Long Off the wagon Poems
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Survival of an ultra long week,
finally you see some light at the end;
Humor a little bit tongue in cheek?
Right now could be truly a godsend;
Up late in pyjamas watching cartoons,
always more than a little obscure;
Snacks like sweet meatballs, macaroons,
banana peppers, maybe soup du jour;
Brandishing a spatula around,
it quickly morphs into silverware;
Plates of the Midnight Gourmet abound,
all part of this gluttonous affair;
Box of crackers shaped like a bugle
filled with a huge dollop of spray cheese
lead to behavior less than frugal;
Stop adding the extra mayonnaise!
ALL of the leftovers in the fridge!
Ice cream with a caramel drizzle?!
What’s the reason for an all out binge?
I hope you have some Pepto Bismol;
It is such a spine chilling vision
to watch how quick you can devour
that new culinary creation
and keep going another hour;
There’s no off switch nor any limit,
the speed resembles the Autobahn;
You almost seem to be proud of it
as you open a second bonbon;
The clock keeps moving with a tick tock
as a potato grows on the couch;
Without a morsel left in the crock
sleepy shoulders are starting to slouch;
Quickly approaching a food coma
there’s no way to stop a rushing train;
Sugar overdose hitting plasma,
probably should learn to maintain;
It could wake you up in the morning
and keep you all day in the bathroom;
Up chucking with all that sweat pouring
you’ll feel like you belong in a tomb;
A face now soured a sickly green
seems to be turning a ghostly pale;
Leaving nothing left of the serene
that was there at the start of this tale;
Stuck in bed the rest of the weekend,
which wasn’t where you wanted to be;
Do not let this become a new trend,
to fall off the wagon easily;
It’s great to be fond of the kitchen,
but don’t become overzealous;
The gorge that started with a smidgen?
In hindsight less than hilarious.
he just meant to go for a pit stop of water
fell off the wagon and drowned once again
on the road to futile self-imposed slaughter
conflict full blown addiction and endless pain
once a man of status respect and composure
he puked and landed in a puddle of his spew
as he swerved home after too much exposure
of liquor which was the only solution he knew
his place was a broken bottle of cheap booze
sheltering fragile guilt fear anger and blame
with not much to gain but nothing left to lose
but a last dregg from illusion numbing his shame
he passed cardboard shelters and toothless tramps
thought them lucky in the shadow of lost time
faced vomit once more and shook a few hands
drew comfort from companions covered in grime
they have reached Atlantis and Nirvana he grinned
under wretched breath undeterred by his own smell
he gave them a few coins although he was skinned
may the good fortune speed up their passage to hell
not long now and I will join them at my destination
free of my own hypocrisy and reach final rewards
of intemperate uselessness and ultimate salvation
reach out to oblivion both wished for and abhorred
as the cold will reach my innermost inebriated core
once my soul becomes the spirit of true liberation
pickled in drunken demise wasted by a last score
my heart will stop beating and I’m past temptation
23rd December 2020
Kurt floats on bubble wrapped ice-cream in marshmallow guise
Swathed in a blanket of temptation he drifts on the sweet taste
White tender bliss cushioned in pink illusions of sugary dreams
Caress his saddle as he straddles a unicorn feathered in utopia
Embraced by illusions he gathers a magic wand at the cliff face
Until he surrenders further conquest to bare spurs of contempt
God forsaken euphoria bursts into warped time out of sequence
Mocks dyssynchronous promises engulfed in misplaced hooves
Delirious reigns swap place with a splintered crop along the ride
Soapsuds have lathered brutal leather as boots fail to prevent
A rapturous march from Nirvana to the peril of sunken Atlantis
Hell and the stallion break loose and the nightmare speeds up
Rapid descent unfolds rapturously in slow motion like a silent movie
About a horse whisperer seeking his voice as he falls off the wagon
Snout blistered and breathing in ravenous disbelief of misadventure
On the downward scarp of scarred remembrance of past decline
Kurt collects sunken feelings and braces himself for another attack
Invincibility could not last forever and he hangs low in crude defeat
08th March 2020
Another year
Of too much beer;
When will my head
Ever be clear?
*******
So, what's your solution?
Another resolution?
You've tried that before
The result's dissolution.
Joining a support group?
You think that's duck soup?
Nah. It's endless confession;
You'd feel like a snoop.
Taking up a new hobby?
To shake yourself up?
Sorry. No way. Not after
Your last relationship broke up.
Out of suggestions?
That begs this key question:
How long can you afford
To keep falling off the wagon?
*******
Well, in the way of a reply,
Allow me to say:
What just might do some good
Is to fix my 'true friend's' attitude!
she had lost the plot long before in an insane labyrinth of her mind
trapped in the rat race of high speed and the volume on full blast
incarcerated shackled and straight jacketed thumb screws and all
contorting denial delusion and psychedelic support to no valid avail
and the wall of her self-imposed prison was barbed with wire of pain
the maze of synaptic connections discharged commands of unreason
torturous wheels of cognition failed to balance fierce contradictions
twisting and hurting she succumbed to a myriad of fake solutions
turning the tourniquet tight to receive the message of brown sugar
winding serpentine paths misconstrued from temptation and promise
and still the garden remained a wasteland of intemperate indignation
she had fallen off the wagon so many times that the engine had stalled
sinews lay bare under a sinuous array of purulent scars and punctures
a tattered puzzle of perplexed bewilderment awaiting the ultimate shot
the heroine submerged in near namesake poison in face of the needle
as the epitaph neared completion and the funeral cortege proceeded
she prayed and surrendered to a white knuckling ride of withdrawal
dragons danced with cold turkeys on her tomb stone but they refused
to relinquish hope for affronted vultures puked at sight of her ghost and
she recalls near death experiences and abstinence as a miraculous gift
25th June 2020
There’s young girls and women
All frantically slimming
Perhaps they’re all seeking a mate
But blokes around here
Full of burgers and beer
Are ugly or well overweight
They wear their beer goggles
And when their mind boggles
They ask some old trout on a date
One snuck down an ally
With hideous Sally
Who offered herself on a plate
He fell off the wagon
And entered the dragon
Which meant a lot more than a date
She soon had a grumble
About that drunk fumble
‘You should have been careful... I’m late!’
That drunk was no baddie
But now he’s a daddy
He wasn’t expecting that fate
But fellas who wink
As they swig down a drink
Make dads who will soon abdicate
So put down your salad
For this is no ballad
And the blokes around here ain’t that great
Rainbow Nation
Blanca is white like beautiful snow in the Drakensberg Mountains
she snorted star powder past the perforated septum into her brain
Black as coal from the underworld mines in Mpumalanga Melanie
had her stomach pumped and purged while sleeping off darkness
Amber is coloured mixed race in the Rainbow of Nations her work
still paid in dop cheap vine that slaves her away in alcoholic trance
Arnav of Indian descent was hooked on dagga grown by the ocean
converted to heroin sold her frail body and skin for brown liquid sugar
Jacobus Bandele Lungelo and Bhavin shared needles and comfort
on the streets of Johannesburg flirted with disaster drug related crime
and their dealers cracked at the dawn longed for dust in the dusk
Drugs do not respect colour gender ability social class and religion
all druggies are equal with craving dependency not restricted to some
Now united in rehab like the state of the nation they all stood at the
table of mountains with one foot in the grave at the cliff face of habit
One day at the moment they now battle their demons resist the temptation
for only the time being from one morning away from the devious mourning
one drug line not taken one fall off the wagon shunned and avoided for now
They have all chased the dragon for far too long and imbibed with the devil
for so many wretched days and nights of delusion torment addiction and pain
Again once more each day anew their only chance to abstain one day at the time
If you're wheezing, barking and coughin',
You're game for a ride in a coffin
If you're smoking little cigars and cigarettes,
You're a smoking Looney and that's as bad it gets
And another thing, smoking is not your anxiety answer
It's just a good way to give yourself Cancer
You're a smoking Looney Tuney Maniac
And smoking will give you a heart attack
The Cigarette Twit has no good third Eye Sight
You can't convince them of what's wrong or right
With their third eye blind
They are outta their mind!
The smoking twit believes it calms their Nerves and Anxious Mind
But it's just a Placebo Effect they will someday find
With every cigarette you shorten your life
With tumors you may someday be rife
There's only one successful way to quit
You have to go Cold Turkey to get rid of the habit
Eat some candy, chew some gum, crack some Sunflower Seeds
To really stay quit, do whatever you need
One day, if you fall off the Wagon,
And you are again attacked by the Dragon
Because you need a smoke to accompany your Flagon
But now your Family and Friends start to Naggin'
If you think that you're smoking for Mental Health,
You're wrong, smoking is also expensive on your Physical Wealth
If you can't quit Cigarettes, take up Pipe smoking,
You don't inhale, still there's Oral Satisfaction, I'm not joking
If you still think that smoking is Mentally Calming,
Soon it's your who they will be embalming
What goes around comes around
Keep smoking and dead you will be found
If you keep abusing God's Temple,
The lesson to learn is simple
Death with a syckle on a Pale Horse
Will be hunting you down, of course
They say that the end of a poem is hardest to write
They say it's harder than seeing in the darkness of the night
It's not hard when you have good third Eye Sight
I'll show them all that I am right
I've written this stinking poem
Because the Smoking Twit, I know um
What is the most ironic thing
Is the fact that I am The Smo King!
Copyright Jeff W. Watson, July 25, 2026
They fade away
Like distant memories
Do not cling to their toxic remarks
It’s meant to pull you down
Hidden behind
Their smiles and falsified hugs
Of reassurance
Watch their hands
Watch your back
Do a double take
For the marks made by their knives
You might not feel it now
It might be just a scratch or two
Until it finds a foothold
And they grind them deep into your flesh
It is so easy to be sucked in
The need to belong so strong
Until the dark days come
And you are left alone
Wondering what happened
To the joy riders
They got off the wagon
Once they saw the self destruction sign
Up ahead
They did it with a smile
It is the only thing they know
Running away is their expert play
Lift your head up
Cry if you have to
But don’t give up
You still have a chance
This time do it with a sober mind
Do it for you
©175007072013
~
A broken torpedo got wedged in my eye,
making me squint out some tea
Laughed at a submarine sauntering by,
hoagies afloat on the sea
Gathering minnows from dams ‘bout to break,
opening flood gates again
Stood midst a puddle dressed up like a lake,
watching a red herring trend
Drove to the village where parrots can sing,
lyrics in cracker crumb chords
Clarinet solos encrusted with bling,
blended with Chevys or Fords
Fell off the wagon as drunk as a dog,
staggering, swaggering tail
Some call it beer but to me it’s called grog,
others will shout out, “it’s ale”
Snuck through the door where the hairdresser sleeps,
fondled her comb and her brush
Searched for the broom that her half-sister keeps,
swept but there wasn’t a rush
Gather your hopes in a jar on the sill,
pay past-due taxes on time
Ignore this verse, it is meant as a fill,
another stanza of rhyme
So here we have it, whatever you find,
words I decided to write
Merely a world that exists in my mind,
keeping me up late at night
Hoping for meanings as words start to dance,
all to a random request
Not even this has the faintest of chance,
I think it’s time for a rest
~