Best Hangover Poems
“The death lasts an average of 49 days, starting from the day the deceased realized his death”. Bardo Thodol (The Tibetan Book of the Dead)
I beg you, death, pour me the final sip
of your elixir of the dreamless sleep.
Oh, strongest wine of darkness in the glass
I’ve dipped my lips just seven weeks ago,
which bitter sweetness promised to bestow
upon me an oblivion. Alas,
the everlasting boozer comes around.
He’s mortal as of now, he is bound
to see another one anemic dawn
of consciousness among the smoking ruins
of non-existence. Curse you all, the brewings
and the distilleries of death! The morn
of a new life is painful. The hangover,
the nausea, the ache - that's all what's left
of my sweet void. Oh, the internal heft
of being!.. The phlox, the marigold, the clover
on my fresh grave are still in bloom but I
am born again to suffer and to die.
her mannequin flesh and acidic eyes dragged his inner beasts of burden from his bones and ruined them both. the subtle silence of bitter thoughts and broken promises creep through their pores and violates their veins. love is a marionette, twistedly dancing without ever touching the ground, mocking almost lovers and the corpses of letters written in bloody tears. he said, "be my coffin", her response was a peck on the cheek and the slamming of a door.
Oh my!
Halloween night
Of fun and spooky fright
Moonlight creating flickering
Shadows
Children
Quite elated
Trick-or-treating with friends
Who’s creepiest with make-up and
Costumes
Evening
Getting cooler
Night is getting darker
Children walking with bright flashlights
Chilling
Goblins,
Haunted houses,
Black cats, witches on brooms,
Owls hoot, bats silhouette the moon
Eerie!
Carved out
Spooky pumpkins
Glowing flickering eyes
Watch out for small ghost and goblins
Door sign
Grumpy
Children to bed
Sick with crampy tummies
Halloween candy hangover
Nightmares
10/17/2015
Children Story
My parents didn’t celebrate Halloween so I didn’t have the pleasure of the fun ... I always made my boys their costumes and painted their faces. When Halloween evening came around my friends and I would walk our children around the safe neighbor hoods.
They used to have so much fun.
Summer warms the sloth
he stirs,
oh to have your energy.
We celebrated
We danced happily and let
our joy out with pride
Furry tongue, dry mouth
Head throbing in guilty pain
WHY?..Did I get so drunk.
when the night
calls it a day
our fingers separate,
there we are, apart
and hurting.
The dark circles around my eyes,
made people think it is insomnia.
But I know the reason behind!
They think it is bradycardia
But it only happens, when I look at you
No one knows the reason behind
me suffering from asphyxia. what to do
but I was breathless with your thoughts!
Everyone assumed it to be oneirophobia,
But in reality, I don't wanna miss you even in my dreams!
When I wander in my own world, fully immersed in my own thoughts,
They think I'm schizophrenic, they think I'm paranoid.
But in fact,that's Euphoria!
The immense happiness I get, thinking of you!
People think I'm weird or got drunk,
when I'm still haunted by your words
but that's just a hangover! a hangover of your thoughts!
I've hoisted too many Haikus
backed by several Senryus
My Questionku it would seem
where to point Monoku stream
and where to dump Dodoitsus
I use to be a two fisted drinker,
always getting myself totally blitzed.
Now I'm just a social drinker.
Three drinks and that's it,
because the hangovers I'd experience would linger on for days,
leaving me in a very deep depressed state
and who in their right mind would want to feel that way?
Certainly not me. Good bye hangover days.
I can't remember and she won't let me forget.
HE beat me with his battered words.
He deceives me with with deceptful ways.
I live in his darkness of pain and loniness.
I long for his infidelity.
I taste his anger for me.
I sawllow his beating on me.
I look into his eyes. I see his hatred for me.
I drink myself drunk, until my love is a hangover.
garden hands caress
herbal scents intoxicate
sharp bee sting sobers
Copyright, July 1, 2017
When the emerald eyes of Ireland
were clocks ticking in the sky
my brain was drowning in the sofa
trashing against a tide
Anxiety levels raised like a black
mamba in the grass, her poison set
a timer running to see how long I'd last
As toes started to wiggle the heart
thumped out its beats, memories of
that night's gig were, for certain, incomplete
Eyes had not yet opened to the horror
which lay within until the smell of vomit
found a path from the green waste paper bin
An ashtray filled with worries sat beside a
vase of wilted flowers I removed myself from
the sofa and sank thirteen shots of powers
I will admit to being confused
my face this morning, looks contused
I have memory none of what went on
where I was or what had on
I appear to be wearing womens’ clothes
and there’s something strange tickling my nose
Down below’s all intact, I checked before
with zealous tact
The strangest writing’s on my chest, sort of
text-speak, rhyming jest
And using mirror I read on, appears
quick-written by a girl called Ron
Rhymes with duck and punt and rum
and parting statement says “what fun!”
Wallet’s full, I don’t despair but
something sticky in my hair?
Trying to rise from out my lair,
I see I’m handcuffed to the chair
But what’s more vexing is the sign
on front room window’s polished line
The man in here, should get a medal
he’s fun and such a sexy devil!