Their “e” assignments instead of too...
Thor hurry nips?
You?
Holiday time
a happy occasion
drink and be merry
But after eight or nine drinks ...
(I can hold my liquor with the best of them)
~ Here’s the epilogue
Honey, pour me another of those
‘kiddie eggnogs’
DID NOT HAVE A DIME
LIQUOR STORE BREAKDOWN IN A CRIME
BUT WILL DO NO TIME
Take a shot from me
maybe rum maybe whiskey
one sip two bites and a large swag
hungry dinner night
a quick
sip
and spinning
ryming words that never were
laughing at sins
all for a date
the calender strikes again
would You like to dine
Time passes slowly when the mind is clear
But when the mind gets muddled, like mint in a jar,
There never seems enough liquor by far
And you tell yourself just one more beer
To fill an lonely Saturday night
For try as One might
The thoughts and trauma nightmares
Come creeping with regret
Bringing you down a hole you wanted to forget
To the darkest days or false glimmers of hope
That you've healed inside and are able to cope
With life's ups and downs as the years float by
When your throat is so sore and your eyes want to cry but are barren and dry
Because you're twisted with anxiety
And hate to be a liar
Why can't you just be normal
Is it genes or inner turmoil
That wants to fill this never-ending glass
To drink away the past
So you empty your bottle into the drain
And decide again to work through the pain
Instead of drinking it away for another day
A small vial,
I’ve nicked it,
A bottle of tequila,
Aren’t I a delinquent,
My heart is racing
Against my mind,
What a craze
To be foolish and hungry,
Must be clever,
even more cunning,
I’ll Regret this forever?
Never know ‘till I try…
Can’t forget the promise
I’m leashed to,
Said I wouldn’t again...
Now where to?
Maybe i’ll just tell him,
He’s doing the same kinda,
Even last night,
He told me if I felt up to it…
Jimmy crack corn I’ve been told.
Why would Jimmy crack his corn?
It gives kick to liquor bold,
makes you wonder why you’re born.
Yet, that mean ol’ blue-tail fly
makes you want to stay inside.
Its bite’s so bad, makes you cry
like a love that’s been denied.
Jimmy likes liquor it’s true
braving nasty bites he gets,
goes and keeps that still a’brew,
protects his liquid assets.
Jimmy’s fate sealed one sad day
as that ol’ blue takes a chew.
Hurts so bad, he senseless lay.
Cracked corn fell off his menu.
So if liquor is your thing
don’t crack your corn to make it.
Stay where ol’ blue, he can’t sting.
Admit that you can’t take it.
NB: Loosely based on the 1846 minstrel song, Blue-tail Fly (Jimmy Crack Corn). There are many speculated interpretations of the song. ;)
Vodka or Scotch, what can I down in the lounge with the rain singing outside?
The cool feeling isn't in just the drink. The cool air and the cold ambience, is adding a good touch.
There is something else missing that has to make this all complete.
Perhaps you can give me an answer to what I think it could be.
Now I will, enjoy my drink, and enjoy the cool white noise.
It was kind of late,
the town had gone to sleep
while some had woke up real early.
Nothing bustled, nothing moved quickly,
the moon had faded into a dark graveyard.
Micky's was open,
blue and yellow neon
fizzed static in the dewy dark.
She was not young
but she looked good in cowboy boots.
He had not shaved
but he looked almost sober
in his stained denim shirt.
They both held a bottle of JD
at the cash-out counter.
However, cupid was out of luck
for they wanted a drink
more than each other.
Still and all,
they would meet again
under a new sleepwalking star,
both holding handcuffed hands,
drunk at the back
of a cops patrol car.
Berenices and Arcturus
We're inspired.Hydra spoke
new words that tickled there
fancy.
Creation recreates , creation
The sources of which is
Sourced.
We are the materials with origins
Sourced by our own meeting,
gathered truths seeding like
sourced stones.
The things we know and those
things we don't know, hyperthermolly
speaking. They asked does Booted
stand in the Hydras of Ursa's pouring
To have us to believe the big dipper
and the little dipper faced one
another to create the precious stones
of envy. Jewels fashioned from the
Minds of artisans?
Feverish red hot
Cool as ice liquor shots
Turn on air my gosh!
The liquor of poetry is sweet...
Donates taste to life,
moves the ideas,
sweetens the mind...
Kiss us ardently,
offer us love,
exults our existence...
Savour it,
with constancy...!
It benefits the soul... !
For total optimism,
Fill the glass up to the brim,
With bourbon, vodka and gin,
This is a glass of life,
Liquor causes too much strife,
Need to look through spiritual eyes,
Alcohol I do despise!
I will take a goblet of that and two shot glasses of that, sure why not?
My eyes will cross twice and fire will come out of my eyes, but it is okay.
I am ready to take on whatever torture you have for me; let me have it.
I am not afraid of anything today; feeling frisky, foxy, and feminine.
The cowboy backed away from the table, and ran screaming from the bar.
Afraid of old ladies? Scared he would be whooped? We asked each other
Laughing maniacally, not really caring, for we had been drinking since three.
He actually thought he had seen his grandmother in that little filly’s eyes.
Foggy never ends over the smallest room
Shape of microphone lay in the brown table
Waitress busted on and took imperial bottle
Commonly appeared in a metrosexual nimble
Unwrap whiskey, notice slicing jumbles
Used up with joys who teased me in great sable
Until my wistful eyes seemed bubbled
Under frustration I glup whine with gloom
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