Long Alcoholism Poems

Long Alcoholism Poems. Below are the most popular long Alcoholism by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Alcoholism poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Seven Years

When are our best years? So many in this society seem to think it is their youth, or their twenties. In my twenties, I lived alone for seven years-as completely alone as you can without disappearing into the mountains of Tibet. I lived friendless; if I didn't have to go to work to pay the bills, I would have never left my tiny studio. I didn't wash my clothes, my hair, or myself, sometimes for weeks. I had no family nearby-truthfully, I did not want them to see me, ashamed of how empty I was.
     I am thankful I have no taste for alcohol, given the heavy hand of alcoholism that holds my father so firmly, that eroded my parents' marriage and my own relationship with him. Once, craving interaction, I made an effort to get dressed up and went to a local single's bar - and stopped outside the door. I was afraid no one would speak to me, and afraid someone would. I was equally terrified of both outcomes. So I went home, hung my pretty dress up in the closet, and never wore it again.
     I did try to date, through personal ads. It was usually ten minutes over coffee, until they suddenly remembered a "pressing appointment" and had to leave - if they showed up at all. I always blamed myself, of course - was I too talkative? Too quiet? Too short? Too plump? (actually, the irony is I never wore a smaller size than when I was depressed and not eating.) Was it the scars of my turbulent adolescence I still wore on my cheeks? Or my premature gray hair I refused to dye? To be honest, I see now I often rejected them myself - I was caught in the conundrum of wanting companionship yet unwilling to sacrifice my privacy, my personal space to allow someone in. I guess I was more in love with loneliness.
     Then I met someone - a gentle giant with a sweet smile, warm brown eyes, a generous heart, a welcoming soul. He too had been ignored, been dismissed, been devalued. And, maybe, I needed those seven years of solitude to sharpen my sight, to see the buried treasure in this man that others had overlooked. He has given me a home, a family - he makes me feel secure, feel protected, that, no matter what, everything will be alright. He is why I smile, why I laugh, why I like myself again. He is my happy ending.
     Now, in my forties, I am living my best years - and I am lucky enough to know it.
Form: Narrative


Nothing To See Here

significant and alarming rises in deaths
shootings
murders

mow the lawn
go shopping
watch football
crack open cold ones
make babies
jiggle babies on laps

significant hurricanes and tornados
there are deaths

baby showers
graduations
weddings

domestic violence is significantly up
up being a surge
of consumer consumption
of cars and televisions 
anything 
killings in the market place

mow the grass
grill
drink 
drink more

significant rise in alcoholism
the authorities are stump
the president is stumped
the cops are leaving town
adultery is up
statisticians are stumped
sex crimes significantly up
up being a rise in blood temperature
death by misadventures
gang warfare
social unrest
funerals 
upheavals of unrest at funerals
fights with fists

homicides hover over critical mass
significant amount of anger and rage
eruptions
mayhem

take the poodle to the pound
kidnap a Pitbull
mow the cat
kill the dinner
kiss the kids
divorce the mower
drink
jail
drugs
dead head 

dead head the blood red roses
sing a song of freedom

Premium Member My Kryptonite

Shyness, more than usual, had been my core kryptonite!
Innocent me! Like a panda bear, in my boyhood! Bright!
Girlish, the grown-ups crowned me! An inauspicious floret!
Praying: May boldness breathes in me by the Holy Spirit!!

Youthfulness, like a peacock, expressed blissful boyishness!
Cherished, as in a colorful garden, in joyousness!
There entered, as though foul eagles, the puritan grown-ups!
Blowing up every flaw of mine in colorful close-ups!!

Then, the kryptonite of my unwillingness to marry!
As I felt, I need not have heavy burdens to carry!
There crept in, the vultures, questioning my male potency!
Laughed! Abandoned me at the hands of divine destiny!!

A fallacy, like an unknown big bug, entered my brain!
Or a mess, hell-like, hidden by grown-ups, for greater gain!
Link of truth, broken betwixt my, fantasies and person!
Or elements, like messy knots, leading me to treason...!!

All these kryptonite, were not like black kraits, life-consuming!
But something unknown went within me was very glooming!
Though the meaning of life, like permanent flowers, blooming!
Dejections... despairs..., day after day, dignity dooming!!

Heavy drinking, nay, my drunkenness, lo, held its head high!
Like a fallen man’s land-hit-head, looking up to the sky!
Friends, angels of greed, no gain from me, left far from my sight!
Alcoholism, though an excuse, became my kryptonite!



07 October 2021
YOUR KRYPTONITE Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco
Form: Rhyme

ACTORS BIOGRAPHY

ACTORS BIOGRAPHY 

____  ____ is an actor most famous 
for his role as John Smith on the TV series Unnamed. 

He is from the UK and started his 
career having minor roles in small 
touring stage productions for a year. 

From 2023, he was cast as a 
supporting role in a West End 
production of Transient at the 
Evanescence Theatre. 

Migrating from the stage to the 
screen, he had some uncredited 
parts in short-lived television 
shows. 

In 2024, John Smith was a role that 
he auditioned for. Initially, the role
was offered to another actor but 
was turned down due to them 
having to go into rehabilitation. 

He worked on Unnamed until his 
sudden firing from the show in 
2026. Little is known about the 
reason for this. However, it could 
be linked to his current issues with 
tax avoidance and alcoholism. 

After a measly four year career, he 
is no longer working in the industry.
© Leon Cole  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Prose

Premium Member Family Culture

That's the last place I lived while still at home  
till my heart sought to journey my birthplace.

Indulgence Sea storms, formed riffles, and cold foam.
Were dealt crumbs through our life,  we needed space.
Submissive to the man culture and race;  
worked every day to feed his family.
Treated the familia carelessly

Greeting a birthplace with no suffering.  
Relationship with my identity 
building, nurturing, and understanding.
    


1/11/2017

Familia:   Spanish for family  
Indulgence:  alcoholism 
Foam: abuse


Dizain 

 rhyme scheme is: a. b. a. b. b. c. c. d. c. d. with a 10 syllable count
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Dizain


Westbury

Westbury where skyscrapers scratch clouds,
And backstreet murmur under glowing hum,
The metro slumbers,but terror thunderous crowds.

Laaities hone okapis where mumbled thugs come,
Each gangway a rabbit warren of cries,
And moms grab the dark,awaiting some.

In kangaroo courts blood thirsty 28s and 27s rise,
A revolver roars,the night asks but none says a prayer
While guiltlessness is sold in whispered lies.

Yet in this war,the lane hides myths rare,
Of youngsters who dodge the deep state,running fast,
Their footprints rebound,shivering through the air.

Westbury your skyscrapers check out the die cast,
Each brick a testifier,every lantern a guide,
The twilight is long,but hope remains at last.

The matriarchs of sections keep life supplied,
Their pleading a vein hope under mortar veins,
Where cowards hide,the soul of Westbury won't die

Premium Member The Alcoholic In Your Life

The Alcoholic in Your Life

Might be the dirty man in the gutter,
Or your mate, so loaded he can only stutter.
She might be the loudmouth at the bar,
Or the woman who almost died,wrecking her car.

Sadly, could be your father or mother.
Cousin, aunt, sister or beloved brother.
Ages of addicts are no longer fifty.
Some eleven year olds, sneak drink at home, they think it's nifty.

Alcoholism begins in denial, first by the drinker,
Then, the fellow deniers: friends and family, too.
Unable to see where this might have a fatal end.
Our society so worked up over fentanyl and shrooms,
We scoff at them throwing the drug, alcohol, up in our bathrooms.

We've yet to understand all alcohol is a dangerous drug,
I know, not you~you really are not addicted.
Many die of this disease each day, deadly conflicted.
Call yourself blessed, if this disease you do not have.

Please do not laugh at these unfortunate blokes.
See that they get the help they need~
Stop kvetching over second hand smoke.
Alcoholics come in all shapes and sizes.
Attorneys, doctors, Hollywood, too. 
Love needed urgently, not arrogant and unforgiving surmises!

Panagiota Romios
4/3/2019

Lake Shore Drive

“Lake Shore Drive” 
by Positive Mark

I sat the sun on a roof while I re-tied my shoe, and told it to rest up right there.

I quickened my pace, with a mask on my face, just in case all the others might care.

The piers on the inlet hold envious midgets, fake preachers, and lovers of dope.

Societal beatings, anonymous meetings, and new comrades help restore hope.

I shoe shine and grin at the trouble I’m in, as I live my unmanageable life.

The gardens are fed with the faces of dead men who died by the gun or a knife.

The stingray approach, and they glide by in pairs, while the deep thinkers welcome new moons.

The young people sing of the madness life brings, while the old fiddles bellow new tunes.

A preacher just lost his handsome grandson to a substance that long held him for ransom.

I wonder if we’ll ever win.

I picked up the sun from the top of the roof, and started my running again.
Form: Rhyme

The Philosopher at the Tavern

I seek deep truth at half past-twelve,
But find it hiding in the skokiaan again. (1)
IDA sighs again,'' know thy ale''.    (3)
Phuza Face orders a second pail    (2)

By dawn I've solved life's mystery grim
Its mostly froth with little brim.
So drink Majwalis,and think no more.  (4)
The mind's a map,the heart



Explanation of a Pub Crawler's Philosophical terms and names

Skokiaan-an illicit home-brewed alcoholic drink made from yeast,sugar and water.Usually its consumption leads to loss of wallet,teeth,wife and kids.Devotees are especially not fond of water and general cleanliness.A nice smell
IDA- means I Drink All.This is said by someone who never buys you drink/alcohol. 
Phuza Face- is a colloquial term for the physical effects of heavy or long term drinking resulting in which leads to swelling,puffiness,redness of the face,dark circles under the eyes.
Majwalis-He who is devotee of alcohol and alcoholism who drink himself to death and beyond.Usually a cheque collector. Has a phobia of not reporting for duty on Monday and Friday.
Form: Epigram

Netherworld Unearthed Within This Mind

Psyche soaking wet with devout atheism,
this lifetime skeptic now tenuously
linkedin with Unitarianism
attests, said upbringing proffered,
mine credo, gestalt,

leitmotif, sans abstractionism
eludes elucidation, delineation, clarification...
some readers might
dismiss as absurdism
defying established dogma fixed absolutism

millenniums, would be hashtagged heretical,
and such cavalier blithe
apostasy, declared alarmism,
now - twenty first century
extant accursed as alcoholism

within various non
Western statecraft enclaves,
barely tolerating agnosticism
no fool to ejaculate
proclamations antithetical opinionism

where condemnation to death 
(I obediently, humbly, and gladly accept)
inadequate punishment,
cited on par relegated to alienism,
amoralism, antiestablishmentarianism...

never does this anachronism
loosely cabled with pioneerism,
(when virgin forests bedecked America),
a veritable wilderness, necessitated
quintessential self survivalism

knowhow long since forgot,
which dependence on consumerism
finds yours truly afflicted against capitalism
commercialism, conformism, cultism et cetera
more aligned with reliance on individualism

nearly an extinct species,
where anti materialism
betrays, cavils, and discourages ecocentrism,
versus profit motive maximization,
though of late environmental dynamism

aggressive representative thank you
Greta Ernman Thunberg regarding criticism,
nee opprobrious global ecological terrorism
mandating staunch defeatism
as stave bulwark

against criminal determinism
to wreak irrevocable traitorous dogmatism
predicated on tenets of egocentrism
brewed, steeped, and
galvanized in exceptionalism

of *****sapiens and expansionism
exclusive to said primate
that requires serious assessment,
asper bracketing craven
doctrinairism edified fundamentalism
granting humans unfettered expansionism!

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