Best Drunk Poems
I drove home from a party one winters night
I'd had quite a few drinks but I felt alright
It was pouring rain as I approached our town
My girlfriend said to me, "John will you slow down" .
I turned up the volume of my favorite song
And pressed hard on the pedal speeding along
I was oblivious to everything that lay up ahead
And failed to see a traffic light that was on red.
A blue car suddenly appeared right before me
I found out later it was a young man and his family
There was a loud bang as my airbag deployed
My first thoughts were my boss will be annoyed.
Next thing I knew there were blue lights all around
It was eerily peaceful there wasn't a sound
I just felt so tired all I wanted was my bed
Looked at my girlfriend and I saw she was dead.
The big shock of it all made me come to
I thought this is a bad dream; it can't be true
A fireman got me out; he had to cut the door
There was glass, metal and blood all over the floor.
Everything was surreal and I woke up in a cell
And this was just the start of my living hell
The four people in the other car they too had died
Along with my girlfriend, I just broke down and cried.
A week later I was in court and I heard a few jeers
The Judge showed no mercy and I got twenty years
Two witnesses were called and said I was to blame
And all I could do was just hang my head in shame.
I'm in prison now all my friends disowned me
And often get flashbacks of that awful tragedy
If only I had got a taxi and chose not to drive
Then those five people I killed would still be alive.
I have trouble sleeping; I just lie there at night
Thinking of a way to try and put things right
A year later I wrote a book telling my story
Called ,The Drunk Drivers Guilt by John.T. McCrory.
If it stops someone driving and having a drink
Or even makes a driver just stop and think
Then my book will have been worthwhile; every single word.
As a warning to others, making my mistakes heard.
Written 24th January 2020
With this napkin as my canvas
A word picture I paint
While he drowns out his sorrows
Until he finally faints
The best works he weaves
Are when unconsciously drunk
While sober and thinking
He writes only junk
While he flirts with the barmaid
Thinking about the sword in his pants
The sword in his right hand
On this napkin words plant
When he wakes with this poem
Stuck to the side of his head
He’ll read it and conclude
He’s the genius instead
Instead of getting credit
For these words that I write
It would be more correct to say written
By Jack Daniels last night
So why are the words
Not slurred or mistyped
Because while the lush was all trashed
His pen was alright
So barmaid pour another
For this bum who holds me
And let’s pray he uses his other hand
When he has to go pee
Whispers
Long and lost
Loud and low
“S e i z e t h e d a y”
Touched my ears,
Poured into my soul,
Vanished my inner ghoul,
The night nostalgic, new,
Nectarous and nefarious,
Feathered my hands,
Floated me from my desk,
I sniffed soul soothing poetry
Intoxicating from the dusty old
Buttery books shelved on, inviting.
I drank one poem,
And another,
Then another,
Until I was dizzy drunk,
My eyelashes winged to the window
And it was dawn.
You see her giddy so you go and pour
Another cup of compliments so fine
She sees the letters swish and longs for more
The connoisseur, you know the best “word wine”
Your rhyme Chablis does best intoxicate
Her reason compromised, she leans on you
Your thirst for her tonight you’ll satiate
For you have longed to taste her rosebud dew
She drinks and laughs and lets you kiss her lips
A sigh escapes, all laced in longings deep
Your hands rove up the bounty of her hips
You hope her eyes don't see your lusting s~e~e~p
When you have had your fill, you leave her there
A logophile with heart exposed and bare
Eileen
Zero to a hundred
Smoke between the ears
An amygdala doing donuts
Simply changing gears
*punch-drunk: Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy
Punch Buggy: a game consisting of punching a person
when a VW Beetle is seen
Friends don't let friends drunk dial
or drunk text
for some reason when alcohol mixes into the bloodstream
it is like a "hit or miss"
some people get drunk or tipsy and want to fight and talk s%*#!
others have a sip of liquor or beer and everybody they encounter is their best friend
I drink to have fun and KNOW my limits
I can drink grown men under the table, and still maintain common sense
I drink and have fun become the life of the party even!
My only downfall is when i drink i have diarrhea of the mouth!
I will tell u my whole life story and more u cannot get me to shut up
Then i grab my phone and call or text the only person i swore i wouldn't
and in the morning i look at my phone and see that i left a long text that can pass for a
short story
and I hold my head down. reluctantly read what i wrote the night before and then ask my girls
"WHY DID U LET ME DO THIS"
lol! My GUILTY PLEASURE...
I LOVE TO WRITE, SO WHEN I GET A BIT TWISTED I EXPRESS MY FEELINGS WITH SO MUCH DETAILS
HELD , CORRECTLY SPELLED AND NO WORRIES HELD
BUT I EXPOSE MYSELF TO THOSE UNWORTHY AND UNDESERVING
IGNORANT OR OBLIVIOUS TO THE OBVIOUS,
AYUDAME! FOR I NEED HELP
DO NOT LET ME TEXT OR CALL ANYONE WHEN UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF AN ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGE
Spiked Drinks Got Them All So Rolling Drunk
Universe spun out of control and died
The planets sputtered out and then fell
The southern boy liked his chicken fried
And preacher's young son rang the old church bell
Hope lost its heart and thus began to cry
The throng laughed away, nobody cared
High sheriff asked, did anybody die
Mike gathered rabbits he had snared
Janet put on blue gown for that night's ball
As her older brother Bill dosed the keg
While white mouse in the corner saw it all
Kelly in miniskirt showed her legs.
Spiked drinks got them all so rolling drunk.
Most f'ed up of all was the local monk.
Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet,
1973
"A prom night to remember"
Dreaming drunk
Teeth grind under the weight of
Time;
An anomalous and vile passage
I writhe in my own grime
Feverish and mad, I cry to my demons
Hope they remember me
As a spirit, untouched, worth life
I have never done it well
Every day passes, hurts like hell
And I miss the spot in the sky from which I fell
And to no avail, I scream out to that sky, but
Whoever He was has left.
I was 468 miles away,
thinkin’, “Baby, would ya catch me on the next one?”
The hairs on her arm would stick up
and she’d think to herself:
Ain’t no way he’s still thinkin’ ’bout me.
Well, listen, honey,
I know I’m a ramblin’, self-centered little prick,
but I gotta be honest—
I shoulda been the one to marry you.
Weeks pass and I forget
the smell of you,
the texture of your lips
and what they did to my soul…
but that’s not what I’m tryin’ to say.
My fiancée is in the other room,
likely entertainin’ a funner guy
who’d offer the moon.
I kill a pint of whiskey,
pass out,
and here I am, dreamin’ of you.
Morning comes, my head throbs,
but my heart hurts worse.
468 miles away,
yet moments ago we danced on the floor.
I kiss my ole lady, one eye open,
guardin’ my throat.
The light peck she gives lets me know
I’m not guilty
for clingin’ to hope—
the hope of seein’ you again,
down on the bathroom floor,
wishin’ you’d come around
just a lil bit more
Rain whipped by,
And the wipers tasked with maintaining sight struggled to keep up.
Despite the wiper’s determination though,
the driver needed not look,
As in his inebriation his control would merely worsen with sight.
The wheels upon which he rode turned quickly,
yet slid along the unstable gravel.
And as the driver lost consciousness,
The road gave way just in time to spite his drunkenness.
First the headlight cracked,
Then the metal upon which the car was supported bent and split.
And finally, the separation between the derelict and his storm gave way:
As the window shattered beyond recognition.
Now,
Rested upon an old willow,
The manifestation of all inadequacies lay;
A young man,
who failed to drive the car upon which fate destined him,
Met his end -
in introduction to the monsters of his irresolution.
I’m ~love drunk on desire~
and feel as if I’m swinging,
legs
dangling,
from a crimson crescent moon
that can even
~seduce the stars without a script.~
See me here.
I’m a longing
scintillating Supernova
in a sky of Prussian blue
trying like a tantalizing Lilith
to tittilate you.
Will you join me in
my ~fever of fixation~?
Blaze for me
like planet Vulcan and
~melt my tears into your sweet fire.~
Shake the sky
that I’m wobbling in
as I ride my passion crescent moon.
Set me to t
u
m
b
l
i
n
g
the way the clouds
~spill a thousand secrets~.
Send me at long last
into your spinning orbit
which I burn for
as do holders of
those thousand cloud-tossed
scarlet secrets.
Entwine me in your arms.
I want to twirl and whirl
inside this night of indigo with you
til each and every star
has flickered out
in
to
o b l i v i o n
(Word encased by ~ symbols represent prompts in the contest)
I get up early, a rancher with chores
Hay grows in fields, animals shuffle, roars
Dawn breaks its steel grey grip on my land
And I, well, I have a clear bottle clutched in hand
The first swipe, the one that burns the most
Clears the head, lifts the fog, begins my dose
Work ahead, hours on the grind
A key in my hand, the tractor is mine
Muddy boots climb my ass to my seat
Prepared I am, for this summer heat
A seperate, full bottle in pocket, the engine is turned
Key to the right, another throat tickle burned
Through the gate on into field I find my day anew
View as of now, not quite so askew
The rows start straight, a farmers simple task
They soon grow crooked, I can't find my flask
Fuel runs low, a hassle to refill
Inebriated I find it easy to spill
Unwiser still, I light up a smoke
Finding my way, to field with a toke
Stoned and drunk I arrive at my field
I'll try it again, a little more even keeled
A drunken chuckle to nobody in sight
What a great poem, another forgotten to write
A vision of an old boss, his hatred of me
I laugh, again, to no person I see
He works all day at his nine to five
And I'm drunk on my tractor, happy alive
Who be th' stenchin' verminous Horsman
what hollers t' th' seafarin' oarsmen
when th' mind's a-fog
where we fest th' grog
why be d'mandin' pennin's of bay men
***All errors are intentional and used merely to facilitate pirate speak.
Submitted by: Buzz O'Words
Written: 3/3/14
Too much Viagra and beer.
My wife was out of town,
I hit every club around.
Each time I'd hope to find
A horny woman here.
Country Bob's was the last place that was open.
Near blind drunk and horny, I was still hopin'.
A pretty woman gave me a glance,
Smiled and said, "Let's dance.
Honey, I'm ridin' if you're ropin'."
A few hours later, I was in a Helluva mess
She was still ridin' hard and screamin', "God, this is the best!"
I was dizzy and light-headed. I had pains in my chest,
But she wouldn't stop long enough to call EMS.
When I came to, I was home in my own bed,
Next to my lovely wife; and this is what she said:
"I picked you up at Country Bob's, my dear;
And there's gonna be some changes around here.
You were fantastic last night, so, I only think it’s right
If I supplement your diet with Viagra and beer."
Viagra and beer. Viagra and beer.
She treats me like a king,
Says I make her body sing;
So, she makes sure I get my Viagra and beer.
Viagra and beer. Viagra and beer.
Yeah, she makes sure I get my Viagra and beer.
We're like newlyweds.
I need a break sometime.
She can’t keep her hands off me.
He stumbled in, as drunk as sin
with a limp and a nose full of red
He ordered cheap gin, and the blood dripped in
As he raised the drink to his head
He sat on the stool,and the drops formed a pool
He could feel all the eyes on his back
He guzzled the fuel, but he kept his cool
As he loaded the balls in the rack
He straigtened his gaze, yet still in a haze
and challenged the room to a game
Then through the maze, with a cigeratte blaze
The surly stranger came
His face was stone, He walked alone
With a beer and a black leather case
with a cue of his own, his cover was blown
On his wrist a tatoo of an ace
He said "I'll take", and he put up his stake
The lushes all gathered around
With a half hearted shake they flipped for the break
While the bartender poured out a round
The stranger broke, with a solid stroke
And down fell the four and the three
This guy was no joke, then he pinched from his poke
and cried out "the next one's on me"!
Ear to Ear grins, as they swilled down that gin
In this stranger, a hero they'd found
They cheered him to win, as he knocked those balls in
they cheered for another free round
He had it won, yes all but one
The eight was final ball
The table run, the lushes stunned
When that sphere refused to fall
Clinching his fist, shocked by his miss
He glared across the table
Like a ship in list from drunken bliss
to stand he was barely able
That drunk cracked a smile, for he knew all the while
That he only needed one chance
In appearance so vile, yet he shot with style
That Gin put him into a trance
His vision was blurred, he mumbled and slurred
Yet to win he would need just one more
And so much as a word, could not be heard
That stranger just stared at the floor
Well he sank that ball, and won it all
and he yelled with a bellowing groan
"before last call just one more tall
And the lushes can all buy their own!"