tempered town
In tinseled dreams formulated by their minute elite ? Borne
Longings passed onward by father's gold rush these, railroad tracks
Spitting up spikes and ties to bind this kind ? Anyway, since daddy's money
Moved towards her northern lights, so as to speak; downtown got a row of out houses
While closing all the public restrooms: her mayor his councils decision to help balance their
Budget while hiring more security and sending out in force patrols whom capture the homeless
Given a choice either clean up our streets parks these ghettos surrounding doegs city hall....
Or we'll take your starving dirty as neglected children from you ? So, I step into the porto pottie which
Has no seat cover when suddenly, there are a dozen sirens sounding from all sides another hail of gunfire
Justifable says the cherished police chief once again while their schizophrenic lay amid a puddle bleeding out
Two dozen holes inside this cave ? But our governor is going to give her grapes of wrath's offspring another sixty
Million to build round up's jail while his feds kick in an offset from alchohol tobacco and fire arms revenues ? Truly, see spot run.
I drink a lot of water everyday
More than the doctor's advice
But in monsoon water is impure
In summer water sources unsafe
I know, nothing purifies like spirit,
So I add my whiskey, just a shot,
In every glass of water I drink.
I of all will never take any risk.
If you caught my glance
and bottled it for perfume
it would be called: "Cold
Bitter Lime and Lemon Rind
Absinth Alchohol Delight"...
My depression doesnt really stay as a single thing.
It doesnt have a name.
It doesnt really stay as anything.
Its a reflection of the skies, the rain ,the grains of sugar left over on my lips from the lick of the spoon i stirred into my tea.
My depression isnt the lack of happiness.
Its the lack of feeling.
Its the lack of the warmth of the one hug you waited for for years from that one person.
its not the want to lay in bed with icecream and the radio on for hours.
My depression is the rainstorm that never seems to leave the side of my bed.
Cool and icey, with wetness, not from my tears, but the subtle ideas and nonesense that blankets my thoughts in a sleepless night.
Its the fear of the things i didnt do but have yet to do.
My depression is the constant I love yous with the constant replies of
"Im tired" or " I knows" or " maybe next time".
Its the unforgiving notion that my body will not do to me as i did for it.
The measurements on a piece of string with black marks that want to be tighter and less snug.
The fingers around my wrists as i eat my meals to hide the shame of the floods inside my empty body.
Its the 45 minutes of saying ill be ready in 5 minutes, every 5 minutes.
The piles of clothes i bought but could never let myself wear because of the empty stares i never got.
Its the sickness I cant call out of work for.
Its what people say," I hope you get better"
and you reply with " i dont know what better is, or was or will be"
but never utter, just smile.
My depression is the smell of the alchohol in the cold medicine on my lips, crackled and crippled in the morning, sunken eyes and a huff under my breathe.
Its the bowl of poison wrapped in candy wrappers and toys in a dentists office.
My depression is a place.
Its a place that isnt really a place.
Not a person nor a being.
Its not the psychiatrist telling you to spill the heart you once had.
Its the doctor with lowered eyes and a frown saying " Life isnt for everyone."
Its the anger of the writings on the papers you burnt
or the fire from the unwiped tears off your pale cheeks.
My depression isnt a thing.
Its not the explainable.
It isnt whats wrong , what isnt wrong.