Long Hard liquor Poems
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Alcohol is a culturally accepted drug
Many drink alcohol at point in their lives
Some only drink during social occasions
Others may have an evening glass of wine
Moderate alcohol consumption can reduce your risk of heart disease
The benefit is not so great that a non-drinker should consider drinking alcohol
About 1/3 of those drinking alcohol will develop problems with alcohol
Drinking problems can increased your risk of serious health problems
Accidents
Or injuries
If you want to drink alcohol
Moderate consumption is considered safe
Moderate drinking is considered 2 drinks a day for men
1 a day for women or lighter-weight men
A drink is 12 ounces of beer
5 ounces of wine
1 ½ ounces of hard liquor
Each one counts as one carbohydrate choice
2022015
I grew up in a household that didn’t even drink,
So, it never occurred to me to even start.
Not even in my wildest dreams did I ever think
That, later in life, alcohol would play such a big part.
I was in college when I first tried a can of beer.
I knew right away what they meant by “acquired taste”.
It was the hard liquor that my liver held so dear,
And I could never seem to let any go to waste.
I loved to party and drank as much as I could.
And my friends always told me that they would drive me home.
All I had to do was call them, but I never would.
I would always take a chance and just drive home alone.
After I was married, I got a few D.U.I.s,
But it was a lesson that I would never learn.
Even after having a child, it didn’t open my eyes.
Sobriety is something that you have to earn.
As I drove home one night after drinking,
The middle of the road became a little blurry.
I crossed the line and hit a car while I was blinking.
Everything happens slowly when you’re in a hurry.
I wasn’t hurt, but the two in the car were crushed.
I was able to pull them out while they were still alive.
They looked like they were sleeping, their faces were flushed.
I’ll never forget the night I killed my child and my wife.
at the tavern in the darkening hours
a drunkard swallows the small world reflected in his glass
at one gulp, emboldened, he dances with inflamed eyes
brandishing the ornamental sword taken down from the wall
and yells “I conquered the world, I unified the country”
“wow, be careful! you may hurt the others”
when the sword, however, fails to find the sworn enemy
to thrust or to slash
the aimless point of the sword flashes through the air
and each time he wields the sword sparks fly
when the sword dance becomes wilder, the world
under the drunkard’s feet staggers; the drunkard
pours the unbalanced world into his glass
and shares out his spoils looted while dancing the wild sword dance
“hey, you! haven’t you heard of Hess’ Law before?”
it’s pitiful to watch the defeated ones lying on the floor
bleeding from their wounds, the horrors heaped up all day
turn into darkness, and as darkness thickens
a stray glimmering star appears in the sky above the horizon
the star looking at its own image
reflecting in the little world in the glass
falls from the sky intoxicated by the smell of hard liquor
becomes a drop of dew and sleeps lying on a street lamp
My grandfather taught me an unusual way to catch fish.
I tried it out one night I went with mom who is a musician.
During the day, she gives well off kids, music lessons, piano, guitar, and so on.
Mom is versatile in the music realm, not only instrumental, but composes and sings.
At night she plays in a hula dance troupe known as an Halau (hah-LAU).
They perform at hotels for the tourist, one was Ross Martin from 'Wild, Wild, West', TV series of the 60's, who met personally with the halau, backstage--and an 8 year old me.
I did what was told me by grandpa.
I brought from the house a few bread in its plastic bag.
Where mom plays at night, there's a hotel bar, the hotel sits on the bayfront of Hilo.
Outside the lounge sits stacks of discarded hard liquor bottles that's not always completely empty.
I would pour whatever liquor into the plastic bag of bread, as it sops it up really fast.
I would break up the soaked liquor bread and toss into the bay that's a few feet away from the hotel.
I would have dad's big net with the long handle and wait a short while.
Soon, fish will float up on their sides, stiff and not dead.
I would scoop them up and put them in our Hinode Rice cloth bag.
As they are a variety of fish that would float up, I scooped only one that I like.
The rest would revive and swim away, whilst the caught ones would be slammed onto the ground until the bag stopped moving--better than a prolonged suffocation and or fried alive, which is the method since they are too small of a bother to chop.
We call them, Manini (MAH-knee-knee) which means small in Hawaiian.
They are really good eating fish, very oil enriched--great frying fish.
Silvery body with sparse black stripes going down their flat sides.
Night trips with mom produces a catch between 12 to 18 manini's.
We also have spaghetti, beef stew, curry stew, and I am not listing any Hawaiian food as they are too great a variety.
Date: 06/15/2019
Old boozed Willy was hostile and not ready to lose;
a dirty face, a glowing nose...
only a firefighter's water hose
could have put out the heat he had gotten from the booze!
All the boys of Tumbleweed scampered like chased mice
as they saw his bulgy belly hanging from his trousers...
ah, his bad breath had the stench of a piggy;
they yelled angrily, " Go to another town, fatty! "
What was on his hot, red tongue?
The smell of Johnny Walker's whiskey?
They always saw him leaping like a frog...
when he finally got up, he looked so scary!
Who crossed Willy...driving him to drink that poison?
He cussed everyone getting a bit closer to his whiskey,
never did he mess with a chubby, bickering mommy,
who came running,...brandishing a long, black baton!
One noon there was a large rally by his door
to evict him from his bungalow...what was the reaction of Willy?
He brought out a case of expensive whiskey,
and offered them lots of drinks...they drank and felt mellow!
So they kept on drinking the hard liquor...
until it hurt their full, burping beer-bellies,
but one of them quite sober hollered with a stuttering voice,
" Get Willy, he stole all the whiskey from the Happy Hour Bar!
Old boozed Willy was hostile and not ready to lose;
a dirty face, a glowing nose...
only a firefighter's water hose
could have put out the heat he had gotten from the booze!
My comment:
It wasn't fair to chase after Old Willy after
they drank his whiskey, even 'though they found out
it was stolen. They weren't a bit thankful or compassionate,
but drinking it without asking him how he got it,
made them his partners in crime!
Clouds at her feet, she hangs her head
Thinking she should have stayed in bed
Days into nights just one big blur
Masking effects of hard liquor
As dusk gives way to stars of dread
In an effort to block what’s said
Before last fantasies are dead
Dream being an adventurer
Clouds at her feet
Feelings of joy have all but fled
She’d have to overcome this dread
Rekindle passions deep that stir
Ignite embers that do recur
Take flight and soar full speed ahead
Clouds at her feet
AP: 2nd place 2021, Honorable Mention 2025
Submitted on September 25, 2018 for contest END SEPTEMBER 2018 STANDARD sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST
"As a dog returneth to his vomit, so a fool returneth to his folly." - Proverbs 26:11 (KJ version)
Imploding glass into my martini
Hard liquor…hard glass
Shattering my soul and body
The visual alone left me dead drunk
Like a salty dog awaiting hell
I fell…before the glass ever emptied
Wondering the thoughts of those around
Though I lied and said I didn't care
Stranger's thoughts were everything to me
Honesty drained like a cold beer on a Sunday morning
Cornered by a truth that stings
Filled with pain and shards of acceptance
I was bent on worshiping this feeling
Because rain falls and cools the anger
Just as sorrow freezes the spirits
Glasses clank
No thought of joining—no intake
A watch always from afar
A flash of relish for this emotional bar
Everything melted like a dream
I was awake in this stupor on the kitchen floor
Tired, naked, writhing in vomit
Lapping it up like whiskey
Only to extricate all of it again
-do excuse these...just reposting some oldies that I had taken off for a time for evaluation and revision..-
To be these days on the front line sucks
but also, to be last in line sucks
to get hit from behind when you are at a stop sign sucks
A sour grape (not just one on a vine) sucks
Pandemic’s closing of your favorite place to dine sucks
To be a cat on life number nine sucks
To be so sick you always must recline sucks
To learn one’s cult is not divine sucks
During Xmas time especially, to be allergic to pine sucks
To see those protesting destroying your beloved shrine sucks
To want hard liquor when there’s only sweet red wine sucks
To want red wine when all you find is moonshine sucks
To learn your faux fur coat is made from an exotic feline sucks
Asked to explain a word you used (but can’t even define) sucks
To never be able on issues with your partner to align sucks
To have to be with people who act like swine sucks
To be a someone who lacks a spine sucks
For you to have to listen to me whine sucks
To have to stay inside your house confined sucks
For me to end this poem with two near-rhymes really really sucks
N/A
Aug. 10, 2020 for the "It Sucks" Poetry contest
I've been up at night lately
I can't seem to fall asleep lately
I keep lying to myself lately
I know what it's like to lose somebody you love
I know what it's like to lose yourself to the drugs
I remember your face and then I burst into tears
I remember your laugh and then I burst into tears
All the good times we shared
all the hard liquor we shared
I knew your entire family and u knew mine
I've known u since I was eleven and u were nine
I haven't been myself lately
I feel like someone else lately
I've been thinking about you lately
I went away to study but we kept in touch
But as the years went by we fell out of touch
When you fell sick I sat and watched in fear
Couldn't imagine losing a friend that was so dear
I thought that you would get better
Just like the sky after bad weather
But the rain never stopped falling and that little dark voice kept on calling
As time went by you got worse and worse
Pill after pill and test after test
The battle for life became harder and harder
I wanted to call so many times and ask how you are doing
But something always came up and I end up forgetting
The last thing you posted online was why be miserable during your last days ?
Then there was no update the following days
Lupus took my friend away from me
A friend who always saw the best in me
A true hero and a real fighter who is forever with me
Do you know what it's like to lose somebody you love ?
The Right Choices
There are those who have gladly made their drugs of choice.
Then, there are those whose choices took away their voice.
When just a little lad, I stealthily opened our refrigerator, and experienced such distaste as I secretly drank hard liquor.
Fortunately, for me, neither of my parents ever discovered my crime.
In addition, thankfully, I never acquired a taste for drinking a second time.
And also when just a lad, with friends I secretly took puffs from cigarettes.
Again, I escaped detection; and for this deed, my parents never had to protest.
O, the deeds of a child that often remain hidden and never remedied.
But then, there are those who early on, choose rightly by God’s Grace alone.
They make better choices; drugs never being among them.
And O, what pain we avoid, by making the right choices.
05302016 PS Contest, That Colorful Drug, by Lewis Raynes; HM
Contest, Any HM ever, Laura Loo; 5th Pl.