Best Drinking Poems
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
I remember the days just you and me, laughing and drinking a cup of rose tea. Your lovely china had a big yellow bee, it was praying on just one knee. I loved your warm crackers and brie, those days were filled with happiness and glee. I wish your spirit was still here, not out in the big blue sea.
Date Written:2/1/2023
Shaking hands, legs covered in blood...
Where am I?
My vision is a blur, but I can’t unsee you.
Nothing about this feels right.
I hear your voice, again and again:
“Just take the pills, they’ll give you a thrill.”
For a moment they’ll numb my brain.
But it’s two in the morning,
The tears in my eyes and marks on my thighs
Tell me I still feel the pain.
The bedroom on Tuesday,
Your workplace on Wednesday,
The club on Thursday night.
I’m tired, exhausted -
Can’t do this much longer,
How can you think this is right?
I lie in bed,
Blade in my hand,
The tip to my skin.
Your face in my mind,
Your hands on my chest –
And now it’s under my chin.
At my door once more,
My heart picks up at the sight.
My vision blurs, but I can’t unsee you,
Back in my room? Not tonight.
I am drinking you
With my eyes open wide
And my lips moist
My nose catching scent
I am eating you
Savouring every little detail
My tongue distinguishing
Sweet, sour, salt
I am seeing you
With veiled eyes
Shedding tears of salt
And sweetness
I am hearing you
And all the words
Not said but guessed
In all the small cries
Drinking drugging, chug a lugging,
Cruising down the poncy street,
Drunk a 40 cats a hugging,
Look out 4 this ***** on heat,
Brain a thumpin, blood a pumping,
Dogs a humping, jelly beans to eat,
Cant get me car outa park,
So brain dead I cannot speak,
Flashing forth in me v6,
On the footpath, sometimes creep,
Uh oh downed a letter box ,
Postie he will surely freak,
Blue lights flashing, they in fashion?
Sirens blaring, dodge concrete,
Off the walls it seems I’m bashing,
Police-e-man I’m yet to meet…
A beautiful vibrant woman you once were
Now you live your life in an alcoholic blur
Lying in a hospital bed your skin is turning yellow
Your hubby is finding it hard to cope, he’s such a lovely fellow
But your love is now for the bottle it makes me oh so sad
Seeing such a promising life turn out now to be so bad
People have tried to help you but you need to help yourself
Kick this horrid lifestyle bring your business back to wealth
For that too is now crumbling it’s such a wasted life
I want to see you back to that once amazing wife
People are powerless to help you unless you can just say
‘I am an alcoholic help to me live another way'
8th May 2014
Written about a dear friend who is currently in hospital
I do hope she can beat this but until she admits she has a problem no one can help
He is addicted to the bottle
Despite what his words tell a friend
His hands reach out to the liquor
As if it contains the cure for his failures
He takes a drink, never thinking
Of all the pain this poison will bring
To him, his wife and their children
Everyone who truly cares about him.
Everyone has seen this demon
Bring greater men to their demise
Without a second chance to stop him
He’ll be filling up his entire heart and life
With a sickening scent of alcohol that
Makes him more brainless than anything else
He’ll keep drinking until this strong drink
Kills him – and his family will grieve for
The one they knew before he was a drunk
He’s addicted to the thing that hurts
Him and everyone who cares for him
He thinks he can handle one drink of it
But a few bottles later tells the true story
Even though the bottle is his best friend
It’s actually the enemy to the one inside him
He thinks it can mend whatever hurts him
While it actually ruins what’s left within
Alcoholic, lost in the toxic liquid
That destroys more than his sanity
This drink will take away all that is good
And leave a broken down failure, most likely
Dead on the inside before he actually dies
Proverbs 23:20f: "Do not join those who drink too much wine or gorge themselves on meat, for drunkards and gluttons become poor, and drowsiness clothes them in rags." ... Ephesians 5:18: "Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead, be filled with the Spirit."
I opened up the window,
the street noise came crashing in.
Pushing sadness in the hole
where my heart once should have been.
I see the crumpled bed sheets,
where the two of us would lie.
It’s hard to see what happened,
through these tears filling my eyes.
It feels like a hundred years,
though it’s just been a few days.
You walked out that slamming door,
and left me here in this haze.
I can’t eat and I can’t sleep,
it’s too hard to even think.
But I’ve become an expert,
on how much a man can drink.
I’ve had gin, I’ve had whiskey,
had champagne and rot-gut wine.
Vodka, scotch, rum, and bourbon,
brandy and beer in a stein.
Jim Beam and Seagram’s Seven,
two Buck Chuck and Boone’s Farm wine.
Had me thinking of the end,
came close to crossing that line.
They say time will heal all wounds,
and that I would soon forget.
If I was a gambling man,
I still would not take that bet.
This city’s lonesome rhythm,
has me tied up in a noose.
You coming back here to me,
is the knife to cut me loose.
Neon signs choke out the moon,
all those bright lights blind the stars.
The streets are filled with the songs,
of lost souls and unhealed scars.
Since you walked away from me
and tore my whole world apart.
Add one more sound to that tune,
the beat of my broken heart.
Underage drinking has taken its tolls on all the teenagers today, including the ones under
the age of 21. It's been affecting the minds of all young people for years to come. I'm
told that drinking too much alcoholic beverages, including vodka, can not just mess up
their brains, but will have lest them hungover for at least two days. What I really don't
like about underage drinking is when these teens are trying to put their own lives and the
lives of others. The parents should've been informed that there was going to be a lot of
underage drinking at all unsupervised parties. Everybody knows that all underage kids,
including the ones who are currently attending middle school, really shouldn't be drinking
alcoholic beverages, let alone beer, and they really shouldn't be using fake I.D.s to buy
liquor at any store possible. Those store clerks should also know that should they sell
alcoholic beverages to minors that they could be fined $500 and/or spend some time behind
bars. there's no way that these kids are going to be drinking a lot of drinks, filled with
alcohol. They're better off spending Saturday nights at the movies, at restaurants, or
with their parents. If these underage kids keep drinking all alcoholic beverages behind
the backs of their mothers and fathers, then they'll die of alcohol poisoning. Now I know
why I never drank any alcoholic beverages, let alone margaritas or wine. Now I also know
why I'd never gone to any of those unsupervised parties, filled with underage drinking.
I'd rather keep a clear mind than having a hungover head after drinking to many drinks.
That's why all parents should get involved in the lives of their would-be teenagers and
talk to them about underage drinking. And if this keeps up and all teenagers keep drinking
alcoholic beverages, including whiskey, then all of their parents will be in for a rude
awakening.
O' me favorite sport must be drinkin.'
That's the way that God made me I'm thinkin.'
For it seems without fail,
If I start quaffin' ale,
That the landlord will send me home stinkin.'
There once was a man named O'Dean
Who wasn't too bright or too keen
He sneezed at the bar
Filling everyone's jar
And, that's why our beer is now green
A Pirate Drinking Song
Yo-Ho-Ho and a bottle of rum
Pirates sing to the pipe and drum
North wind blows with a Gale's horn
Snapping the canvas with a deafening mourn
Battles are fought, plunder is sought
To ports abound, it is Rum that is bought
We ride the waves seeking adventure and plunder
It is Neptune’s wrath we curse, by thunder
The sea, she bares a woman’s desire
To set each sailors heart a fire
Battles are fought, plunder is sought
To ports abound, it is Rum that is bought
Canon and cutlass, powder and gun
We cut down are foes, one by one
To Davy Jones locker our souls will sleep
A funeral of apathy in the briny deep
Battles are fought, plunder is sought
To ports abound, it is Rum that is bought
With a hardy crew and an open sea
It’s a pirating life I want for me
Till then we will sing of the scallywag scum
Yo-Ho-Ho, Another bottle of Rum
Drinking and Playing
Drinking and drinking Irish whiskey and red wine
They all thought they saw a spotted giraffe recline
Statistics say play
Oh ya, come what may
then they started playing with a fat porcupine.
Written: 4/14/15
Theresa Marie
I don’t have a drinking problem
I drink til I get drunk
Then I stumble home
Where I live all alone
And I diddle my own junk.
I don’t have a drinking problem
The problem is you see
When I am sober
I look the world over
And the world has a problem with me.
So I go to the neighborhood bar
Start with a whiskey and beer chaser
Every one of them that I belt down
Acts like a problem eraser.
All my troubles disappear
Then I fall off of the stool
I don’t see
What the problem can be
So, what’s the matter with you?
I don’t have a drinking problem
I drink til I get drunk
Then I stumble home
Where I live all alone
And I diddle my own junk.
I don’t have a drinking problem
The problem is you see
When I am sober
I look the world over
And the world has a problem with me.
So I go to the neighborhood bar
And put down a pint or ten
Soon all the old biddies there
Start looking beautiful again
I start flirting with the ladies
Must of’m older than me Mum
Then I pinch all the lasses
Upon their big asses
And get tossed out on me bum.
I don’t have a drinking problem
I drink til I get drunk
Then I stumble home
Where I live all alone
And I diddle my own junk.
I don’t have a drinking problem
The problem is you see
When I am sober
I look the world over
And the world has a problem with me.
So, I go to the neighborhood bar
Where I drink all day and night
My beer muscles start growing stronger
And I go looking for a fight
My slurred words start the trouble
My pushing eggs it on some more
I get punched in the eye
And in my reply
My face hits on the floor
I don’t have a drinking problem
I drink til I get drunk
Then I stumble home
Where I live all alone
And I diddle my own junk.
I don’t have a drinking problem
The problem is you see
When I am sober
I look the world over
And the world has a problem with me.
With alcohol coursing through my veins,
I sense and feel the best of my pains.
With double resolve to amend my aims,
I can’t believe I really want to.
Oh Alcohol! Oh Alcohol! Oh Alcohol!
you are the balm and bane
to my existence;
and yet, if I must choose,
I choose the balm to my existence.
As I tear through the shadows of my life,
I know that thou art with me,
every time I pour a glass of fine red wine,
or a stout shot glass Irish whiskey,
I marvel at the sound and tenor of this fine alcohol
as it moves in waves and slaps the inside of the glass of choice.
The sound it makes is indeed notable and quite pleasant.
As they say in the German:
“das macht ein gutes Geräusch.”
-or-
“das macht eine klangvolle Wonne.”
With alcohol coursing through my veins,
melancholy is never one of my pains.
This emotion is not allowed
nor will I ever be cowed,
and depressed—as some suggest:
to slump, to sulk, and to sit in the corner
crying over what might have been.
When drinking and thinking and being, and—
with alcohol coursing through my veins,
I do indeed savor the sound of fine alcohol being poured
to quite rightly ensure that I will never be bored.
As they say in the German:
“das macht ein gutes Geräusch.”
-or-
“das macht eine klangvolle Wonne.”
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen, Germany
(August 24, 2014)