Short Slurring Poems

Stigma; 
Kisses from Hell, 
slurring devoted fiend;
Your demons linger on my lips, 
scald me....

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Driver slurring his words and weaving on the road...
          Had too much fifth in his fourth celebration!...

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Seven slurring stout sociable salty sailors
Standing stealthily silent
Solo
Sharing secret salacious
Stirring sailing stories....

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Her vision was blurring
And her speech was slurring
And all she could ever think
Was how she was on the brink
Of falling off the mountain
Or drowning in the fountain
And she couldn't keep from telling this one little lie
"No. I don't want to die"...

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colour
crashes in
like waves
tossing and
turning

all senses 
blurring
words begin 
slurring

engulfed in
a hue
she can't think

move or
anything


in the pink






May 23rd 2019

Charlieku New Form Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Charles Messina...

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No, I haven’t any feta.
Why not? Came the reply
because I prefer chedda
Do you need to know why?

Chedda’s much betta
with burger and beer.
It makes no matta
if salad is near.

So, no, I have no feta.
I plan a sandwich lata.
maybe then I’ll have gouda
and its flava I will sava....

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I finger the rim of her goblet,
And speak with a slurring lisp:
"The floor won't clean itself,
no matter how many times I scream at it;
that's why I'm thankful you're in my life:
Because I rarely have to scream at you 
more than twice."

- This is the early warning sign:
That it's nearly my bed time...

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The sting of shattered trust
fills his veins with toxic spite,
contaminating his heart. 

He finds solace in a bottle,
quenching his resentment,
slurring forth caustic fumes;
nauseating his liver.

Until he spits her treachery up
with a sickening heave,
in the shallow, murky gutter
of a jaded man's reprieve.
 ....

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Drinking in a bar,
I was! I...were?...are? 
What's this 'fore my vision, blurred?
Say, she's kinda cute -
each fair attribute.
Soon my slurring words are heard, 

"You have lubbly hair!"
   "You're not looking there,
    and don't spill that on my lap."
To clean up, I knelt, 
Whereupon, I felt 
on my face, another slap.  
...

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Lost unto a Gin spin
The blood grows thin
To the beckoning 
Of a morning hangover of regret
And reading the tet a tet
Of slurring rambling 
The pre-amble 
Shall read
Here lies the afterbirth 
Of the Man Child Boy
Who writes until the morning 
Comes to fetch what is left
Of the night before 
Bore the brunt of self loathing 
In Emperor's cloaking...

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How times i pulled your hair from basin half sick filled
and cold sponged slurring love yous
borrowed always kept
tear always swept
How many midnight visits
and sofa turned to bed
breakfast smell
lingers with hot tea
and music all too loud
Those dicks who couldn't see her wonder
tears for those undeserved
i hope all she meet are honest
and her voice always heard...

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So honored today
Selected by boss
Emergency room now
Co-worker inside
Have to miss big day at school
After my jobs were done

Glad to be chosen
She is a good friend of mine
Having EKG
Invited me back
I could see she was afraid
So glad we are friends

Tried to remain calm
Slurring her words in my truck
A possible stroke
I said I would come inside
No one else here, so I wait....

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You flew through dinner, ate your fill, then . . . (drunk
on a fair amount of wine), happened
onto guests in the lounge and charmed
them, slurring secrets of the 
sutras. You spun child-like
through revolving doors,
then fell into
the taxi
with a 
smile.

Five words used for this poem: sutras, with, drunk, amount, revolving
for Caren Krutsinger's Mystery Word Find Poetry Contest...

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Please don't tell me, it's a lie.
lie, that you have been spinning.
'Cause I have seen it in your eyes.
Eyes, which were not slurring. 

And now, all I wanna do is cry.
Cry, because it was so perfect in the beginning.
Willingly, I touched our fated sky.
Sky, so dark but our stars were glimmering. 

Maybe, it's not hard to die.
Die, as hell I have been living. 
'Cause, when you left me dry, 
My heart couldn't help but ask, "why"?
...

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He hit the downbeat, found the blues,
Not to mention having no clues.
The jazz man could improvise and drag,
'Bad Penny Blues' an infamous rag. 

Slurring between riffs with such ease,
Trumpet proud he stood out from the sleaze.
Vamp chords repeated for our delight,
dissonance of students in bars each night. 

Jazz club hero Humph always will be,
Jam sessions when all tried to follow thee. 
And though no fun for your vetting,
His music alone was knicker-wetting!...

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