Best Inebriating Poems
Stumbling all over the sidewalk....
Eyes completely glazed.
It was something that had to be done,
It was one of those kind of days.
So after work, I went to the store,
With only one thing in mind....
To take the edge off of my soul,
To leave this day far behind.
I took my first shot, and started to feel great.
I took my second shot, and began to celebrate.
Third shot, fourth shot, fifth shot....
I kept on going.... it felt so good.
Plans to stop? I think not.
I began to smile and laugh at the inebriating pleasure,
Of knowing I could end the day, happier beyond measure.
I walked down the road, dazed and out of it....
When I got the phone call.
I answered with a slurred speech, "hello!"
"Let's go buy things from the mall!!!"
"Let's ride down the street with the music up loud,"
"I feel so good right now, as if I'm on a drunken cloud."
Little did I know, upon reaching my destination,
I fell down to the front porch, drowned in inebriation.
I was too gone....
I was way too gone....
I crept up the stairs into my room,
Not making one single peep.
Tripped over my daughter's toys and passed out....
I fell fast asleep.
Categories:
inebriating, adventure, america, angel, city,
Form:
Blank verse
The Birth
1
Breathe baby—breathe.
2
Out of the darkness of night
crept the dawn;
steaming with thirst
the dry mouth sun rose
inebriating its self
with the morning dew—
leaving empty blades of grass
scattered across the landscape.
3
The lazy old sea
urged on by quite winds
laboriously spat out
lethargic waves—whimpering
tears of fickle frothed faces
repeatedly slapped at the shores.
4
A lone sea gull sliced
through the salt laden air
leaving a pasty white trail—
an umbilical reminder—left
behind the perilous journey’s end.
5
Laying in veranda hammock
of roped womb, I cracked a smile—
whispering to the Creator—singing
praises for yet another birth of day.
Categories:
inebriating, allegory, analogy, birth, celebration,
Form:
Prose Poetry
I am an aged dusky man,
like a bottle of Bordeaux wine,
The older am I,
The Stronger my tipsiness,
I am packed in old Jeroboam bottle;
May be in old filthy bottle,
Yet soul is fresh vigorous,
inebriating wine;
My soul is prisoner under cork,
Once is released,
gravity is at height;
Squirt my wetty aroma,
exhilarates all for fun;
My body may break or perish,
Even may leave me helpless,
Yet am Bordeaux wine, loved by all,
They all know, more the older am I,
More the tipsiness I have;
I am an aged dusky man,
like a bottle of Bordeaux wine;
© Sadashivan Nair.
Categories:
inebriating, age, life, wine,
Form:
Prose Poetry
With mild rays the Sun doth snuggle me in this breezy morn,
Oh Earth, forget thy imminent wintry woes, as Fall placateth thee,
She giveth offerings of raspberries and vines of gorgeous taste,
The senile year will make thee moan with inebriating bounty,
Oh Earth, forget thy imminent wintry woes, as Fall placateth thee,
Benignant nature hath set ablaze the crimson maple today,
The senile year will make thee moan with inebriating bounty,
My desirous mind seeketh solace in nature's succulent arms,
Benignant nature hath set ablaze the crimson maple today,
She giveth offerings of raspberries and vines of gorgeous taste,
My desirous mind seeketh solace in nature's succulent arms,
With mild rays the Sun doth snuggle me in this breezy morn.
2019 October 25
Poet's October Pantoum Cash Prize Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: William Kekaula
Categories:
inebriating, autumn,
Form:
Pantoum
Blond girl on a wheelchair
Eleanor. Motor Neurone her destiny
Purple eyes looking up to the hill terrain
From the shade of her preferred tree
Immobile limbs, travelling dreams
Silent thoughts flowing with the east wind
Up to the peaks scented of amber beams
Pine trees’ branches caressing her forefront rim
Silver rivers from the hill cuddling
Her naked feet into watery whirls
Perfumed petals from sycamores enfolding
A pale and dreaming face of brave dreams
Eleanor. The storyteller, the princess of visions
Impossible to grasp the wind with aching hands
Mind flying to a remote story of Fairy Zinc and Elf Arians
Fiddlers playing with the branches of the Sycamores’ band
Notes dropping as roses on Eleanor’s knees
Now singing to the sparrows her torment
Of inelastic limbs and the joy of her free spirits
Finally galloping on the veil of Fairy Zinc fervent
While Elf Arians was inebriating her senses with spices
Fairy Zinc brought her to a castle of dances and songs and doves
Eleanor’s melody was heard by the trees and sparrows and dragonflies
And by her mother from behind with tearful and silent love
Finally, the last sunbeam, and her flight, higher and higher
Reaching clouds, joining birds, galloping hills, swimming rivers
Walking proudly into woods, mountain peaks, cuckoo birds,
The fairy, and the elf, and the vanishing sun
And then… the deep sleep… her deep sleeps
A pinecone dropping into her basket of crayons
For her friends, a case of drawings and heartily rhymes
Mom pushing the wheelchair of the princess of dreams
“Good night my dear. Sleep well for mom Zinc.
Dad Arians will cuddle your legs and stretch your arms
As the doc said, I have a warm soup for your pain.
Don’t be sad, all your beloved are here”
Eleanor. The princess of dreams
Storyteller, with a basket of poetries and birds
Immobile limbs, mobile spirit and wits
Joy of mom Zinc and dad Arians
Categories:
inebriating, care, children, creation, dad,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Wonderful Anthems
Here and there into symphonies weaving
Words, panegyric words, inebriating
Nations everywhere each with glory beatifying
Faith, love, courage beautifully praising
Ethics, peace and hope in every song, exhilarating
Unity all are calling; freedom dearly holding
Life, shelter, chastity, wonders everyone offering
So many egos awry inflating
Schizophrenic world
Schizophrenic world we are building
False most hymns are sounding
Dissonant words travel to hearing
Peoples slowly, painfully dying
Hunger, famine more land gaining
Casus bellis easily finding
Exclusion, hatred everywhere disseminating
Extolled virtues nowhere, any longer existing
Human fresh flesh cheaply exposing
Scavengers we are all turning
Schizophrenic world
Schizophrenic world we are all building.
Categories:
inebriating, socialworld,
Form:
In the early dawn, the loud barking of my dog
Woke me up;
I arose and went to the door leading out onto
The veranda;
I adjusted the blinds and peeped out with my
Quiet eyes.
Peering out through the palisade of bordering
Trees,
A bright golden-orange glow spread throughout
The forest.
It was as if the night’s meteor shower had lowered
The horizon.
My dog was running back and forth loudly barking
Along the hedges;
It looked as though he was trying to scare a scared
Black cat.
So, I opened the veranda door and stepped out into
The chilling air.
Suddenly, my dog began to howl and wobble as if
He was drunk.
I could hear him whining and could see him swiping
A front paw across his face;
The chilled air was immediately filled with a pungent
Nose and eye-burning odor!
The white streak of fur down the back of what I thought
Was a black cat,
And the inebriating caustic odor confirmed exactly that
Pew! it was not!
No, it was also obviously confirmed that in winter, skunks
Savor stale dog poop!
Categories:
inebriating, animal, dog, funny, hilarious,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Cloaked in black she sat
with covered eyes from a broad rimmed hat.
Encircled in a wispy shade of cerise
that dripped to fade into the fleece.
Lines that linger on the chair
follow her finger like liquid air
as she stencils out the curlicue
depicted with pencils in her view.
Down the wall with a dilatory slither
and intent to enthrall by use of his myrrh
he skillfully eluded his own detection
making her mind his chamber of protection.
His volcanic eyes thrust into her thought
erupting the lust she longfully sought
igniting her vision like a candelabrum
an incision devising her to succumb.
Licking the salt from a lover's lips
speaking the scripts in hum
becoming embossed in indium
and forgetting fault of nothing but tongues.
Silhouetting the cast of questions surpassed
indulging in the treasure of temporary leisure.
Her guard was let down as she started to drown
in the light of the fire and her own desire
Unforeseen antecedently.
A scene drawn out by a welcoming invasion
she remains devout to enamouring persuasion
Still life flickering and unceasing to amaze
Like a liquor releasing inward
The inebriating reward of her very own blaze.
Categories:
inebriating, allegory, dream, imagery,
Form:
Free verse
Tell me those lies
you alone can tell
with that spark in your eyes
as accompanying jest
I’ll take the mirage
of love my friend
hide in a smile
the pain
of a heart lacerated
by claws
hidden in softness
of paws
Trust me it’s love
Autumn tears
falling
open wounds
washing
with sunset leaves
covering
snow gauze softness
capping
from clawing wind
protecting
in arms of love
resting
Trust me it’s love
Sun rays peaking
then hiding
through breeze blown
curtains inviting
to flowering branch
where hiding
love bird is singing
and waiting
for heart to get drunk
on sunlight
dreaming of paradise
awaiting
Trust me it’s love
Pearly moon light
paleness
pupils seem to vanish
from eyes
reversing night sky
into an expanse
of serene blue light
breezy spring scent
inebriating
music of stars
serenading two hearts
circling around each other
Forever in love
Sixt Place Winner: Brian Strand Contest 1290-2/29/24
First Place Winner: Brian Strand-All Yours-3/4/21
Sixth Place: Craig Cornish- Blue- 1/11/19
Sixth Place: William Kekaula- Say It Again- Contest-5/15/21.
Third Place: Brian Strand-No 1203-3/27/23
Categories:
inebriating, love,
Form:
Free verse
In ye old days of yore on Malaga's dreary shore
An untidy castle rimmed by salty moor
Housed a lonely, oft-drunk matador
In briny marsh grazed no sheep, but wild pigs three score
Staggering oft around soggy, muddy estate in boozed, dazed state; prating conquistador
With fitted bed sheet he dodged each, wild, voracious boar
On one fateful eve a rabid boar did his flabby posterior gore
Now ambitions stored, bedded his dreams, salved his sore
'Til one morn, a damsel in distress swooned at his door
Bereft of virility, but saddled with tales of chivalric lore
A hearty tonic the prone maiden he did pore, and spouted tawdry tales galore
Unentranced by availing circumstance, his rambling advances she did ignore
Intoxicated by her lovely essence, her father's residence did implore
Confounded by his incessant inebriating pleas, she fell to the floor
Mistaking her bended knee as fealty to be, he let out a drunken roar
Enraged by his licentious intentions, she yelled, I will not take any more
Mind numbed from numerous droughts, he heard, I am your whore
Giddy, his infertile, limp shaft tried into her sweet mound to bore
But his drooping shaft could not breach her silty core
Frustrated the horny goad reversed positions. riding her till both were saddlesore
Finally breaching the chasm, his spent rod found reeling a chore
But her tapped well gushed and she yelled encore
Now understanding his riding days were over, he cried and swore
His ripening virgin unsatiated bade his pallid pilot her canyon explore
Now contrite, he explained fertile streams no longer from stagnant fount could pore
Giving due penance, purged the dross, and from her steamy vat tore
Forevermore an unfit paramour, jilted matador; who no longer his tainted cape wore
Categories:
inebriating, fantasy, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
It takes
but a moment
for me to pour and stir
your flavors, gazing
in feverish anticipation
Your colors sparkle
unrequited, bubbling and
bumping, triggering
countless sensations
Your fine strong taste
commands
undivided attention, inebriating
my senses and weakening
my knees
Your sounds
hypnotize
my thoughts, leaving me
unable to
move and speak
Every time
you
have me excited
giddy, hopeful and
alive at my best
Before
you
I had never known the wonders of
not being
fully
in control
Categories:
inebriating, allegory, love, me,
Form:
Free verse
Over in the sky,
Inebriating clouds
Wobble no more;
Both snowy, murky sides,
Don't blend together,
To sparkle any more;
Dry lake in wait of rain,
Gaze at scattered clouds;
Entreat thou to forgive,
The sins by living soul;
Supplicate for some drops,
Come, come drop thy
Emotive drops of nectar;
Quench my thirst;
Wet my deep burning soil;
Fertile me so I bloom,
All life form rely on me;
© Sadashivan Nair
Categories:
inebriating, earth, earth day, emotions,
Form:
Prose Poetry
RENAISSANCE UNFULFILLED
Glorious! Glorious! Renaissance
Brought humanity to new heights
Of unbounded creative power,
Look at Florence's splendor
Experience its Medici majesty
Inhale its inebriating beauty
Intoxicate your very senses
With perfect, mastered imperfections
Of tiles, towers and frescos,
There my sensibility awoke
To a persistent, clamoring anomaly
Amongst fashionable vain crowds,
Strolling with contemptuous disdain,
They pretend not to see,
Raw,unadulterated beauty,
There they stood numb,
Fugitives of negated dreams,
Breathing, Ebonic statues,
Perfect creation, muted, invisible,
Staring painfully at the horizon,
Longing, no doubt, for
Sunsets of Africa skies.
E. G. Fialo
Categories:
inebriating, voice,
Form:
Blank verse
Tulips and lilies never smelled
so fragrantly inebriating
by the lake of the half-moon,
I sense the ineffable mystery
of an alluring and serene evening;
remote breezes so unforeseen
and unquestionably redolent
slightly touch the motionless surface
of the silvery and bluish lake so comely
and limpid while drowsy oaks and spruces
sway their long and thick branches...
as if silence were an act of reverence!
In the deserted town strangely
someone sits on the bend of the lake
of the half-moon as he stares
at the luminescent Northern Star
striking the strings of his guitar
with his skilled, young fingers...
suddenly everything harmonizes
with his beautifully played melody,
but he's so amazed by the splendor of the lake
of the half-moon that he doesn't hesitate
to join the invisible nightingales to praise
the indubitable presence of the Creator!
Categories:
inebriating, magic, moon, music, mystery,
Form:
Rhyme
I often visited the prittiest and kindest lady,
who lived by an abandoned, weedy cemetery...
and she told me tales that made me dream;
up that pine-scented and rugged hill, the Devil tripped many times and finally fell:
when her holiness set her gracious face aglow!
And she never cursed God, but continued her creed,
believing that she was put on earth to sanctify love;
and she planted many seeds in the moist garden...flowers that made her life livelier!
Exchanging her pure soul for money, never tempted her:
living happily and continuously blessing God's name;
if that's how one is blessed, many shouldn't need to wonder...
how she never asked anyone for anything...relying on Providence!
Every spring morning she tended to those roses and gardenias,
like mothers care for their adored children; and she sang
opera like a glamorous prima donna on the illuminated stage:
how astonished were the passersby hearing those lovely areas!
Giovanna, lovely prima donna, sing another beautiful area for me,
let me hear how a soprano can feel that divine harmony;
teach me all the lyrics and the tunes that embellish them:
I am a quick-learner and my passion goes beyond my talent!
Giovanna, lovely prima donna, you sought no honors or earthly glory,
and your visions were grander than those idolized singers,
who only asked for applauds and repeats from the cheering crowds;
you had none of these...only this aspiring-tenor-to-be!
I passed by her house yesterday, the shades were pulled down...her garden
without butterflies was arid and the pretty flowers fluctuated no more;
and the tall pines trees didn't offer their inebriating, sweet aroma,
but there was no sound of Giovanna's voice, the voice of the lovely prima donna:
canaries and bluebirds weren't frantically tapping on her closed window!
In a white laced dress, wearing red shoes and a green velvety hat:
she displayed her national pride, recalling the enchanted land of music and poetry,
where her unforgettable childhood was spent with an innocence so free!
Categories:
inebriating, childhood, death, devotion, music,
Form:
Ottava rima