Best Drunken Poems
~twice the beauty~
in the sea of love
reflection of the night
a wave moves
~SKAT~
May one love you like Shakespeare?
Write verses to bring you near.
In delicate sighless sips,
taste wine from your drunken lips,
as drops induce and seduce,
become drunk from your sweet juice.
~ Injustice Moon Among Us ~
deeper than twilight
the moon to moon afterglow
a wave crush the mood
***
Stereotype motion
Two face under water
Human injury
(Senryu of Being Misjudged)
*DRUNKEN POET*
There I see him sitting like a dummy.
Asking me for more shots of rummy
Talking about his detox days.
Talking about his poetic ways.
Rhyming my eyes comparing them to the moon.
Whispering lines saying he wants too spoon.
Next thing you know his words start getting deep.
Poeting out words revealing he's the family's black sheep.
His blood shot level was releasing his emotional word.
Dreaming that I was in a bath like a dirty bird.
Intoxicated with a breath so refreshing.
Designing me a thousand passionate ones in the meshing
Falling for his physical and mental temporary drunken state
His sense of intellectual things where hitting me real straight.
Swallowing his words like a forbidden love potion
I excessively indulged him with more alcohol to inspire his motion
Admitting to me that love was his downfall.
For me he fell from the stars and than began to crawl.
Proposing a toast for the sake of love
Rambling how I'm the only one he's dreaming of
Nourishing me with his ocean water of affection
Re-bonding his words for me to be his resurrection
Call me crazy for feeling the connection!
Allowing him to penetrate his poetry in me like an injection.
A character so loving above a 99% liquor proof test.
Romancing me with the disguise that he is the best.
Restraining myself from this drunken poet called my husband
Remembering that he is the one fool I can not stand
In his most charming rhyme he called me his rehab.
By that time I knew it was time to call him a cab.
Reminding him about his Alcoholic Anonymous class.
Now all of a sudden he starts acting like an a$$!
Putting his drunken sober poet mind to sleep.
Anyways tomorrow he will still be the same poetic romantic creep!
BY: P.D.
Bloody rude drunken pen has enjoyed a nib of ink or two, reminiscing on a few
Bad and ugly times, we both admit at times things were, a bit of a mess,
All kinds of intertwined, confused but along the way making some progress
On the grand masterpiece of all masterpieces – writing bliss
At first polite, we take in turns, to interject with collaborative words,
Until the air hits us hard, take a breath, where’s your etiquette, manners and respect,
My turn pen, I command, continue on to write, scribbling like an erratic bird’s nest.
Pen resists and spits its ink, a dirty blob from its nib…how rude
All smudged and slurred is a dribbling rambling of everything crude
Across the page leaking its ink, clearly from excessive drink
Dancing on thin ice, my drunken pen decides to try and entice
Inviting me to envelope, his muscular body with smooth fingers
Such fraternisation you drunken sleaze, how do you expect to please
The love of your life, giving you permission to write and express your ink with ease
Drunken pen is at a loss as reflects on his drunken state, its very late
Blubbering relaxed words across the page, deep within and obscure
Then I realise that my drunken pen is sometimes a little insecure
He has a way of making me melt when I think of his 50 shades of blue
Each drink of ink that fills his nib, that prints our words, that stains my skin
Is in every way the partnership of creative bliss and my perfect hue
2nd October 2012
Written for Drunken Pen - Part 2 Contest
Whiskey Lips So Sublime
Whiskey Lips step now over the line of true fire-water,
As a warm-burning brings forward one glowing sign.
The golden mead of sweet mountain dew appears now,
As each golden drop sighs it moment of escape and as
The alcohol signals and sparks the wildest of spirits in
One’s own true self!
This moment of sublime ecstasy excites and sparks your
Deepest inner-spirit and you begin to slur and sing loudly,
As your mind begins to reel from the drunken delight of
Your very own intoxicating breaths—noble, yet stupid,
As you become drunken forever under each psychic sip
You taketh from the deepest pool in the very depths of
Your eternal soul!
Your very eyes now glaze over a breathless message
You have found in the cheapest of whiskey bottles.
Saying a divine prayer to Almighty God Himself,
You open the bottle cork now and take notice that a
Little genie pops out of nowhere and begins to take all
Three of your mythic wishes granted together into one!
With that, this little genie shall begin dancing and singing
An ancient Irish whiskey song in your presence into the
Wee hours of the morning until you both pass out and fall
Into a drunken stupor with your whiskey lips so sublime!
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid, A Collaborated Poem
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – July 23, 2018
(Free Verse)
I heard Congress was spending money like a drunken sailor
And I thought this was disrespectful
Congress spends like they are obsessed
For the future they’re neglectful
It’s disrespectful to drunken sailors
It is totally wrong what they say
Drunken sailors never spent
Assuming their grandchildren would pay
I was once a drunken sailor
And you know what’s really funny
I always stopped spending
Whenever I ran out of money
Congress are elitist bastards
So let this story be known
When drunken sailors spent that money
They only spent their own.
Congress has no conscience
Part of the political machines
They can spell INTEGRITY
But they don’t know what it means
I’d rather be a drunken sailor
And spend only what I amass
Than to spend it like a congressman
And be a horse’s (OH!! You know what I mean)
BMC Vince Suzadail Jr USNR-Ret.
lovely and tipsy
blue moon dips into the sea
falling dreamily
______________________________
July 2, 2015
Poetry/Haiku/drunken moon
Copyright Protected, ID 15-6860-85-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Drunken Moon,
sponsor, Skat
Third Place
This is really kind of a sad story
But please sit yourself down
For the words I'm going to bestow upon you
Will make you feel your watching a drunken clown
As I bow to gracefully greet you
My silly hat suddenly slips from my head
As I look to the ground and try to focus on it
I feel as if I should have stayed home in bed
Bending over I slowly reach for it
Then feel my face suddenly kissing the ground
Now the happy smile that I painted on my face
Has been smeared into a big ugly frown
Standing back up and trying to gather myself
I slowly begin to reach into my empty hat
But the dove that was supposed to be hidden in there
Is no longer where it should be at
So I reach to my sleeve for some flowers
Only to notice they are no longer there
I happen to pull out some fine ladies undies
To my amazement I think,what a nice pair
Then I reach to my other sleeve for something
Though so afraid of what it might be
I pull out a picture of my drunken self standing
In a photo box by a bar,casually taking a pee
In such embarassment I then begin to stumble
These big floppy shoes are too heavy for me today
I then reach into my pocket to find this here poem
Leaving me wonder,how will I to pay off my bar tab this way
Danny Boy Kearley:1-14-13
Not at all a true story..Ha,ha...
Just some silly words from my head(Hic-up)
:o)
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Moon is hung over
the same scene she lit last night
washed out at sunrise
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
drinking in the night
fully mooning the night sky
embarrassed sinks low
By Richard Lamoureux
For SKAT's Drunken moon contest.
Written June 4th, 2015.
Drunken Moon
the drunken moon spots
its own reflection and thinks…
earth’s tipsy again
07-03-2015
Contest: Drunken Moon Contest
Sponsor: SKAT A
Placement: 6th
**blood moon**
Waiting for night fall
The moment of love is made
The moon is bruised
~a poet destroyer collaboration~
Harvest night
-in his wine glass
a spinning moon
Contemporary Haiku
3/6/4
FrUm thE NUMB TuM Of A BuM RuM sPiL
L
L
S
hE sAyZ RUnUuM kILLZ the LIvEr
BUut LoVe KiLLZ mY HeARt
IvE CoNcluded ThAt thEIR Both
the ReasONZ I bEcAmE A BuM
FrUm ThE sTART
FrUm thE NUMB TuM Of A BuM RuM sPiL
L
L
S
(BuRp) CaNt wAit tO BEEE rICh aGAIN
AnD NoOo mAtteR hOW BiG hEr aSs is
I woOonT gEt mRried toO a GolD DIGGin
HarLeT AgAin NoO nOT AGaiN mY fRienD
bEcominG 1 WiHT ThE EsSeNce oF HuMbLe
POveRty IZ tHe The BesT wAy To EvaDe tHe
DeViLs traps WiZe & HuMble Are ThOse WHo
SeTtle foR whAt YOu wOuld CaaaLL ScrAPs &
KNowinG ONe DAy JESUS WILL COME B
A
C
A M R A - - - - - K
AnD WhEn He DoeS MY ONLY SIN wILL bE ConsumptioN Of rUM
sO yOU CAN LAuGH At at ummmmmmm
oh yea laugh at us DruKeN BuMMMMmms
BuT iN HeaveN We wIll HaVe morE ThAn a CrumB and A bottlE of rUm
AND wHeN tHe LoRD DenieS YOU at the gate please dont Ask how COME
Because he wiLl say yOU were
SelfisH,GREEDY,And called the
BuMS STInkyy and DuMMMMMM
And pluS aLL You gave Him WaS a CRUMMMM!!!
I SWEar you RicH Folks Are DuMMMMMMMMM!!!!
FrUm thE NUMB TuM Of A BuM RuM sPiL
L
L
S
with
T
R
U
T
H