The party's over
You got in bed with the devil
And pulled the covers up over your head
It's a bed of your own making
Now you have to lie in it
And lie you have and lie you will
Over and over and over again
You'll toss and turn until morning comes
And after that sleepless night
It will finally dawn on you
It's time to wake up and smell the coffee
To go with your breakfast of crow
Which costs more than you will ever know
And we're all paying the price
DID NOT HAVE A DIME
LIQUOR STORE BREAKDOWN IN A CRIME
BUT WILL DO NO TIME
O’ fluid friend,—
—O’ liquid lover, please
embrace me, soothe my sootheless, stranded soul—,
—caress my restless thoughts, and set them still.—
O’ sap of spirit,—
—sweet sip of ambrose!
O’ potent potion,—
—O’ magic mixture, daze
me, dazzle me, nuzzle me, numb my frill
fringes |— —| Droll Dame, find me a drooling fool.—
O’ nectar of the night,—
—dose me for a doze…
Keep me cohere,nt and comp,osed—‘sxcu,se me—
I’m stumblin’ on your slippy words,(I meant
mine,—ours?)and now you sweep me to the flo,or.
…
O’ fluke of fortune!, wicked whiskey’s woe!,
why wrong you me thus?, morn’s scalding sun askant
breaks blaring through my window,— head — aches — …sore.
—Blackout.
\ rewind \\
9pm,
my messy curls sizzled
as chemicals
flow down the drain—
raven,
to matte purple.
Each strand a minute
I forced
straight
with smoldering iron.
>> glitch
1am,
Hair unraveled
against the shuddering wall
The taste of heated whiskey
falt
er ing
from our lips
Rusty red smudged
on neon-lit chins—
He muttered, “Your hair looks better at night.”
I replied—
—Blackout,
(sigh)
\ rewind ?
i'm in a muppet mood today ~
suffering from a persisting hangover
i woke up silly stuffed and wabbly
goofy looney and scatterbrained
with bulging eyes and a bad hairday
even my voice sounded bizarre
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Remember, long ago, enrapt of Venus,
in college, brought to meet by chance,
how, falling into that first, most fateful glance
a straightaway spark flirted between us?
And, too, can you recall the eager shyness?
On the day that turned up next, a thrilling trance
hurled us into an uninhibited expanse
which then crackled with electric newness.
But nowadays, that’s just as far away
into the forlorn yesteryear as you
are distant now—and, almost strangers, we’ve
matured apart, growing further every day.
A curse upon wicked fate! who withdrew
her blessing and unraveled our fragile weave!
Wow, another Super Bowl Sunday is upon us here,
While it's treated like a national holiday.
Yet consumption can be measured by all the beer,
As the gallons are poured while they play.
No matter the victor, there's a residue of pain,
As the long off-season is cause for withdrawl.
Even though touchdowns may set records to gain,
They're soon forgotten as the sports world is a crawl.
Now fans do their best to show interest elsewhere,
However basketball and golf just don't fill the void.
This is where the withdrawl is thick in the air,
Only to desperately begin searching their I-phone or android.
We mustn't forget another creation in the wake,
When millions of football widows then flood the streets.
Looking diligently for another interest they can take,
That won't remind them of shoulder pads or cleats.
So as the build-up to the game slowly comes to pass,
We should mention the epic commercials that are placed.
As they attempt to ease the pain from fumbles on the grass,
To all those that lost their bets...and have that bad aftertaste.
Unsettling it was
came from where
I did not know,
the jagged claw upon
my chamber floor
so near the cot
where I nightly lay,
have dreamed so snug
feeling quite secure,
sharpest at the edges
capable of tearing flesh
and bone, my innards
deep
how could this hideous
thing unbeknownst stealthily
creep --
perhaps always near
I shuddered to think
somewhere attached to
my spirit long ago -- a
thought too repugnant
I did not want to hear it
from my troubled mind
hastened I to clear it
hungrily latched-on to my
soul, I prayed desperately
to be free of it
confronting my
original abomination --
the Sea drinks no booze
why then It has hangover
if drinks pure water
Enter the pack
With a slap to the back
To the heart of a commonplace place
Leave the charade
Of your daylong crusade
Here’s the end of the common man’s race
Belly the bar!
You won’t have to look far
For the whistle-whet bright hospitality
Of the bonding of men
As they gather again
To the tipping of top fermentality
When it’s time to go home
You won’t go home alone
For the spirits will fall in behind you
To put you to bed
With a knock on the head …
As the morning will amply remind you!
I don't know why that
the sea suffers hangover
if it drinks water...!?
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
Betrayal of the heart
cocaine disguised as oxygen,
controlling your breathing
slow to grow like an addiction;
Enamored;
Such passion confined,
exonerated with a touch;
Wordless I cry out,
as reality collapses;
Enraptured;
Tripping on the taste,
in the dark inhibitions fall
for everything enhanced
left strung out with a hangover.
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
There was once a careful old man called Chanday
who drank beer only on a chosen Sunday
many visits to toilet
never let trousers get wet
without water, couldn’t clear stomach on Monday.
March 30, 2021
Contest : All Yours (Mar 31)
Sponsor : Brian Strand
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