Best Stupor Poems
Like a rafter that broke under the weight it bore
Like a pupa, wound hard in a tight bind,
Like the torn pages of a book thrown into waste,
I felt trapped and broken and my life seemed a hard grind.
But when I discovered truths as life passed by,
Learning lessons from the past, knowledge did bloom,
Now wisdom imparts a discerning eye,
Unveiling paths to break free from gloom.
The scars of yesterday still may remain,
But they need not cause us constant pain,
For in the present, we have the power,
To rise and create a life that is full of gain.
I need to wake up from a state shadowed with doubts,
And try to claw my way up the walls that hem me in.
This desire I have like a compressed coil that can bounce
Instantly leading me to a release and a triumphant win
I pledge that I will use my remaining years,
For the rejuvenation of my mind and soul,
Instead of being tethered to my affliction,
I will wake up from my stupor and pursue my goal.
Thus, through uncertainty’s haze, I found clarity.
Now I embrace the challenges, imbued with grace.
In the depths of my mind, there is a beacon of serenity.
And I grow more tranquil with every challenge I face.
Whiskey Lips So Sublime
Whiskey Lips step now over the line of true fire-water,
As a warm-burning brings forward one glowing sign.
The golden mead of sweet mountain dew appears now,
As each golden drop sighs it moment of escape and as
The alcohol signals and sparks the wildest of spirits in
One’s own true self!
This moment of sublime ecstasy excites and sparks your
Deepest inner-spirit and you begin to slur and sing loudly,
As your mind begins to reel from the drunken delight of
Your very own intoxicating breaths—noble, yet stupid,
As you become drunken forever under each psychic sip
You taketh from the deepest pool in the very depths of
Your eternal soul!
Your very eyes now glaze over a breathless message
You have found in the cheapest of whiskey bottles.
Saying a divine prayer to Almighty God Himself,
You open the bottle cork now and take notice that a
Little genie pops out of nowhere and begins to take all
Three of your mythic wishes granted together into one!
With that, this little genie shall begin dancing and singing
An ancient Irish whiskey song in your presence into the
Wee hours of the morning until you both pass out and fall
Into a drunken stupor with your whiskey lips so sublime!
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid, A Collaborated Poem
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – July 23, 2018
(Free Verse)
Line of enquiry.
It’s not desire per say but the clinging ~
that stifles soul and stops heart from singing
enlivening silence sets our soul free ~
vibrant in the now, joyful and carefree”
Phantoms of constant fog create a zombie state of existence,
feeling worthless, your barriers offer demons no resistance.
Thoughts drift into a hazy labyrinth of toxic wilderness,
you're wide awake, but the mind's sleeping in fields of bitterness.
Dark shadows of silhouettes in shrouds start to frighten,
so you search for stimulation, for your eyes to enlighten.
To hush these' car crash' carnage echoes of violence,
soul seeks refuge away from ego to master silence.
To wander under blue sunny skies with caffeine clarity.
To cleanse in waterfalls that lead to principles of purity.
When you no longer dance with the Devil's temptations,
serenades of resurrection release suppressed frustrations.
Spirit soars, humming the repetition of a sweet refrain,
as you break away from the monotony of past pain.
In the muteness of stillness the heart learns to let go,
flourishing like the first daffodil after months of snow.
The Echo Of Stars
Galaxies away the echo of stars make her bloom
this rose made of warm inside a heated hand *
Fine tuning her soul to the chime of a thousand crystal pieces
she blasts out and planets resound within her Chalice heart;
Resonating inside her, the peeling bells of Notre- Dame
contain her whole Universe...
Tucked safely inside an IVEAN cloak she lives free
no longer part of this global world.
A star of multiple constellations, she belongs only
to One identifiable light, HIS own.
Evolving endlessly in time she reverberates and rings
entering God's vestibule of heaven without a single sound
Wearing the immortal crown of existence she delves
in, a crowning moment of glory
The mirror shatters in a million tiny pieces and all of truth
arrives, making her whole once again.
“it’s not desire per say but the clinging ~
that stifles soul and stops heart from singing
enlivening silence sets our soul free ~
vibrant in the now, joyful and carefree”
Awaking from Stupor 1-16-24
It's not desire per say but the clinging
That stifles soul and stops heart from singing
Enlivening silence sets our souls free
Vibrant in the now, joyful and carefree.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Awaking from Stupor
Winter haze beats upon the door,
Drunken dreams cling to bitter cherries of midnight,
Before night sashays into white flurries of dawn
When dull eyes wrestle out of binding yesterdays,
And pink-purple pussywillow hallucinations,
Provoked
Awakened to dream
Throwing off phantoms of eiderdown illusions,
Dawning redeemed from the clutch of midnight shrouds,
Nascent emerges sipping sweet soul sunrises
Coaxed from aromas of grace,
From holographic hollow mazes,
While pale sleepwalking staggers into real
Returning with a rosy heartbeat flush
To leave in shadows lethargy of ragged pastels
Numb shades to retreat like useless ghosts
And cower in new auroras of primed breathless light,
Neon insights flash electric incentive,
Sparks ignite fertile tinder stored in silence,
Sentient eyes step into the womb reserved
For every new second purified
In percolation of harmonic animas –
Conscious and unconscious
Awake emergent -
Bliss consummated!
clouded by
careless bravado
i say
too much
this good night
clouds have gone
and I am
in the spotlight
of moon shine
loose lips
break the silence
but no one hears
the confession
of a fool
intoxicated
under
the influence
of you
"I want my mom back!" She screamed.
It tore my heart out, gnawed on it, tauntingly.
Began to tear it apart at the seams.
Stitch by Stitch.
But I felt my heart burst within,
it's chewing gnaw, when I heard the lie,
"I'll stop drinking, you win."
I welcome
the grogginess.
That dulling of my senses.
Until the walls turn to hazy grey.
My hand coming in and out of focus.
Another two fingers of whiskey
swirling in my glass.
“Bottoms up”
making short work of a Fifth.
“99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer!”
No one around to stop the madness.
Booze and beer bottles litter this dingy motel room.
Mr. Peanut, staring at me
from the side of a Planters peanut can.
It’s worth the extra buck fifty for a classy snack.
A bag of pretzels on the dresser as back up.
How many trips to the liquor mart on Fourth?
Shuffling, shuffling, no need to drive.
I chose my motel well,
one block south, lean to the left and voila!
Fifteen minutes later back to the room.
No need to fumble with the lock
it’s easier to leave the door open.
The ”Do not disturb” hanger is still on the door knob.
Three days 5 hours, one less room for the maid to clean.
She probably got to go home a half hour early.
No bargain though, it might take 3 days to catch up.
“Three bottles of beer on the wall, if one of those bottles should happen to fall” Oh crap, I piss myself again.
Too numb, to shuffle to the can. The smell of piss and vomit doesn’t even register. I fall forward like a tree that has been chopped down. There is a cracking sound as my nose breaks but no pain. I’m now in a dreamless land.
Thirteen hours later the Motel Manager is shaking me hard.
“Hey man, wake up. If you don’t get out of here I’m calling the police.” Meanwhile I hear the clink of glass bottles as the maid fills a garbage bag with my empties.
The smell of vomit, piss and blood permeates my broken nose. Thoughts flood my mind, I want that numbness again. I don’t care if it doesn’t solve my problems.
It makes them bearable.
Life not quite simply black and white, my friend.
We wear many hats, chosen at random,
sometimes a saint, at other times a fiend,
as sways fickle attention pendulum,
with unconditional love shown seldom.
Plodding through life, like a dead man walking,
seeing not ego, silently stalking,
we suffer because we choose to suffer,
blocking divine light, within heart glowing,
gift of life ruined in frivolous caper.
03-April-2021
severely fragmented flashes
lead to blank frustration
never computed to what
my body does,
what other bodies do.
it's not gluttony, it's emptiness-
i always have something in my hand.
the mirror in my mind grasps
at different concepts of myself
like a pawn shop
how much can i get for
this
other options
newer models.
i am happy i just
analyze
my mind numbers emotions
turns them into freeform jazz
writes down the melody and rests
that occupies me for hours
from a distance.
Devoted consolement,
The need for Atonement
As gravity claims the best of me-
Drawing me me closer to the hum of the Sea
Then arisen to clouds, far past the sky
Swimming the space of the Milky Way
In star's blue arms, forever lie
While I dreamt those dreams to-day
Vocabulist nonalcoholic punchdrunk stupor January 1st, 2020
Unlike the vast population swath,
with painful hangover
average celebrant merely
doth confusedly blink,
who devoutly pledge
new year resolution
to give up drink
immediately fall off wagon
as he/she eagerly downs
shot after fermented shot
while forearms link
with family, friends,
strangers, et cetera
and immediately rethink
alcoholics anonymous pledge
gamely nod and playful wink.
Yours truly (me) never found
wasted, soused, besotted,
et cetera alone
and/or with round
of best buddies real,
and/or imaginary
nor got stone drunk crowned,
(cuz never did I make
friends - no lie),
plus never felt compunction
to quaff hard inebriant
(think booze hound)
life as extremely gawky introvert
(think long haired
pencil necked geek)
preferred company of books
with cute button nose bound
between pages, this theme
I could expound
till cows come home to roost
after bovines well rested
from their sound
sleep unready and unwilling
to confront battleground
(think slaughterhouse five),
thus beef rendered me, we clowned
and hoofed up memories
promising each other pound
for pound, we would stand our ground
never freeload, mooch, sponge...
nor EVER succumb to the bottle
no matter how hardbound,
especially when attaining rough-age
older not necessarily wiser
if necessary resorting and astound
ding farmer in the dell
to Diet of Worms smellbound
while reenacting Holy
Roman Empire called
back in the hay day -1521
courtesy Emperor Charles V
offering sobering admission
lips ne'er taste amber and/or clear
liquids of the gods, no matter
believe me you reader hopefully
aforesaid confession doth not dumbfound.
Somewhere within me there were seeds I'd planted,
lying dormant within fallow fields of another time ~
A Sonnet once started until it lost rhythm and rhyme.
For years I'd been chained to shadows that never faded
and I'd traded nights without sleep for blurry visions ~
as if wool needed pulling from my nettled eyes.
I was not naive. To find the fruits of wisdom,
there were mountains of issues I'd need to climb.
Through what seemed ages of clinging to what I'd known,
I realized my heart had stopped singing and the silence
became a ringing in my ears that deafened me.
There was no mirth in my laughter, no elation or passion.
I sought a way to loosen the ropes that held me captive
in the dark. Not a spark of hope could I ignite to survive
until I'd end the journey I'd taken.
I needed to wake from shadows into the vivid light of life.
No longer did I want to be stifled with despair and strife.
I desperately sought a way to sleep peacefully,
not lost in a vacuous stupor, a maze with no way out.
Instead, I'd wake without dread ~ free spirited, not jaded.
I had an urgent need to no longer be filled with doubt.
Then, it hit me as a jolt, as if cold water splashed my face.
Life was not a race to be run, but a liberating experience,
an exuberance for living that I would wholeheartedly embrace.
I remembered the lulling words I'd once read:
"it's not desire per say but the clinging ~
that stifles soul and stops heart from singing
enlivening silence sets our soul free ~
vibrant in the now, joyful and carefree"
"There are only two days in the year that nothing can be done.
One is called yesterday and the other is called tomorrow, so
today is the right day to love, believe, do, and mostly live."
Quote by _Dalai Lama
Most of my life has been like a dream trance,
repressed and lost in one long grief coma:
but, I have found my now moment and chance,
I no longer want the melodrama;
want to enjoy this life's sweet aroma.
It is a rebirth of the joyful me,
and I am breezy, happy and carefree:
the child in me is quite alive and well,
in calm silence I have found the true me;
within stillness of soul- I wish to dwell.
“it’s not desire per say but the clinging ~
that stifles soul and stops heart from singing
enlivening silence sets our soul free ~
vibrant in the now, joyful and carefree”
Saint Patrick slept in stupor self-imposed
in the back of the pub with the door closed
they sang out for him
to silence the din
but he snuggly snored on indisposed