Long Liquored Poems

"Dream 1: 4 Weeks in Positano"



Kisses long linger warm lips tasted intense
so sweet like cured Valencia Oranges
lips liquored triple sec not dry drunk on love
softly grazed, then held long

slow, deep, warm and wet

The story is...

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Flim-Flam dances to the beat of a drugged out drummer
Her moves are suggestive and sometimes vulgar
Her hands are soiled and damp holding onto the grimy pole
She’s topless and her dancing is like a listless puppet...

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(Up-Tempo Shuffle)


VERSE A

Each war of personalities
Within your crowded soul
Reaps a gasp of mystery
Anticipated - anticipated ...

But just a flash of golden-green
One sweetened liquored gaze
I'm on a slope that's slippery
Intoxicated - intoxicated - oh


CHORUS 1

I drink...

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"WATERFALLS AND NIGHTMARES"


I was in bed naked when she walked in.
she leaned in to fix the pillow behind my head.
her breasts stared at me like owls of the night 
from an unintentional opening in her...

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Old Jacob was hard, but that was the only life that he knew,
At fourteen made his first cattle drive and was top hand with the crew.
He could ride, rope, wrangle, and shoot,
And helped to hang...

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In my room, nice and quiet.
Until footsteps from out the door.
Dad comes in all liquored up,
NOt like usual a little more.
The yelling starts,
the violence begins,
He tells me to get ready to pay for my sins.
Jolts...

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Jack is in love
with his main trigger squeeze
Daniel’s in love,
got bottled up 
Passion 
pressure is a light pull release
Drawing the corked trigger
puts a Happy Hour liquid cap in his heart
His precious metal baby
ain’t no gun...

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Imagination nude
liquored and lacquered lips
ember-breathing phoenix
..lighter fluid magic
when let loose near a flame..
combustible thigh-highs
when moonshine-high is nigh—
the moon she bathes in dreams

I have you both in hand
my tongue slick and sleek seeks
to taste the fruits...

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Most dastardly
Executive Majesty,
we serve at your pique pleasure
obsequiously so 

Yea, Darth Lord,
we be the surreptitious, servile ones:
Leper skin publicans, publicly hiss reviled

Tonsil rear ends torqued low 
is our mealy-mouth status quo

We’re liquored up lap dogs

Always...

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To hear the sounds that laughter sends 
Soaring beyond the earthly realms 
To taste the liquored lips of death 
And breathe my last shallow breath 
For one does not know of fear 
Until the wretched...

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Lumina’s Light 

Light had faded in reflection from start to finish bitter battered final end
Bright mirror’s prisms a blinding darkened prison in her luscious name

Long lost love conceived in lust and lustre looming large from...

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I fell in love with a Drunken Poet
When with light My Grail He fills
Lyrical Creativity intercourse with pen and paper spill
With Rhymes and reasons salutations 
Filled so full, Colorful My imagination
Drunken poetry obliteration 
He drinks...

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He walked, he danced
His shadow played the deck
She talked him to his wallet 
And out of his pants

Like whiskey
Her lips, liquored up his thoughts
With a lisp
She whispered finally found 

Portland had a mime
No one seemed...

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This is the last poem forming a trilogy of Spenserian Sonnets written in trochee pentameter relating to the sea. The first poem is titled Mike's Bar, second poem Shanghaied, third poem Bucket Of Bolts.


Servin' me...

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Straight in His Caneback Chair

	 Ireland to America, long ago

In this Kerryman’s eyes
you can still see
big ships sail
and lighthouses flicker
light years away.
He’s 70 today
and sits tombstone straight
in his caneback chair.
He waves at the flake
hanging from...

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Stroke
 
    		Ireland to America, long ago
 
In this Kerryman’s eyes
you can still see
big ships sail
and lighthouses flicker
light years away.
He’s 70 today
and sits tombstone straight
in his caneback chair.
He waves at the flake
hanging...

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Stepping lightly across splintering old wooden floor
Tiptoe cautiously past the open bedroom door
Sucking in not daring to breath as I silently pass by
Soft raspy snoring giving way, able now to breath a sigh
The alcohol it...

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GIN MILLS

Battered pay phones
hung on the walls
their rings
harsh reminders.
They sat,
ageing men,
hunched
on barstools
brooding faces
glaring into
sullen evidence
of reflected disdain.
Younger men stood
milling about
regaling each other
with exaggerated misdeeds.
The old payphone’s ring
coldly calling those
who were never there.
There was no “top”...

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Legendary lovers lay low,
Lurking longingly like lorikeets,
Languishing beneath a clump of larches,
Lena flirting with Leander
Lunching on lotus flowers,
Lost bearings to all.
Liquored up into a dual lullaby
Listening to a lay from Lake Lethe,
Eyes lit in lambent...

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