Best Sobered Poems
There was a naughty boy
And a naughty boy was he,
For nothing he would do
But create misery
He was such a naughty boy
They threw away the key
He spent years alone
In the Penitentiary
Locked up in a hole
With nowhere left to run
He finally sobered up
From a life of staying spun
He started contemplating
All that he had done
Fell to his knees
Asking of the Son
Please help me find away
Help me learn to teach
If but a single soul
I can somehow reach
Please give me the strength
Help me find the will
To write out my life
Expressing how I feel
Now that naughty boy
Has truly been set free
Being all he can
For his family
Categories:
sobered, lifeme, me, boy,
Form:
Rhyme
The sweet bells hung upon the soft woven air
The streams in recite and the cold plucked tear
From your pure brown eyes, softly as you wept
As the tides draw nigh and then you crept
Into pleasurable my arms, my shy sweet rose
Sobered on my swooning breast and as close
As the purpl'd flowers among slender leaves
Buried upon earths golden rest and then these
Amorous eyelids aglow with night and beams
Would in trembling passion praise your being
As if surrender'd to a magnificent glow
That the celestial stars has lipped below
As tho' embers of God's sacred light proceeding
Had embalm'd your form in sweet holiness
As tho' the love light of Venus warmly kissed
Your divine royalty, your apple plumm'd lips
As a sacred adornment, jewel'd to this world
To silhouette my heart with love's nectar'd beam
That dissolves reality into an enchanted dream
As desires erupt, with love's most flight'd wings
To purge swift this heart that tightly clings
To the sorrowing days of love's defeat
In tears and in anguish obsolete
But with sacred charms, splendored as a rose
Like Zephyr winds of harmony, my lover blows
Love, peace, joy and passion's flame
Yet love became a fire, when you recite my name.
Categories:
sobered, imagery, romantic,
Form:
Rhyme
" Tortured metaphors
spilling from tequila lips,
t i p t o e on my pulse ~
breaking in an arced smile
of the featherless eclipse,
where I waltz as a secluded steel-shine,
sobered s o f t l y
by the taste of satanic stars..."
I'm the loss of a leaf
from gold-dew aspens,
rippling upon
turquoise typewriters,
where drunk fingertips dance.
Turning to ashes,
my heart m e l t s
as a metallic grenade,
and no philosopher's stone
ever reverberating
in its silver-winged silence.
Seeking shelter from smoldering seas,
I curl up in the womb of a guardian willow ~
she's a weeping angel of n e v e r l a n d,
with an ornamented garland
of guns and roses,
enveloping me in the corpse of sunset.
Plunging from diamond cobwebs
into isles of champagne,
like a dynamite dove bloodthirsty for sun,
I l u r k along reefs
studded with rhinestones, unfurling –
lotus manuscripts
as poetic pearls s l i p and t w i r l,
snorkeling in an obsidian oasis.
I miss being
a purple-whisper prophecy,
threaded in fractured letters,
for now, my ink b l e e d s
in the marrow of moon,
where an alchemy is lost and found...
In the chronicles of carnelian clemency
and supernova sorcery,
I've seen arctic assonances
hibernating
in the throats of those,
holding lethal jewels
as a nightingale's neon noose.
So, if my soul is an opal widow
of your thistle-light affection,
a verse romanticised
will be my crystal coffin,
and in the caricatures
of kohl and karma,
our silent soliloquy
shall delicately be shifted.
Surfing in the splitting s i n s
of a salty saviour,
this whiskey damsel
shall evermore remain
a scentless phrase,
scrapped by pencilled brush-strokes,
i n v i s i b l e
in our paper-cut destiny...
Categories:
sobered, dark, deep, emotions, gothic,
Form:
Free verse
I'm silk-fire, curled in emblazoned quartz horizons,
Of aurous equator, rising in smoke as a secular bird,
From own fossil-ashes, flying to distant honey-shores, scarlet spun,
Stretching across merlot crusts of earth, like a coal-storm, sobered
Yet, my heart is not a silent sandstone, flaming with rage,
It whispers to my Mon Cherie, my arctic air,
In dialects of redolent romance, midst ethers of space,
And he, who fuels my glory by igniting spirit, emerges in graphite flares
Our skies are not sketched with rose-gold glitters,
Rushing in a black-horse's symphony,
crashing porcelain herbs,
We paint universe in ruins of lead and metallic cinders,
Me and arctic air, breathe as one in thunderous heartbeats of reverb;
Orbiting in jade bonfires of ornamented redwood,
While cradling wrath in crimson vineyards,
Has any nurtured offspring of starburst hope withstood,
If our eclipsed union is a toxic twinkle upon sacred lotus' haven-yarns?
Categories:
sobered, art, deep, fantasy, fire,
Form:
Personification
At the last supper He declared,
"One of you is my betrayer".
They questioned Him and each denied
Then all joined in song and prayer.
Mount Olive was the next stop
They could see He was distressed,
But they fell asleep while He prayed,
Even those who loved Him best.
When the mobs came with their clubs and swords,
Disciples turned from men to mice.
Even stalwart Peter faltered
And in fact denied him thrice.
Then Judas boldly kissed Him.
It was the cruel betrayer's sign
And they took him off to Pilate.
All was part of God's design.
Jesus had to die to save us.
Calmly He accepted fate.
"Crucify Him. Crucify Him."
Love for their Christ had turned to hate.
They nailed Him to the cross and mocked Him
As He hung between two thieves.
Jesus said to His companions,
"I can save he who believes."
Darkness fell across the whole land
And at three o'clock He died.
Then the women who had followed
And His mother loudly cried.
Joseph from Arimathea took His body
Which Pilate graciously allowed.
Joseph wrapping Him in linen
Carried Him past sobered crowd.
The two Marys who had followed
And another named Salome
Watched as He was quickly buried
Then each went sadly to her home.
On the evening of the Sabbath
They brought spices to embalm Him,
These two Marys and Salome
Who had worshiped and adored Him.
Early on that Sunday morning,
The women again came to the tomb.
Unsure if they could roll the stone
To unseal His burial room.
But they found the room wide open
With an angel sitting there.
"Your Lord's not here, He has arisen."
They could only stand and stare.
Mary Magdalene, cured from demons,
Was first to see Him now alive.
She told disciples, but they answered
"That's a bad tale to contrive"
The grieving disciples locked themselves
Into safety in a room.
They felt as isolated
As was Jesus in His tomb.
To their amazement, Jesus entered
Showed His dreadful wounds and scars.
He told them He would rise to Heaven.
(Is Heaven found among the stars?)
He bade them to tell His story
And to spread it through all lands.
The faithful disciples did so
And the world now understands
That we sinners killed our Savior,
But we know we'll be forgiven.
If we believe in Him and trust Him,
He will gather us to Heaven.
Written: March 31, 2015
Categories:
sobered, angel, angst, jesus,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
I lost another friend, who was riding the alcohol train.
Little did I know, that he was in so much mental pain.
He kept it hidden well, I didn't even notice it at all.
His family kept him close, as they began to see him fall.
He was always sneaking a drink, wasting away all his time.
As long as he had some alcohol, everything would seem just fine.
Until he'd get to drunk, then his temper would begin to rage.
He was like a crazy animal, that was just released from its cage.
He spent a couple years, of his hidden life behind bars.
From doing stupid things, in a drunken haze he stole a car.
Maybe you would think, that might have sobered him up.
But once you ride that train, it's really hard to get enough.
It can make you kind of sad, even bring tears to your eyes.
When a friend you thought you knew, drinks himself to death and slowly dies.
When you think life is peachy, and everything is going as planned.
That alcohol train comes calling, and everything gets out of hand.
Dan Kearley: 10-28-13
Categories:
sobered, abuse, death, death of
Form:
Rhyme
He comes again this year
With him my buried relatives
I welcome them with warm feelings
All day everyday for a month or more
Uncertain confusing it will be pretty bemusing
I see it everyday now
Video Game Consoles
Dress ups for parties
Christmas amusement parks
first love
Easily calling today
Nostalgia gnawing
Im choked up in tears
Non stop cold rain
On top of the Christmas weather
My Papa's love
Enveloping me
Santa making it cheery
Lola and lolo visiting
Daddy and Mommy chiming in
Youd think it would be a boy
I thought it could have been him
Cruelly mistaken
Can never shake this feeling
Dead family never lost but painful so it seems
Noche Buena on the 24th
Media Noche on New Year
Parol lit all month
Simbang gabi
All hope and peace
Without these we are lost
We must need these
It comes every year
Dousing it wont work
We must need it because we live through it
But then wait, for sweetness
I hold dear to the living
Only solution to shake gloom away
More resplendent than sleeping it off with kerosene
I know that now, sobered, I see it much better
Categories:
sobered, christmas, first love, god,
Form:
Free verse
Last night, the doors of dark entrapped me
Capricious sun, perhaps he's napping
Deliberately he comes and goes,
with wily ways, I know so well
Sometimes he stays an hour more,
but then, we know his temper's short,
to leave me here, alone to brood
and sobered to his moods
I batter hard against the night,
until my knuckles bleed
But, cannot summon him to rush
He takes his time, as if a game,
then blushes cheeks, again
This is the wait, caught in between…
the antics of his display
Last evening he made his great departure,
With amber clouds to frame his face
Without a pause, expects applause
to come with early sun
We blink an eye…and watch him leave
with bright red shoes, and a hat of gold
He'll wave goodbye, and sink right in
the curved rim of the world
And when the final curtain draws,
there's a sigh behind the hills
And all is still....
Companioned by the crescent moon,
who, I will welcome in
_______________________________________________
Submitted for "Saving Daylight" contest: sponsored by John Lawless
2/15/15
Categories:
sobered, day, sun,
Form:
Personification
There you are again out making your loud noise
Who do you think you are? You think you’re a big star?
Driving your beat out pimp car and scouting for young boys
You cannot shine, you have no heart you have no soul
Lost in in your mind, weaving your lies inside a black hole
I am happy you are gone I don’t need you, don’t need hate
Maybe if you sobered up but I believe it is far too late
You’re trapped in your delusional lies where you lie in wait
Out digging for worms and maggots of men for toys
You are the ***** when was the last time your child ate
Blaming everyone else for all your failures; pathetic mistakes
Hiding away with a look of greed on your face like a scar
Made out of the lives you ruin driving your beat out pimp car
Making some more hot money the same way again and again
Going to bars to play and licking for pay in the rooms for men
So happy you are gone I don’t need you, I don’t need hate
Keep on driving away go out again making your loud noise
I can’t hear you anymore from the screams of young boys
In the darkness where you are stoned drunk scratching your itch
Everyone who knows you, knows that you really are the *****
Categories:
sobered, abuse, anti bullying, bullying,
Form:
Lyric
THINKING OF YOU
I saw you before walking slow in the aisle
clothed in peach and wearing a godlike smile
Your grace like the empress of Greece and Nile
Spelled by heaven to color this world drown in vile
Thousand facets that rose to curl along the coldest mile
is now the Belle that sobered this wordless guile
Love swarms, love warmth roll in the aisle of wile
I, a being thirsty to drink from your lips
because sanity cascades in honest weep,
heart and soul have fallen fast and deep.
Good to cry, so I try yet still, sometime it creeps
All I can do is to blow dreams of you as I sleep
hoping in yonder you would stare though quite steep
then lend me please to savor your Aphrodite kiss
Could my love be as real as your unsober grace?
And if eyes and hearts desire such tempting face
More so a name ruling the entire human race...
God helps this dreamer, to the heaven I kneel and gaze
I, a man who yearns nothing but heaven's ways
Pardon me if these words draws like a maze
yet, let me deliver for my heart is chaste
Evening skirt and so I dream caressing your skin
Mercy oh mercy, I do not want to fall into sin
yet, I long to embrace you tight in more than dreams
Set free those lips of butter and cream
then allow me to show some places unseen
into a garden of bliss tinge not of mind green...
Let the brown horse through, the waters and swim
Now, I ran out of words for the wind dashing sways
behind may I say you could leave a man in thousand fray
A chance I dare ask for us so not to be dismayed
more time with you my ever longing say.
God makes the way when it seems there's no way
and if Cupid's arrow again miss the right pair
may tomorrow bring me more courage than today...
_________________________________________________
O.E. Guillermo
1:53 pm; February 20, 2015
Sponsor: Gautami Phookan
Contest Name: I THINK OF YOU
Placed 3rd
Categories:
sobered, life, lonely, love, relationship,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Inspired by SAW, JR
Last night, I slept again with anger.
This morn, my hurt held your pillow.
Gone, have you trip-sobered a thought for me,
or our heart’s cracked carousel,
poorly operated?
I never prepared to wed drink addiction
or create a home where deceit married fear.
Layers, upon sad stares grow walls of distance
as I daily wonder just which end is near.
I felt I saw us.
Infatuation blind eyes
Drowned in your brown eyes.
No alcohol antenna.
Attraction saw less than felt.
Categories:
sobered, addiction, love hurts,
Form:
Verse
hello little school girl
how do you do
travis says he loves you
think I could love you too
you look very healthy
all sobered up
maybe you need an older man
in your troubled life
you and your firm legs
and everything above
but I wonder and I wonder
can perversion go on like this
I wish and I pray
that you were closer to twenty-six
but for now
this will have to do
maybe I can get my chance
with Pocahontas, me and you
Categories:
sobered, dedication, friend, funny love,
Form:
Prose
I saw you the other day we didnt speak
Thinking to myself how did we become this way
And remembered the times we had
Our first kiss I remember
I was drunk but I sobered up
Realizing I was feeling outta place
I looked at you
Though it took me a minute to see
Your the only one I want
I only wanna make it good
For both me and you
So please forgive
If I pull away from you
It's a defense mechanism
I know not of what I do
Please forgive me if I want you like I do
Categories:
sobered, black african american, dark,
Form:
Narrative
On the precipice it stands,
loose-limbed with a sinewy grace,
body taut with an implied swagger,
face, grinning, a sun-dappled gold.
Unclouded by the cataract of cynicism,
its eyes survey a horizon heat-hazed with
a thousand promises.
As yet, love has left it with no sutured heart,
nor loss summoned a creeping despair.
By no friend has it yet been betrayed,
from no purpose has it resigned and strayed.
Lies, it has heard, but, believed, cannot hurt.
Ignorant of what it doesn’t know,
it has an ego undented by falls,
not yet weaned from the milk of optimism.
It has yet to learn the vices of body and mind
that take a lifetime to unlearn,
or the discontent sired by desire,
and what it could gain when there’s nothing else it wants,
that wisdom can be glimpsed only by a sobered fool,
yet Sobriety keeps a lonely vigil over a humanity
drunk on hate-filled wine,
and Truth is a far-flung place,
maze-like in black, white and every shade of gray,
that an ideal is oft a shabby lover next to the
painted temptresses sent by Vainglory and Greed,
that too often, in a world of crass appetites,
an angel has to stoop low before it can fly high,
and, thus flying, loses its angelic smile.
It does not yet suspect Fortune’s mischief,
taking us unawares with its games,
demanding that we shuffle in time to the music of whims,
that the love of life is often repaid,
yet sometimes unrequited.
All this Youth has yet to learn.
Pristine, with not a wrinkle on its soul,
it stands on the precipice,
untroubled by hints of the limits of infinity,
emboldened by intimations of immortality.
With wings unfurled,
beaming in the sunlight
for one last time,
it soars wide-eyed towards
a life yet unspent.
Categories:
sobered, angel, corruption, growing up,
Form:
Epic
At the "Head Inn' Bar,
I sat with Death.
Drinking the fog,
With my poor-man's "Crown"
Earlyer, In mood,
I called him over, telling
"It can wait, grab a drink".
Quite in my superior,
For just saving thousands.
You see, Him and I have met.
First a teenage drive,
Acid with ambulance,
Flip-rolling, tripping a bad action.
But I saw him.
Then at mid-life, Buhhda-r-us.
Told to sit with him,
He didn't say much.
Death and I ordered again.
I gave him grief,
for ordering a Cran-metropoliton,
He shrugged me off, sipping,
Smiled his cared-for white mug.
Genuine tho, no hidden intent.
I could buzzed gather.
We Chatted the gambit,
Topics unbound,
He listened as if I had something to say.
It felt like a talk, with a laid back relative.
Glad to see, but good for the go.
Time whispered my leave.
Plus my spirts were many.
I slurred a passing joke-jab.
"were is your cycle, black robe,
Bone pointing finger "
He pierced me with a gaze,
like my dead father would,
Gentaly patting my back,
And by his smiling touch,
I sware, I sobered up.
Categories:
sobered, fantasyme,
Form:
Free verse