Best Intoxicant Poems


Premium Member Dream Weaver Damsel

     "Dream Weaver Damsel"


in a tiny corner beyond mysterious hills
a quaint curio shoppe promised exotic thrills
amid cryptic designs whispered brisk Autumn chills
as the marmalade sunset cautioned while pursuing frills ...
misty clouds had invited
as curiosity excited
I entered dusty door of my own free will.

melodies chanted a pleasant, yet haunting refrain
as a slight pungent odor infused by wolf bane
the proprietess welcomed with a silver head cane
at her side was a midnight blue giant great dane ...
a charming confection
a cozy connection
i wandered in amazement to purchase sculptured frame.

she offered a sweet tea from a boiling cauldron tin
suddenly the silence invaded quiet as a pin
this euphoria feeling tasted tempting as sin
while spraying wild essence which appeared from a bin ...
a mystical trance
fashioned vivid romance
I envisioned a breath of intoxicant gin.

floating through space on invisible wings
seeking to escape from perilous things
trying to seize the illusive brass rings
as I started to weep I heard two lovebirds sing ...
dream sequence  is over
awake! smell fresh clover
was my dream a prediction? premonition? or warning?


*For SandyIvy Davis's Good Enough Contest.
*Written by: Linda-Marie The "Sweetheart" of P.S..

Premium Member Love, the Hard Conqueror

These darts of love fly from our eyes
Adrip with passion's poisons clear and sweet,
Our aim that of another heart's defeat,
Its mute enslavement to our sighs.

Love blasts holes of unexpected size
In our defense; no wall will be respected.
The briarbarbed fence of self-content
Is breached, and trampled, with perspective.

Passion paints its fell directives
To our sniper's scoping of the front,
That field of victims fair,
To take down and devour in the hunt.

The wounds of pride will bear the brunt
Of soft assault upon stern self-control;
Desire stabs the shuddering soul
Until its thirsting edge grows blunt.

Thus we conspire to murder our sleep
While surrendering self-rule
To serve another's purpose
As captives of the deep

Dungeons of our needs, and keep
The key clutched tightly in our hand,
Afraid to lose the sweet ache of love,
Loath to let complacency sweep

Devotion from the stage, and weep
The loss of desperate, mutual need
That grows within, that intoxicant weed
Of victorious love we rush to reap.

Love Goes Like This

we came together in a passionate embrace
as the plasma flowed and blood raced
 
eyes locked like an eagle on its prey
another victim of love swooped and taken away
 
the instinctive beckoning of raw sexual pleasure
the involuntary natural reflex of which there is no measure
 
we lock lips like bulls lock horns
the product of sexual tension re-born
 
as i moved from her lips to her breast
the journey from her cheek to her neck i caressed
 
i can feel the throb of her heart
as her legs spread wider and wider apart
 
as i suckle on her nipple my hand slid under her knit
gently sliding my finger across the curvature of her clit
 
a heated sexual creature untamed
she purrs in my ear like lioness a flamed
 
the pheromone scent of sexual bliss like opium to the brain
the intoxicant of a sedative sexually seducing the sane
 
the longing for the tongue to flicker the flower and taste its sweetness
is the yearning to remove the chastity belt and reveal its weakness
 
as i draw my tongue near the center of her hips
she trembles with delight knowing the full journey of my lips
 
as i invoke her senses and apply my tongue to her slit
her eyes are glazed over no more but awakened to the orgasmic potential of her clit.
 
the joust of my tongue against the bloom of her pistil
she quivers and shakes as i blow raspberry like whistles
 
the momentary moans the holding of her breath
defines the orgasmic ejection, be forced out in jet
the sweet liquid of pleasure successive and wet
 
she closes her legs and turns to the side
still trembling with satisfaction inside
 
she lays on her pillow and closes her eyes
and that is the measure of sexual reprise


Three Graces

Kissed by the rebel mouth of Dionysus

set tight against their fulsome lips;

lapped into shapes by intoxicant tongues,

arms fused in a chain of swaying hips.



Tiptoe this sisterhood of Athena,

this trio in bright synchrony;

blown back on Acropolis stilettos,

risen skirts above the stockinged knee.



Aphrodite waged love at closest quarters,

hair and smiles in abandonment;

cocked ears unto the night owl's dreaming cry,

dancing rings on cracked cement.



And in their gentle, giddy transit

do these Three graces reincarnate;

resurrected in neon and nicotine apparel,

a vodka cocktail triumvirate.



With clicks of glitzy, glittery nails,

Beauty, Love and Pleasure burn the midnight oil;

the winds of Olympus ply their skin,

bled as one with each other on urban soil.



A graffiti collision of sensual ephemera

sprayed on a backdrop of brick and grime,

Three graces raised up by the ancient gods

from the mists and depths of mythic time.



Oh to see the marriage of their personas

bared in a nocturne, driven weeping,

only one lone gaze imbibes the miracle

for the world and his wife lie blind and sleeping...
© Tony Bush  Create an image from this poem.

Goblet of Desire

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The Goblet of Desire


Saki! Come pour the wine in cups of yearning
My heart is bleeding, pour the goblet's blood,
The Tavern has its fame from your beguiling eyes
Your lovely eyes' intoxicant pour in the cup!

The flower garden is no match to steal my heart
Your face's flower petals are usurpers fine,
Your ruby lip so life-giving is spring of youth
The red ruby of life pour down upon my lips!

The flower petal rubs its breast upon the thorn
The eye-lashes of morning dew to prick the flowers veins,
The fingers of musicians do caress the spirit's harp
The heart of bottle open and fill up the veins with fire!

Lighted is the Tavern with the radiance of your face
You steal the heart with so much charm dear love,
A glance from you can stir the wine to dance,
Come pour till the morning the mixture that cures the heart!

The Tavern is a shelter for the heart which is afflicted
The burning heart and tearful eyes are precious,
The cries we have are those from the night of disappointment
To quench my thirst pour down a river running full of wine!

The Tavern is the realm reserved for hostages of sorrow
The cries are only translators of painfully sad nights,
The world of those who feel is such a sweet and lovely world
Whatever love you're carrying, pour everything right here!


                      Qasem Ghazanfar,

                      Translated from the Persian 
                       by the author

From Suede Dragon and the Theoretical Formula

A fragrant dancing tickles in my nose
 Inhaling deep- intoxicant perfume-
 Of some invisible narcotic rose.
 The earth is host to swirling love in bloom!
 
Yet summers final blossom wilts away.
 Each dawning promissory sunset sky-
 Spectacular transition- ends each day,
 And no escaping, not for you and I!
 
Two points of view may vary constancy,
 Surrendering to marginal debate.
 Relinquishing all fervent penalty,
 Embracing change, I yield, my devastate.
 
May love transcendent of mentality
 Deliver always swift reality!


A Disciple's Desire

A Disciple’s Desire

Sight is one way of knowing.
Let me see,
and I shall be a seer.

Hearing is one way of knowing.
Let me hear,
and I shall be deaf no longer.

Taste is one way of knowing.
Let me taste,
and my lips shall be spiced.

Scent is one way of knowing.
Let me breathe,
and my chest shall be full.

Touch is one way of knowing.
Let me grasp,
and my hands shall crumple satin.

Powerful knowers, yes,
but the greatest is the heart—
beyond reason,
and certain, without parts.

Hers is a deep, deep knowing,
when sight excites the eye,
the awakened apple, open and wide.

This deep, deep knowing,
when touch is a chorus,
amidst the crash of symbols.

Yes, a deep, deep knowing
with intoxicant bursting
and taste of care.

One deep, deep knowing!
and the drum-drum of panting
on warm, worshiping ears.


-written April 2017
-contest: "I'm Crushing On You"
-sponser: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver

Premium Member Retired---Almost Expired

there once was a time
when i had value---
a worthy member
of society---
a respected entity;
but that was
when i was a young twig…
today i am seen as a dying
aged tree---a burden
stifling society---
a worthless stock,
leeching  a monthly
survival stipend
intoxicant (SSI):
tomorrow I will try to pawn 
my “forty years of service”
watch.

Alcoholics and Druggies Die Every Day

Alcoholics and Druggies die every day
That's the chant.
Their vice is a monster they endure at first, then regret,
Then fully embrace until life just slips away.
Their lives were full of shoulda, coulda, and woulda's
They would get to someday
Which is now irrelevant.

Alcoholics and Druggies die every day.
Doesn't this piquet you in some way?
Have we become that complaisant?

Their vice is a monster they endure at first, then regret,
Then fully embrace until life just slips away.
They were people look at the survey
Their lives weren't insignificant.

Alcoholics and Druggies Die Every Day
They just couldn't break away
From the horrible intoxicant.

Their vice is a monster they endure at first, then regret
Then fully embrace until life just slips away.
I pray
That people will read this and on their mind I can implant
Alcoholics and Druggies die everyday.
Their vice is a monster they endure at first, then regret, 
Then fully embrace until life just slips away.

The Perhaps Pursuit

Excuse me ,,,,,,,yes,
green-eyes and uninterested.
I saw you again last night,
this time shmoozing with gallery clic trendies.
We have met many places,
the places I haunt.
I've witnessed you amongst the smell of particle-oak shelves,
and drying paper.
Another was a dimly-lit caffeine-injection clinic.
Each time.
You froze my eyes.
A strong feminine alternative pin-up.
The elegance with a "in your face" attitude.
Your hair has always been different
perhaps, I'm sure different in color.
Your facial features are a unique intoxicant,
different from the fake and common.
Perhaps.
Nose, longer, shorter.
Eyebrows, full or thin.
But you intimidate me.
I've stumbled around you
G.Q.-hesitant-improvisation, insecure rantings.
Perhaps.
If these puzzles pieces were not forced
If you only caught me , confident.
Which sometimes happens, perhaps.
I could have wowed you with me-isum.
Comically worded dances
For the payment of your smiles.
I'd rant to your ears
For to see your eyes.
We Perhaps
Would be, who of what each is.
AHH...wishful bliss.
So I will see you,
Perhaps, I'm not sure
Perhaps.

After the Break Up

After you have said good bye 
You feel pain cutting you like a knife 
No intoxicant can totally mask your pain 
So you will have to live with  it 
After you have said good bye

Premium Member Infinite

Faith in a world infinite,
Where no one alive has ever set foot,
Whether real or illusory,
Makes death less scary,
And leaves life not dreary.

It is like a leap into the unknown,
With the spell of eternal life,
Ever alluring and bewitching us-
A balm to lives arduous,
And an intoxicant to the pious.

With the slow closing of our eye.
We believe, we enter a life infinite,
Where neither sadness can reach,
Nor sighs to smother our breath.

Soft and sweet will be our glide,
Through ether like a tiny bird.
Fluttering on wings invisible,
Soaring to heights infinite,
And into times uncountable, which we call Eternity,
Where on and on flows time’s ceaseless tide.

Why scoff it as the fancy of a fevered mind,
While the mystery of it, no mortal could ever unwind?
___________________________
March.3. 2023

Writing Challenge ‘I’ Words Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Constance La France

Premium Member Buddha Meets Santa

Santa sailed upon his sleigh
and came upon Buddha one day,
greeting him with a cry.

Saying, I'm bringing toys
to good girls and boys,
as on this toboggan I fly.

Yep, I'm a plump, jolly fairy,
and will make children merry
with things here in my sack.

Oh, the joy they'll find
when they have what they pined, 
and no longer lack.

Santa, I crave nothing in your sled.
My gift, you see, is wisdom instead,
as I remain mindful.  

I don't seek Christmas merriment
from a drink or intoxicant, 
however delightful.  

And so, two men of worth
bore gifts for children here on earth.
You must believe it!

I only tell you this because
that's the way it really was. 
How then, did they leave it?

God bless you Buddha!
I'll be on my merry way.

Peace be with you Santa,
Have a nice day!

Premium Member Intoxicant, You

satiation ...
you melt, caramel
slip down my throat like honey
i swallow the taste, you
wait my sugar rush
imbibe again

drown
in poison

Modern Moon Miss ...

A Mellow, Intoxicant – Moon-Shine
Out of This World – But Orbit’s in Line
Controls The Lunacy- Longing, Just Fine
Heard Howls At The Moon? … It Was Mine…

Not a Lunatic – But Lipse’ – Scientific … Sometime
Like a Space-Kitten, Who just wants to Climb
And Prowl 9 (?) Milky Way Planets, in One Lifetime… Not Nine
And Purr in Milky Moonlight… On My Spine

My Soul is all Aglow… You’re in My sight
And Even, My DarkSide… is Searching Mister… Right ?
I’m and Emotive, Aspiring, Silhouette-Shone, Light
Full … of Faith, Formulas and Moon Flint-Rocks, Bright

So, I’m Not Crazy… But I, Phase… A- R o u n d –  Sense 
… at Least, to Your Grounded, Male-Ego Logistics
yet, I’m Glad, You Still Try To Reach The Moon…
… but Maybe, I’ll Beam “You” Up Scotty !… Soon

… So, Brace Yourself… I Can Bring The Bravado
Pace Yourself… We, Got A Long Way To Grow
Race Yourself… Flash Your Flag… Fly and Follow
Raise Your Rocketship-Ride…    Ready … Set … Go !

… ‘Cause Modern Moon Miss… Miss Ya’… You Know…

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