Best Bottles Poems
A quake took place
between my shoulder blades
teeth ground to dust behind my face
the scraping of tectonic plates
scared me to my hiding place
bottles and blankets, a child’s space
it cannot withstand the shakes
that are now all too commonplace.
It's my fault Pixie loves bottles
On a whim I once gave her one
Now I want it brought to a Halt
But she will not be undone
Sad eyes are giving me glances
I hurry to empty my drink
She prances off, with the bottle
Accenting her nails painted pink
She loves toys, sticks and leaves
Balloons and balls and much more
But, she'll leave them all behind
When a bottle's thrown on the floor!
Another bout of unconsciousness, disguised as a nighttime’s sleep;
Another day of broken promises that she knows she cannot keep;
Another shot to cure the loneliness inside her long, tormented soul;
Another bottle drank to emptiness with destruction as its final goal.
With words slurred and visions blurred, denial leads the race;
With emptied bottles stashed underneath the trash, in attempts to hide a trace;
With lives destroyed widening the void that the alcohol is meant to fill;
With relationships lost as too high a cost for not admitting that she is ill.
Empty bottles lead to empty hopes in an empty future with empty eyes;
She no longer is the beautiful girl that we all once recognized;
Instead of finding help for this illness dealt, people just judge and criticize;
This empty bottle I hold makes the story I’ve told, something with which I can
empathize.
Another bout of unconsciousness, disguised as a nighttime’s sleep;
I drift off into a blackness where the empty bottles make me weep.
After nine bottles of wine I get pretty
kind never out of shape never out of
line my mind begins to shine shine with
mulberry moonshine sublime I begin
to rhyme on time in time I rhyme my
rhymes never sour like limes but sugary
and sour at the same time in the middle
of sweet and lime now isn't that fine
wine my mind my mind is out of limits
beyond outer limits beyond your limits
and shallow gimmicks out of the inner
galaxy limits no limits I am more than
just snippets limitless beyond limits
beyond summits words cometh from
a fountain unknown a zone unknown
it has never been shown alone in that
zone words form together for better a
storm a wavelet of immensity a brain
storm not lot of the norm not of your
trite brain storm a unique form after
nine bottles of wine I get pretty kind never
out of shape never out of line hearing & linking
nature whispering secrets in my mind
appreciation of a radiation stimulating
accentuating accumulating words linking
aligning designing a poetic world poems
unfurl I a whorl pool of thought I am not
lost in a winters frost I take hot shots of
the thing you rather drink not you see I
forgot that many rather sip not they ask
me for milk when they come to my home
I shut the door and say leave me alone I
continue to sip my rum I continue to write
my poem after nine bottles of wine I get
pretty kind never out of shape never out
of line never out of poems never out of rhymes
never out of rum never out of wine never
out of wit never out of time I am eternal
chime of rhyme bodily enzyme of passionate
drunken rhyme, see if you can chime in my time
of drunken rhymes time I chime I the clock of tic tock
rhythm and rhyme rum coke and lime I'll try to be sober
next time..
Wandering spring ants
by the edge of my lip-print,
solving ***** riddles
Water bottles everywhere
‘Cause that’s what people drink:
Aquafina, Poland Spring
And more each time you blink.
Evian and Fuji,
Pellegrino and Propel,
Perrier, Dasani, Volvic –
More than stores can sell.
Water bottles everywhere
But this is what I think:
New York City water tastes
The best, straight from the sink!
His pain labelled his face
Like an abandoned quarry full of "danger" signs
His guilt numbed his emotions
Like the blandest sand dune in the Saharra
With a head full of broken bottles
His mind was severed from clear thinking.
My father slept walked through life.
Ruled by the thoughts of others
Governed by their selfish labels
Mixed with self lies
Stirred by a wooden spoon: a race to the bottom.
With four hours to go
The light turns on !.
New light reflects through the broken bottles
Joins the dots
The shards of glass becomes holders of love.
More than four hours though...
Shines forever !.
There were two bottles of milk
Their names Yig and Yog,
Who planned a daring escape
In the early morning fog.
Forced to become cereal killers,
The mere thought; made their white blood curdle,
As they struggled to free themselves
From their plastic milk-crate girdle.
Yig said to Yog:
"If you make it to the newspapers,
Tell 'em everything that's passed-your-eyes,
How the TV adverts with the happy bottles
Are all just propaganda – lies."
They managed to wriggle free of the crate,
And they then jumped off the float,
Even though the other bottles s-creamed:
"No! ... be careful! ... Don't!"
They hit the road with an awful smash, and
Then rolled out of control in the dirt,
The next day ... the news headlines read:
YIG DEAD and YOG HURT.
aboard the ship named Jolly Roger
she
wears the black Skull and Bones Flag
and
it
waves in the salty air
where
the
pirates celebrate
in all the captured booty
and
flashed
their
whiskey smiles and yellow bloodshot eyes
while
the
pirates shouted out
the
sun taste like sweet bottles of rum
Opening bottles
Men can
Women can't
Not always anyway.
Some women
Have men's hands
Knobbly and strong
Take my late mother-in-law
Hands good for
Wringing heavy washing
Lifting pints of Guinness too!
Me, useless, needing a man
If only to open my bottles.
Bottles
Pass me another bottle to pour down my sorrow,
My love I wrote you poem of me being drunk in morning tomorrow,
I love the poison poisoning my mind to come up with slick rhymes,
So pass a blunt I'll roll one tonight,
Getting fading as I puff puff pass here the lighter might,
Lose myself in the time I have,
Not at a club more like backyard with a bonfire,
As my lungs fill in exhale as we get higher,
Please let the Remy Scotch Bacardi kick in,
You'll see how inspire I be,
For my words curse you out at sea,
A sea of grief of a thief stealing my heart would be,
A hole in the chest am I a mess?
Dealing with stress so blast the music to the police come arrive,
Wait they cant private property as you probably will see,
A Jello shot is the best.
My love I'll have a swimming pools of liquor like Kendrick stated,
As you hated the way I dive in,
Born sinner you brought to your family dinner,
As I see you in a faded vision I can barely be.
So pass me an other bottle to the point I have bottles on bottles to where the European models,
I drink my sorrow,
Wait.... I forgot what I was saying---
Until the arrow that hit my heart burn,
To the ashes that our bridge is apparently appear apart,
You try to find me well turn in the darkest forests of Alice in wonderland,
Where I'll be where the wild things are,
As you stare at my life in a spiral,
LSD for I forgot about theses so pass me vodka,
Ten shot to you ten shots to me.
Written: 10/14/15
There are drunks in the parking lot of the mall.
They keep singing about bottles of beer in the wall.
No longer am I able to stand it all.
These bums don’t sound like a choir to me.
They are chanting out of tune, and a bit off key.
Nobody will ever call this stuff harmony.
At ninety-nine is where this group started.
With all of that gas, a few of them farted.
After these characters finish guzzling their beer,
they are leaving all the empty bottles around here.
With all the broken glass, we must watch where we step.
In each of their throats, may they get a big dose of Strep.
Stay hydrated for health and weight
daily drink bottles of water around eight
Help stay off hunger and keep you slim
but you better keep a nightlight when
The urge will surge for a liquid purge
up all night to pee, sleeping a memory
Up again to that porcelain bowl
all night get up to go go go
Eight bottles of water, water
Eight bottles of water, water
You'll lose weight by drinking eight
by going and going as the night escapes
The day to sleepy to even eat
lose some weight and vow to keep
Don't forget and remember why
drink eight bottles of water aye aye aye
Eight bottles of water, water
Eight bottles of water, water
You'll lose weight by drinking eight
by going and going as the night escapes
Please please, I don't wanna go to sleep.
Let me stay up I won't make a peep!
It seems like the grownups have all the fun.
Look at those cool bottles, can I have one?
You are so silly you make me giggle.
Dancing around your belly jiggles.
Being sent to bed just isn't right.
Why do you get to stay up all night?
I walk away with my head hung low.
I'm listening but I'm moving slow.
In my bed I can't wait to be grown.
King of the house sitting on the throne.
I would make the rules stay up all night.
I'm angry as you turn out the lights.
You kiss my forehead and go back to play.
The smell from your breath is far from okay.
I bury my head and close my eyes.
Wait for the morning when I can rise.
I rise before you so I can drink.
Colored bottles will make my breath stink.
Age 7, I would sneak drinks from the partially filled beer bottles
that were sitting around the living room after a party.
"You're a Little Kid Again" Julie- Michelle's contest.
Written by Richard Lamoureux
August 26th, 2013
So there I was, minding my own
Doing my normal things
Buzzing around from house to house
Stopping only to rest my wings.
An old rotten apple, last nights take away
Things much to nasty for you.
Or meeting up with my old maggot mates
Whilst sitting around on poo!!
But this was to be no ordinary day
As my final buzz draws near
Today was to be my last on the earth
But not filled with trepidation or fear!
I did not have a clue
That today I would die
That it was my time to go
To the big waste bin in the sky
You see for years I have dodged the spider’s webs,
And rolled up news paper batons
And those electric grills that give you a zap
Or the sharp brisling teeth of a Venus fly trap
And yet the thing that would kill me,
Be it much larger in size,
As on the windscreen of a car
I would meet my demise.
Some would say that what did me in,
Was a lack of concentration
That I should have seen what was to come
Flying without due care and attention
And the last fleeting thought,
The last thing in my head,
Was my own back side
As the Windscreen left me dead
So from high on above
I look back on the scene
Seeing my being as physical
Smeared across the windscreen
What a sad waste of life
But the lesson made me much wiser
My belief is reincarnation
And ill come back as a spider!!