Long Firewater Poems
Long Firewater Poems. Below are the most popular long Firewater by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Firewater poems by poem length and keyword.
Little darling, thy fada wears a garland of frowns,
The breda must explain their jokes to him across the night,
Worry devours his heart,his wallet emptied of light,
Fallen sistrins and soaring debts weigh him down.
Parasitic friends,the firewater that hauls him down,
Your mada' open relationship haunts him without end
You poor black girl,his paternal duty no hand can mend,
So little darling,mockingbird sings sagacity' gentle crown.
'' Motivate him'',cries nightingale,'' seek angels that heel,
Set calm and clear,boundaries firm and the rule of right,
Recall the days when Rastafari made his soul bright ,
Technicalized guidance cuts through despair and anger's steel.
Sistren and fada ,simmer down a little bit,sooth the strife,
And read The Holy Piby for blessings in holy Jah life''
Glossary of Useful non pompous English terms:
Fada-father
breda-brother
sistrins -sisters
mada--mother
Rastafari--the best religion
technicalized-professional
Holy Piby-Bible of Rastafari
I saw a grandma's eyes doze
In her walk she stumbled
She had a calm quiet stagger
See drunk of the firewater
Oh those spirit had her stumble
She would wave as she walked like a branch , a leaf in the wind
She drank the spirits
Now my grandma was the only one
Then I saw with mine, eye rassel lawn chair
Oh , it was rare to see this woman trying to get out of there
She drank the spirits
50%, calm and quiet 50%. stammering rage, quiet
Yet on the flip side of the coin
She screamed. rated and ranted like a roaring lion
It wasn't water, it wasn't KoolAid? It wasn't Coca-Cola, or Lipton tea
Grandma don't know if you was alcoholic, but you sure was close to being near it.
Ma, grandma drunk them spirit
Lo, them there ---"the spirit of "al co hol"
Those demented the liquid
Grandma drunk them spirits
8/9/26
Written wirds by James Edward Lee Sr
I was six
When safety died.
My father
Home from war
Would drink whiskey
Straight from the bottle.
Veins full of firewater,
Filled and spilled,
Fighting off his pain.
My mother locked the door
To keep that pain outside.
She did not want her children
To experience his fears.
Our house, a fortress,
Bastion of Love against
All Nightmares of the world.
When the rumble of
The Pounding came.
My sister Corky,
One year older,
Was the first to cry.
The Pounding loud
As any storm
Our house
Had ever known.
The Great Oak Door
Began to splinter
As we huddled
With our Mother,
Nearly smothered
Against her breast.
Three hearts as one
In fearful rhythm
Matching the Pounding
In our ears.
Pound for Pound
Until the door
Gave way to
Anger’s Thirst.
Split and ruined,
As my Father,
Running from his War,
Crashed into Hope,
Pleading with
Each Curse
For Respite
And Relief.
The door
Between his world
And ours
Now splintered,
Broke,
And Gone.
Giving up and
Giving way
As he had done
Years before,
Losing the battle
Between himself
And the Horrors
Of War.
With the death
Of that
Oak Door
Came the death
Of our safety
And the Destruction
Of a Family
That was
From then,
Forever lost.
I’m a modern Native American
Recalling with pride
Our mighty Indian Nations
Before the attempted Genocide.
The tide of invaders that
Washed across these lands
With conquest in their hearts
And guns in their hands.
They said we were savages
They just didn’t understand
We lived in harmony with nature
Loved and respected our land.
They came to our campfires
Took the Pipe of Peace to smoke
Gave us their worthless treaties
Which they just as casually broke..
They killed us with their weapons
Gave us their strange diseases
Gave our warriors firewater
Behaved just as they pleased,
Then they took the remnants
Of our once proud nations
And herded them to the misery of
The confines of the reservations.
Thinking of the degradation
Of those many wasted years,
Thinking of the shame,
The millions of unshed tears.
Somehow we few survived
Against all the many odds
Perhaps blessed by Manitou
Our life force God of all Gods.
I’m a modern Native American
And we’re regaining our pride
Proud of those once mighty nations
Before the attempted Genocide.
*On The Run*
Hunted by my past, trailed by my shadow,
Intoxicated by elixir of youth,
I climb the ìrókò beyond the leaves.
Wail of woes, dehydrated dreams
Crushed in the battlefield of the deep;
Love lost, hoarse voice, greying hairs.
The wind slaps me cold,
Drunk with evil pleasure,
Sweet sorrow envelopes me;
Then it dawns on me,
I’d frittered the forest and harried the sea
With eyes larger than my stomach
While lost in the jungle of ambition.
I have impregnated the sand
and birthed blood;
Now,
Buried in the remnant of the night,
Fame
Is a remote treacherous valley
of thorny roses.
Wandering in the wilderness of civilization,
The stench of my decomposing sins has found me out.
A prisoner in my own skin,
I must hide and run,
And run and hide.
Solace in firewater and ghettos,
Like the hourglass,
I must hit the highway
And journey to nowhere.
In the end,
I can't outrun my shadow.
Once upon a time in the land of the Hobbits,
Fili was annoyed. He wanted excitement.
He was the youngest of the twelve dwarves,
Dressed in a blue cloak and sporting a yellow beard,
He entered into his tree house in an angry mood.
Up in the attic he sat on a stool and pondered.
That night all fairyland would celebrate
The great feast of Midsummer. And everyone
Would parade his oft practiced skills.
Alas Fili had nothing spectacular to show.
In the dim light of the attic he spied a shine.
Fili had the best eyesight and somehow knew
There below the cupboard lay an alexandrite lode.
It shone and magic oozed out of it.
What could it be? He grabbed it and saw
A parchment with strange signs he could not understand.
Yet in the bottom was written so very clear:
Use me to fly, turn, swirl, but you must
Understand the signs or suffer you will.
A Catherine wheel opened the feast lightning the glen.
Immediately thousands upon thousands of fireflies
Flew around and illuminated the open grassy space.
Elves brought in the beer, sweetmeats, firewater.
The Firstborns danced around the Maypole,
Frog dances abounded as elves escorted the Fairy Queen
To her elaborated decorative throne. She smiled
And after a while she clapped her hers, and amid the clapping
She gave the sign that the much sought contest can start.
To be continued
All top hats and class,
like the gentleman who knows
how to throw you against a wall;
Words so cordial
but hand him a guitar
and everything comes unhinged;
Leaving you hallucinating
on that beautiful scream;
He’s never less than firewater;
Pure fire water;
Stealing the sound echoing in your head,
Grabbing you
like he’s kissing your hand;
Right before fracturing your jaw again;
All suave with a perfect touch
like the gentleman who knows too much,
and how to dance;
No need for any kind of buzz
He’s already firewater;
Pure firewater;
Baby, just hand him that guitar;
He’ll take you where you want to go
He’s the matchstick, detonate delicately;
He’s never less than firewater,
Pure firewater.
How wicked the tricks of your serpent’s lair
a lingual place of wild mango magic behind caliente lips
where a supple sensualist lies in seductive ambush—
rum on the rocks spices the red bed of your taste buds
libation temptation whets my wish like a knife on stone
medieval my want to stir my tongue in your firewater
my fingers a captivated trellis
jealous and zealous carefree and careless
find their way to getting lost in your midnight curls
S curves wind from devil depths to bind
aroused fingers— coiled accomplices hold me captive
as I’m pulled in with potion-puncture fangs
piercing my heart deep piercing my soul sweet
eyes of winter blue skies belie your stealth
l i p s heat-seek as you place your face to mine
tongue flicks for a taste ah flirts with lust-basted taste
yes y e s s s press your whispering mouth on mine
my mouth blooms like a dusk-loving moonflower
throat white against night my breath your honeysuckle
unholy hunger unleashed a famished desperation
my desperation so full of babydoll flame and ash
your jaw unhinges to swallow whole my fire and ire
oh bend me like a willow in the tongue-tie of your kiss
break me take me make me buy the bliss in your hiss
feed me fantasies I need to cede lace without chains
as hush-winged-talons scythe bloodstreams of dreams
bleed me in the weed greed of your sidewinding river
‘til you shed my love the way a constrictor sheds skin
I crave to tame you claim you
make you my burlesque feather boa—
your lightning I’d capture
and wear your glamour with rapture
instead of being your convenience pet kept
Ice dripping down my scorching neck
Running down my neck
Sliding over my breasts
Circling my belly button
I shiver at the touch
The heat keeps building
I can barely stand it
I can’t stand this heat
Take everything off
Follow the ice
Follow the motions
Cool me down, with your mouth
Sweating against your body
I can feel this fever rising
My legs wrapped around your back
Licking your lips
This heat won’t seem to go away
As I watch the cool water from the oceans edge near
I roll on the sand
Looking upon you
My eyes gleaming from the heat of my insides
Take me right here in the sand
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