Long Liquor store Poems
Long Liquor store Poems. Below are the most popular long Liquor store by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Liquor store poems by poem length and keyword.
They said a funny Latin word,
they said that you were dead,
yet merrily you wagged your tail
when I took you to the vet.
You were not kind to chickens,
as well the neighbors know,
or come to that, to ducks and geese,
and yet I loved you so.
Oh, to recall the bygone days
we roamed and roved together,
sometimes when snow lay all about,
sometimes o'er hills of heather.
Our walkies to the liquor store,
our excursions to the bar,
and all those times you led me home
when I couldn't use the car.
At night, I swear, an angel
looms in the purple sky,
and on a gently twinkling leash
you, Lady, lead on high.
Let’s not even swap names,
just live in the now, with no strings, no stakes.
Hold me close, but loose enough to let go.
Come sunrise, I will be just a whisper in your memory.
Let’s hit the liquor store, tonight.
Two shots, to wash down the memories,
and keep tomorrow a stranger.
No need for histories or questions,
just a walk under reckless skies.
Let’s be trouble we won’t confess,
a secret we will forget come morning.
We are here for one night, only
two strangers hiding in the city lights,
craving the comfort of being unknown.
By dawn, we will be strangers again,
and I will walk away with just your warmth on my skin.
No promises, no pieces left behind,
just one night, only.
The 18th Amendment on Prohibition was debunked in 1933 and replaced by the 21st Amendment that legalized the sale of liquor throughout the country. However, in my state there were counties who chose to remain 'legally dry', but never ceased to drink. And there was a county adjacent to mine that preferred to be wet and sell liquor legally.
When I was just a lad in the early 60's and did not understand 'wet and dry', I was well acquainted with 'drunk and sober'; and I knew that the thirst for liquor did not stop at the county line. Though my county was still legally dry, it was just as precipitated with moonshine as any wet county.
Up the road from my home was a two-story property whose inhabitant made desirable corn whiskey. I knew it was true for sure when coming from school one day, the booze had been poured out all along the roadway and entrenched with an odor no child should ever be allowed to inhale. The community moonshiner had been busted and carried off to jail.
To no one's surprise, by the time I finished high school in 1967, my county had become legally wet like all the rest. I stood and stared at the first liquor store I had ever seen in my county, and there was not a single protest. And even back then, the child in me thought it best that liquor should be found in a store than on a roadway leading to my home.
08302017PoSoupContest, Your Favorite Poem From August 2017, Julia Ward
A(nother) (Sh*tty) Sonnet
Cute girl who works the local liquor store
counter, I wonder sometimes how I strike
you.—am I happy in your eyes?—do you like
to speak, when daily, as a steady chore,
I stroll onto your heavenly sales floor?
(You said it was another day (yes fake)
‘in paradise’, in answer to my joke.—
—and then I left with my usual four.).
Reality looks (more (something)) like this:
biting my nails until they burn like hell,
eating my nervous thoughts,—binging and purging
on romance,—and on a deathly scourging
of emotional detachment. O’, belle,
there’s nothing more I miss than someone‘s kiss.
Chianti, Riesling, Chardonnay;
What kinda wine we gonna have today?
Pass that bottle, if you please -
I think I'll have a little more Chablis!
Swirl that stuff 'round in the glass...
Show 'em all that you got class!
Has it got the nose? Has it got the look?
Can you use it when you cook?
Wine, Wine, Wine
All hail the Grape Divine!
Wine, Wine, Wine
Makes everyone feel fine!
You got yours, I got mine -
Wine, Wine, Wine, Wine, Wine!
Sniff that bouquet up yer nose;
"What's the Year, d'you suppose?"
Could be red, could be white -
Either way, we're havin' wine tonight!
Truckin' on down to da liquor store;
Runnin' out - gotta get some more!
The folks at the counters all know my face -
I practically live down at the place!
Wine, Wine, Wine
All hail the Grape Divine!
Wine, Wine, Wine
Makes everyone feel fine!
You got yours, I got mine -
Wine, Wine, Wine, Wine, Wine!
Tokay, Shiraz, Pinot Noir!
I ain't never seen so many wines before!
Step right up and take a taste -
I ain't gonna let a single drop go to waste!
Wine, Wine, Wine
All hail the Grape Divine!
Wine, Wine, Wine
Makes everyone feel fine!
You got yours, and I got mine -
Wine, Wine, Wine, Wine, Wine!
Happy Hour is one drink short
of a buzz.
She’s found her remote
it was in the back of her mind
where remoteness begins.
It’s been a tough year so far
what with all this
apocalyptic going on,
but that’s not why
she changed the channel in her head,
it’s what I unthinkingly said
while swallowing down
one last slurp of margarita.
It was the words
that slid out of my mouth
that triggered her to turn me off,
and watch a revenge movie instead.
I'm determined that tomorrow
I will mix the drinks
and we won’t run dry,
just as long
as I can find a liquor store
amongst the rubble of our lives.
My wife and I both worked at a video game store.
They closed and we're not working there anymore.
They closed their doors because of this damn Coronavirus.
We're unemployed and no other businesses are willing to hire us.
We got our twelve hundred bucks from the Government but we had to pay a hospital bill.
We're in a sinking boat and it's going down fast, I wish that the Coronavirus wasn't real.
Our families and friends can't help us and we need cash.
I'm so desperate that I'm about to do something that's rash.
I need money because I'm out of a job.
I'm in a liquor store that I intend to rob.
I just pulled my gun on the owner and he has grabbed his gun as well.
He just shot me in the chest and in a moment, I'll be sent straight to Hell.
My wife will get my life insurance money because I'm going to cease to live.
Please talk to my wife on my behalf, please beg her to forgive.
This is an okay kind of day.
I try not to notice much,
and the ‘much’ pretty much ignores me.
There’s a flashy bookstore.
Bookstores don’t sell my kind of books anymore.
My favorite books are never interactive,
or linked to a crappy website.
The best authors are not - on-line celebrities.
I can’t read Tolkien anymore,
those ‘Ring’ movies stuck a sword
through the heart of my imagination;
now I only fantasize about sex.
I’m having a bad day now.
The street is full of cell-phone zombies;
the blind digitally humping the blind.
I’m an endangered sub-species – I’m old.
Back sometime in 1949,
I was also a street poem of sorts,
a dark secluded corner of a street.
I was a travelling squiggle of sperm. That was a fun time,
the whoosh of the whoosh was even better.
I’m grateful that my parents didn’t murder me,
thus, allowing me to write free verse street poetry,
or do I mean blank verse?
What the hell is poetry anyway (rhetorical pause),
probably not this.
This street is full of much more stuff than I care to mention.
However, there’s a liquor store.
Liquor store servers
always make a point of saying ‘have a nice day’,
you know they don’t mean it. They are professionals,
they know you are not buying all that booze
for a backyard party with your many friends.
The street ends about here,
it meanders off into the city
like a clean poem looking for a dirty ending.
I think the day is just okay again.
I was advised that walking is healthy and good for the heart
So with new walking shoes, I figured that was a good start
I walk here, I walk there, I walk the hell everywhere
I stroll to many new places; I do say I walk with flair
I walked to the donut shop, oh what a pleasure
I walked to the pizza parlor, and tasted a slice
I walked to the local Chocolatier, and tasted many a delight
On to the liquor store, for a bottle or two
I walked up with the drunks, lined in a queue
The ice cream shop down the street, yes I walked there too
Double scoops I had, with whipped cream on top
I walked to the Burger place, their fries so so yummy
Walking home, there was the coffee shop!!!, with pastries for me tummy
Walking is wonderful, and good for the heart
But let me tell you
Tomorrow
I am driving to the gym
Notes: Well I cant always write dark depressing poems! This was inspired by dinner at friends, and a great conversation over a bottle of wine, and for those with a wicked twisted sense of humor there is a secret not so poetic part 2 to this!!!!! You need to request!! :)
~The Looters Song~
"Hey, James is dead!"
He don't need no flowers!
But we need bricks and matches.
Time to burn down local businesses
All night and hit the police for hours.
Let's go wreck the liquor store!
I really need some cold malt.
James been dead, he don't need no flowers.
But we can steal all we want for hours.
We have zero respect for any law and order.
Get a shopping cart or a truck!
We might be on TV and can steal for hours.
This is another Christmas Eve for us.
Another brother hit the dust!
4/13/2021
~2-