Best Firewater Poems
In one ghost whisper of a town,
the mourning sunset had bloodshot eyes
A tombstone place that was
long shadow
past it’s boomtown prime
Withering eureka hope fills the short cups
of the abandoned mine folk
Whiskey tears takes a canary desperado gulp
Purgatory waiting ~ Gut rot
has all the suicidal time in the world
to stomach more wasted dreams
On this dying twilight night,
a bad moon is darkly rising ...
as the half-empty
saloon
doors
swing
During visitation of a short desert weep,
a 6-foot four
twin emerald glow mysteriously
steps out of the downpour
A black-cloaked man,
with twelve lead fingernails,
was tapping a cold metal dirge melody
as he walked in
Taking up space for two,
the raven-haired man said to no one in particular,
Death was his sidearm friend
After ordering the strongest bottle
from a shakily, weak-handed bartend ...
the tall, dark-clothed man
saw gambling courage slowly returning
in the pale faces of the paying patrons
Green hue greed shone in the mirror reflection —
his baleful, beryl stare saw that avarice look before
Plenty of bottom card dealt undertaker action
was coming ... coffin photos taken of a bloody floor
Midnight was always the best time
for quick draw ire killings
When drunken surfeit hearts had a belly full
of wanton violence feelings
Losing was the spark
that lit the firewater spillings
Scarlet darkness overshadowed
the cemetery sob kneelings
Cloaked in the mantle of a soul reaper,
the blackness of a red bullet hole
was a grim reminder
to those witnessing the terrifying departure
of slow hand ...
cheating, widow purse keepers —
That a dozen toasts for the living
always were closing-of-the-eye cheaper
Doubting the fire in your heart
Firewater to wash the tears
Laughter hides the rain
Witty lines to overshadow the silence and the pain
Missing Doubts, fired from life’s strains
Acting roles, never I me
The Big screen, keeping you all over there
As I play my own role, hardly can I bare
Enveloped in sadness
No letter inside empty walls
Fulfilled now, the dead poet
The comedic tragedy
Hanging up side down
Too tired, I retire
To the society yonder
Stereotypes
Black people all have rhythm and are good at basketball
Not a single blond in the world has any brains at all
Englishmen have bad teeth and Mexicans are lazy
And if you think the Dutch aren’t cheap, certainly you’re crazy
All Chinese are bad drivers, and hairdressers are gay
Consensus is that Irishmen get plastered every day
Construction workers are all fat from eating too much dinner
Korean people eat doggy meat trying to get thinner
All athletes have large muscles in between their ears
Italians run the Mafia; at least it so appears
Jews don’t pay retail and they all have giant noses
All teenagers are rebels, everyone supposes
All the French are rude, and Poles aren’t very bright
And Hawaiians hit their surfboards long into the night
Asians all have high IQ’s, and Germans are efficient
Nowhere is there a doctor whose judgment is deficient
All Arabs support terror, and Latins make great lovers
All Navahos snort firewater underneath their covers
Every single homeless person’s on welfare ‘cause he’s needy
And try to find a politician who isn’t mean and greedy
All people who are fat have a tendency to be jolly
And women are bad drivers; you can count on it by golly
Lawyers are out to cheat you, as a rule of thumb
But most of all, don’t you think that stereotypes are dumb
Once upon a time in the land of the Hobbits,
Fili was annoyed. He wanted excitement.
He was the youngest of the twelve dwarves,
Dressed in a blue cloak and sporting a yellow beard,
He entered into his tree house in an angry mood.
Up in the attic he sat on a stool and pondered.
That night all fairyland would celebrate
The great feast of Midsummer. And everyone
Would parade his oft practiced skills.
Alas Fili had nothing spectacular to show.
In the dim light of the attic he spied a shine.
Fili had the best eyesight and somehow knew
There below the cupboard lay an alexandrite lode.
It shone and magic oozed out of it.
What could it be? He grabbed it and saw
A parchment with strange signs he could not understand.
Yet in the bottom was written so very clear:
Use me to fly, turn, swirl, but you must
Understand the signs or suffer you will.
A Catherine wheel opened the feast lightning the glen.
Immediately thousands upon thousands of fireflies
Flew around and illuminated the open grassy space.
Elves brought in the beer, sweetmeats, firewater.
The Firstborns danced around the Maypole,
Frog dances abounded as elves escorted the Fairy Queen
To her elaborated decorative throne. She smiled
And after a while she clapped her hers, and amid the clapping
She gave the sign that the much sought contest can start.
To be continued
All top hats and class,
like the gentleman who knows
how to throw you against a wall;
Words so cordial
but hand him a guitar
and everything comes unhinged;
Leaving you hallucinating
on that beautiful scream;
He’s never less than firewater;
Pure fire water;
Stealing the sound echoing in your head,
Grabbing you
like he’s kissing your hand;
Right before fracturing your jaw again;
All suave with a perfect touch
like the gentleman who knows too much,
and how to dance;
No need for any kind of buzz
He’s already firewater;
Pure firewater;
Baby, just hand him that guitar;
He’ll take you where you want to go
He’s the matchstick, detonate delicately;
He’s never less than firewater,
Pure firewater.
How wicked the tricks of your serpent’s lair
a lingual place of wild mango magic behind caliente lips
where a supple sensualist lies in seductive ambush—
rum on the rocks spices the red bed of your taste buds
libation temptation whets my wish like a knife on stone
medieval my want to stir my tongue in your firewater
my fingers a captivated trellis
jealous and zealous carefree and careless
find their way to getting lost in your midnight curls
S curves wind from devil depths to bind
aroused fingers— coiled accomplices hold me captive
as I’m pulled in with potion-puncture fangs
piercing my heart deep piercing my soul sweet
eyes of winter blue skies belie your stealth
l i p s heat-seek as you place your face to mine
tongue flicks for a taste ah flirts with lust-basted taste
yes y e s s s press your whispering mouth on mine
my mouth blooms like a dusk-loving moonflower
throat white against night my breath your honeysuckle
unholy hunger unleashed a famished desperation
my desperation so full of babydoll flame and ash
your jaw unhinges to swallow whole my fire and ire
oh bend me like a willow in the tongue-tie of your kiss
break me take me make me buy the bliss in your hiss
feed me fantasies I need to cede lace without chains
as hush-winged-talons scythe bloodstreams of dreams
bleed me in the weed greed of your sidewinding river
‘til you shed my love the way a constrictor sheds skin
I crave to tame you claim you
make you my burlesque feather boa—
your lightning I’d capture
and wear your glamour with rapture
instead of being your convenience pet kept
Anonymity is my name
Alcohol was the beast
I couldn’t tame
At another Double A meeting
get to hear some more shame
Rehashed,
warmed over war stories,
they all sound the same
Now, it’s my turn
to go to the center of the room
Announce my name is ...
then darkly tale my gloom
Decaying gray matter tissue
is rotting my brain
Brow-beating spouse, anger issues ...
did I share enough pain?
Look up at the clock,
it’s almost Happy Hour again
The time when I squash sad memories
by ordering another tonic and gin
I’m talking to some stranger’s friend
when the dreaded blackout begin
Wake up in a cluttered room;
don’t know where I am, don’t know with whom
Plane ticket in my pocket
says I’m in the city by the Bay
And that my name is ...
perhaps an alias
Don’t remember if it was the same one
that paid the bill yesterday
Missed the ninth step,
fell down the stairs in the hallway
I feel that dragon breath
breathing down the back of my neck
Firewater always did help me to forget
what my name is ...
Start all over again today,
go to another meeting my guilty conscience say
Get another sponsor to Sherpa the way,
as the matter in my brain is losing more gray
Going down the same worn out steps,
only in a different place
Glumly greeting another new face,
dragging that heavy ball and chain
Go sit somewhere in the back,
and remain anonymous ...
just wallow in my pissy, drunken pain
Got a hangover pounding in my head,
clanging ... nonstop banging ... alarm bells ringing
Nobody but me and the bottle to blame
As I try so hard to remember
what was my given birth name
First you lemming sway to the left,
then you ostrich sway to the right
No straight talk movement is motive necessary
on Leper Rabbit Foot Devil’s Night
Now a-moral slug limbo very Dixie Antebellum low ...
just how deep down apartheid dirt South can you go
Next, Pharisee kangaroo court jump so Sadducee sky high ...
just how crucifixion far Siberian gulag North can you fly
Shadow dance of oppression,
next gen protesters
gotta learn yesteryear’s lesson
Mamba flag march
to the Caesar marionette bayonet beat
Rumba puppet roll
to the Roman Pied Pier a-patriotic feet
Duckie, duckie walkie ...
chicken-heart, no-ruffle web toe shuffle
Head bobble, leg wobble ...
knee bending to the sound byte kerfuffle
Demonic oppression prance,
lifetaker
pull the plug from the socket
Snatch the idol coins in the purse
Serpentine shadow dance,
rainmaker
shake down the lewd pockets
For the brimstone firewater curse
Lastly, you chimp chump,
Wall flower lean saber rattle swing to the left
Then swine sucker,
lip-pucker snail snivel hip wiggle to the right
Do a cockatrice crush move lying groove on your scaly belly
No straight gate, pearly truth motion is required tango telly
Miller Light, Bud light
such a Delight
Fireball, Firewater
never hotter
Jack Daniels, Jim beam
way stronger than you seem
Vodka, Everclear
worst nightmare
Budweiser, Busch
sicker than a dog, who smells his own toosh
Smirinoff and wine
You will be bored and deffinatly fine
Southern comfort, and Coke
thiss really sucks, no joke
Jager Bombs
MMM, Better have a good job (they are expensive)
Crown royal, Royal crown
best Sh^^^ in town
The Swan King.
Fine fibre lashes flicker, flutter.
Sailing trance-like on warm reflected glass,
Royal icing sculpture, still Lily-White feathers.
Ripples giggling, Dragon Flies dipping,
Sticklebacks cha-cha clumsily within own shadows.
as pulsing circles steady...peaceful.
Lilac Water-lilies whirl-curl open,
as perfumes whoosh! Midges hypnotic.
Verdant reeds stand stiff, honouring dawn’s yellow-zest ribbons,
as a frozen Butterfly poses for flight.
‘S’ curved, sparkling neck, full-stop onyx pupils,
he glance-glares at a Mallard trio...
olive flecked necks scuba dive in shell-pink wellies,
then line-dance...
’One-two, one web forward,
two-three, one web back.
four-five shake booty!’
Rainbow Trout ker-plop leap in this shrine-still lake,
mountains laminate into silver firewater.
As a billion tiny stars come together enhancing wizard–white plumage
the Swan Queen follows his webbed tracks.
Wisps of twirling mist creep in gentle hush,
lovers serenely drift beneath skies of solar-blue,
on bluish-wine water, saturated in Heaven–leaking light,
a fading fairytale vanishes into Moonlight’s magical veiled silk voile.
Zotëri Count Dracula
is a terrible, Transylvanian host
Mister Tarantula Fangs serves watered down
fermented, sour liver compost
I know
because my Planet Terror peep Tarantino
said so
Vladdie’s batty bandë
campy lip sync way too much on the fly
Playing air guitar riffs
that’ll make any party stiff Mummy die
This I know
because my dungeon babe Elvira
en-crypt texted me
the down-low
Domnule Wolfman
Were a bad-tempered, English bog bloke
Mister Aristy Lycantrophe takes liquid
anger management medication
This presto change-o firewater potion
got a mean Romanian bite
It ain’t no Jekyll-and-Hyde Howling joke
Please Pumpkinheads, don’t ask me
how I know ...
Because my cannibal pal Hannibal L.
said it’s a sacred doctor/patient violation
to divulge this info
So my tasty Mikey Myers marshmallows,
gather ‘round
the strobe light, crystal ball cellar campfire
Get Jiggy Saw off the hook Hostel
Just how slasher far,
Rocky Horror Picture Creepshow
do you wanna go?
Old school, vintage reel macabre Blob snuff action:
Vic and Frankie Boy, lab cadaver number one son,
will do a drunken, shrunken head dance
with Morticia and Harley Quinn
Be advised,
not to Monster Mash skull butt in
So have some Terminator fun
you Alien party animals
Lose all Nightmare on Elm Street bladder control
Take a Bughuul trickster treat
out of the Jeeper Creepers Candy Man belly bowl
There’s only one parasite Thing,
death notice Lurch doorbell ring, to remember
at this Pet Semetary open house invitation:
When you give a Skeleton Key
Premature Burial ghoul greet,
the proper zombie etiquette scream
must be 1408
ten shivers delivered
Hellraiser late
Cower in fear,
when you see the floating head
of Jacob Marley's ghost ...
his haunting eyes telling you —
Don’t cross the host,
at his own Halloweenie roast!
The beer gardens of hatred
are in full bloom
Fermented flowers
of genetic flaw fanaticism
is tavern fomenting
Foaming anger is being violently spread
on the winds of agitation
Upside down cloud nines are bar code vex tripling,
as the weak-willed urge to vomit resist
are whether vain wilting
Autumn spring retrograde progress
has mid-summer arrived
with wintry ease
Sweet wine lying words of fermented pollen
are sourly spreading
Milk poppy discourse is being frost frothily heard —
There’s pandemic fear in the air,
traveling rabidly on the mockingbird wings of despair
The pandemonium lips in the beer gardens
are bar stool pigeon flapping
Sable syntax stamens love the pagan pistil sound
of the sin text send stammering
Wavy flagellate foams of intoxicating hate
invectively spew the inebriated seeds
Suggestive bound violent strings
move the petal puppets on a pollen blown breeze
Oh such a stinging, jingoism buzz ...
making nettle hearts grow nightshade numb,
darkly drunk with power
Paralyzing the budding morals within
the partakers thereof
Plastic bottle souls, empty of empathy,
litter the fallow ground of those fermented gardens
Lemming plants so bloodthirsty
for the brimstone reign
carrying cursed firewater pollen
In the spirit of lowered expectations,
loyalty that’s street corner bought
This Oval Office recommendation
was given very little brothel thought
It was stamped with misogynist approval:
he’s a mighty fine spouse beater, first-rate
Just a good professional, abusive soulmate,
no need to investigate the first wife removal
This walking, angry crew-cut ticking bomb carrot top
comes highly recommended by the chief of staff
With a couple of cold brewskis, he will brawl it all out,
er, I mean ... bawl it all out, like a little bitty calf
He’s so Ivy League smart ... harmless as an Alabama tick,
just don’t ruffle his hawk feathers, or suffer the mule kick
It’ll knock your front teeth out, give you a real pretty black eye ...
I’m telling you, he ought to be your company’s new PR face guy
Did I mention, he really knows how to gin up the charm,
pint-size lunchtime doses will trigger his firewater alarm
So you best hide him secret good,
give him top-notch, straight jacket security protection
Don’t report the things you should —
we here at the White House didn’t learn our spin lesson
This suit comes with gold star recommendation invisible,
dust for prints on his portfolio before the law do though
Any damaging domestic violence FBI report
need to be OO executive toilet flushed
This clandestine meeting has to be cut short,
and kept on the down low hush-hush
Burn the rug,
burn the house down
Swing on the chandelier,
like a monkey thug
Wobble around the room,
like a drunken clown
Dance with the devil,
go let his liquid fire ways lighten your sorrow
Night time reverie daze ...
fermented guarantee to bury your tomorrow
Burn the rug,
burn the house down
Crawl on the dirty floor,
like a drunken slug
Smoky glass cask doom,
wears a Happy Hour frown
Dance with the devil,
who darkly lives in a corked bottle
Spin the serpentine arrow,
kiss the blackout memory throttle
Burn the rubber,
burn the vehicle upholstery
Kill a few innocents standing by;
watch the flames rise,
as they swallow your sobering cries
Dance with the devil,
drink the icy firewater on a greedy gut drown
Let pure stagger stupor evil
get you careening down
Perdition Road,
listening to the crash of a wailing siren sound
She drank the purifying firewater
(purer than the purest alcohol)
from the fountain where all can drink to the full.
Then she immersed herself.
She emerged with the fire in her eyes
and came close to the beggar in the ditch
and the pope within the palatial estate.
Her words and deeds became the titanium arrows
drawn red-hot from the furnace of his chest.
He had died of that hunger so intense
it produced the bloody sweat
that fell to the ground
and mixed with the dirt of the earth
and covered the surrendering wood.
(The dry wood burns best.)
The fire can’t help itself from burning.
It transforms into itself whatever comes near.
It dries up the dankness of conceit.
She preached the atonement
of both the furnace and the fountain.
She took on the air of the unquenchable flame.