Best Alcohol Poems
Alcohol, I see you there.
I've known who you are
for a very long time.
Such as when I was a little girl.
I remember your temper.
Your accusations of hate.
The sloppy drooling mess you are.
You God-fearing hypocrite.
The constant smell of you.
Repulsed me to no end.
I could never forget you.
How could you destroy my life?
What did I ever do to you?
You destroy everybody and everything.
I know that glassy glare in your eyes.
Rude, dirty, remarks you make, even if they were true.
Listening in silence for your footsteps down the hall.
I remember everything about you.
I am repulsed by the very thought of you.
Sun. 11 AM 7/ 21/ 2013, I decided to write this after I read Therese Bacha's poem I AM Alcoholic.
He laid on that cold bathtub lonely and sobbing
looking at his scars and crying
like a baby bawling
But you couldnt see his tears
for all the water falling,
no one heard his voice
except the dealers he was calling.
Kale Brereton
January 19, 2019
Faint barks, evening, wind, and rain
I'm standing outside these gates again
staring at her long twisted cobbled grey
She'll be pleading and crying for me to stay
Teary-eyed,.. as I start to shake
You see, it's my witching mother
Changing eyes, I remember
Each day a day in mid-November
The whiskey called "screams," and her flaking skin
Unrepentant and filled to the neck with gin
she just sat there laughing at my nervous grin
Those vile remarks and the things she'd say
Throughout the evening of every day
"you must stay with me forever, petals
or I will bloody you with this iron kettle."
I cannot push myself through these damn gates
The fear of the,.. known I suppose
those wretched toenails all overgrown
feet that stink of death
Old graveyard graves crooked amber teeth
My dear mother, it's quite clear I resent you so
Why do I still love you, you wicked old crow?
I sip and think
I slip and sink
If drinking was building, I would have owned a pyramid
I sip and pee
I sleep at three
If drinking was studying, I would have owned a Phd
ENTERING A PUB,
ORDERING A PINT.
I SIT DOWN TO THINK,
WHY DO I DRINK.
ONE BY ONE COME UP THE THINGS,
THAT CAUSES ME TO DRINK.
LOSS OF LOVE,
STARTED IT OFF.
AND IT BECAME A HABIT,
THAT HAS PUT ITS BIND UPON ME.
UNTIL INTOXICATION BECAME COMPANION,
IN MY TIMES OF NEED.
NOW THAT I AM SOBER,
I STILL THINK,
WHY DO I NEED TO DRINK.
I SUDDENLY REALIZE,
THAT INTOXICATION WAS A SHIELD BEHIND WHICH,
I HID,
IN TIMES OF NEED.
AS THE TRUTH SETTLES IN MY MIND,
I SET DOWN THE GLASS AND LEAVE THE PUB.
MAKING A VOW NOT TO HIDE
BEHIND THE SHIELD OF INTOXICATION AGAIN.
Push and shove
Punch and hit
Throwing a bad violent fit
Never knowing what you did
Because the liquor left it hid
Remembering is hard to do
When it takes control of you
You try and stop with group support
But one sip and you abort
All the senses telling you
This is a bad thing to do
Having fun with all your friends
Swigging every drink they send
With each one you can’t hold back
You start to hit and start to smack
A child who don’t understand
Why other daddy’s use their hands
To hold and love their little ones
But she has to hide and run
So afraid and scared to death
With every hit she holds her breath
Praying for her life each time
He does this violent act of crime
There was a boy who liked to drink beer
He'd been more naughty than nice all year
Sudden drop of energy
Caused by sudden allergy
Sadly made for sober Christmas cheer
AP: 1st place 2025
Submitted on November 19, 2019 for contest HOLIDAY THEMED LIMERICK sponsored by TANIA KITCHIN - RANKED 4TH
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.
The frowning light of my desk lamp, the voice
of hell dissolved in strongest alcohol,
my drunk and naked shadow on the wall…
The printed wiki photo of James Joyce,
who died of stomach ulcer, shakes his head,
seeing I drink Laphroaig from the inkwell.
It is all right for you, James, you may well
speak of addictive practices: you’re dead,
you’ve been a famous novelist but I
yet have to be a famous and to die.
Life Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Ironic Zink
For some, It’s Margaritaville
My town is called Martini
It’s not so very hard to find
in fact, it’s too damn easy
Just hang a left on Shaker Street,
the one right after Gin
Then find Vermouth, go ‘round the block
and do it all again
It’s quite a lovely place to live
and some may never leave
For me, I visit way too much
with Olive on my sleeve
A happy sort of confidence
so often will prevail
until your head begins to pound
like hammer to a nail
So take a tip from me to you
and come but for a while
Martini Town is guaranteed
to generate a smile
POEM " MY BROKEN PIECES" by martin gedge
Early morning train on a rain October froze
coffee brewing circles cross the senses of my nose
a nervous night of sleeping tossing over in my bed
not a wink to sink my eyes resting pillows in my head
it's 6am my holding hand is shaking like the wind
I can't see for the shadows from the southern comfort in
I light another cigarette to ease my peace of mind
knowing it's a token for all the broken that I find
I'm skinny as rail ,skin and as pale as deadly grave
master of my life on this knife of misbehave
my arms alarmed with needle pricks, sticks and throwing stones
my backs upon the rack of every crack head that I've known
in the fear across the mirror is a reflection of my fate
just watching as I'm fading while the saving is too late
a light of warmth a blessing while I'm dressing in this room
a habit like a rabbit multiplying every wound
the less of my expression is the guilt of being fake
there is no doubt when I go out another bone to break
and I smile to all the while with pain pounding in my heart
walking down the pavement as a target for a dart
a victim with the symptoms in a chill to kill my ill
a bottle in a basket case to waste my dying will
and with every breath I'm left in the days that I must spend
I take a hold of every load on the road that seals my end....
by martin gedge©
Coffee is a reasonable substitute
for spirit possession.
Surely your heart will tremble,
open the gateway
for earthquakes to exist
within the fault lines
of your fingers —
but at least your pants will be piss free
when the officer asks you
to dance along the straight line.
And when he asks, “are you nervous?”
you’ll respond in the affirmative.
Explain how since 1996
you’ve been waiting for the day
an asteroid directly impacts your car
as you sip espresso
heading southbound on the I-10,
on your way to work.
And you won’t have to explain to your coworker
why your pants are missing,
ass in the air,
bad decisions spilled
on the fresh mopped floor —
dreading the ride in,
knowing he knows
you’d never compete
with his fresh ironed shirt.
This morning I chose slow drip,
because life moves fast enough.
ALCOHOL ABUSE
I’ve been there done that
The words flow so easily
Lips barely moving
But the eyes start to dance
Try to recall beginnings
I’ve been there done that
Words of both release and grasp
A quiet searching
With noisy implication
As to both past and future
ALCOHOL
When I turned twenty, I started to drink
It made me feel like a man, I think
But I found out I was mistaken
Lost in a fog that may not be shaken
For years I lived in a twilight dream
With Johnny Walker, Jack Daniel and Jim Beam
In retrospect, my friends were few
But they were alcoholics too
Like the Prodigal Son, I came to my senses
I knew it was time to start mending fences
So I entered treatment to save a career
That was quickly beginning to disappear
On the eleventh of January 1982
I quickly learned what I must do
I needed to look life full in the face
And save myself from certain disgrace
Today I tell others who are beginning to fall
You can't drown your sorrows in alcohol
Rely on God, our sovereign Creator
And you won't have to miss out later
On eternal life where you will be
In total bliss for eternity
So heed the words of a man who knows
Alcohol abuse will fill you with woes
But once you trust Jesus Christ with your life
Your days will not be filled with strife
They will be filled with one thing for certain
You'll miss hell at your final curtain
I lost another friend, who was riding the alcohol train.
Little did I know, that he was in so much mental pain.
He kept it hidden well, I didn't even notice it at all.
His family kept him close, as they began to see him fall.
He was always sneaking a drink, wasting away all his time.
As long as he had some alcohol, everything would seem just fine.
Until he'd get to drunk, then his temper would begin to rage.
He was like a crazy animal, that was just released from its cage.
He spent a couple years, of his hidden life behind bars.
From doing stupid things, in a drunken haze he stole a car.
Maybe you would think, that might have sobered him up.
But once you ride that train, it's really hard to get enough.
It can make you kind of sad, even bring tears to your eyes.
When a friend you thought you knew, drinks himself to death and slowly dies.
When you think life is peachy, and everything is going as planned.
That alcohol train comes calling, and everything gets out of hand.
Dan Kearley: 10-28-13