Whiskey Poems - Poems about Whiskey

You offered me wings I clung to pristine majesty Sometimes it has to end Gambling and whiskey never Left a night any less lonesome I'm still torn up inside The avenue and alleys Were once all that really mattered You offered me wings and I clung to the sky ...

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babe I stumbled home— drenched in Guinness, soaked in guilt the apartment crumbles, a shattered ruin but you—your copper mane ablaze— my wild Morrigan a feral Celtic Faerie Queene waging war against the wreckage. You told me love was a lie stitched by leprechauns but your touch proves there’s truth in everything we break and rebuild. Chased the wail of a banshee tonight hoping to drown the shame gulped it...

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Neon haze on cobblestone nights, whispers ride on the southern moonlight. Shadows dance in the lamplight’s gleam, bourbon burns, but so do my dreams. There's a preacher on the corner, selling sinners one last prayer. But the devil’s got a table, and he’s pulling up a chair. Oh, Bourbon Street, take my soul, drown my sins in rock and roll. Golden whiskey, lace and lies, where...

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The trumpet cries beneath the neon glow, a golden wail that haunts the hollow night. The bass line walks where lonely spirits go, its heartbeat steady, low and laced with bite. Her voice is velvet, dipped in smoke and sin, a lullaby for hearts too torn to mend. She sings of love, of loss, of what has been, each note a ghost...

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I'm seeing double, the room spins, I can't remember where I've been, I drown my sorrows in this glass, And hope this feeling, it won't last. My heart is heavy, my mind is numb, The whiskey burns, but it's not enough, To dull the pain that's deep inside, Or erase the memories I try to hide. The music plays, the people dance, But I'm...

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A young man, barely twenty-one, On the town in search of fun. The wrong side of the railroad track And somehow never made it back. A pickup truck, a black guitar… I thought that they would take me far. But music with no solid plan Meant nothing when I met Suzanne. Used to think that...

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I open the jar of poems like a bottle of whiskey on a long night, where the poet's whispers are raw and direct, a course of love in four acts, obsessions and (un)blamable loves writhe like cigarette smoke in the room, and we laugh blue, like ink spilled on a dirty table. I swallow the silence like a bitter...

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The whiskey flows, my mind it numbs, I hear the sirens, the world it hums, My heart is heavy, my soul is lost, The bottle's empty, at what cost? The lullaby it sings so sweet, A melody of pain and defeat, It tells of tales of broken hearts, And tears that fall like shattered shards. The smell of smoke, the taste of ash, A...

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[Guitar solo introduction] [Chorus] Oh look at what the cat dragged in, and he looks like the dog worked him over too, and for some reason he thinks he smells like clover, was it whisky or wine? or was it too much beer? you just can't resist, and you never desist, chasing skirts and getting looped and coming home but you know I...

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Whiskey and Rum after the nursery rhyme Coffee and Tea My twin sister and I were drunk, All our money on booze was sunk. She loved whiskey and I loved rum, We robbed the store and had more fun!...

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this is our supermarket idea two aisles Legit beans. ...

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War to go One scream away From murder Art done right Never to fight Conscience of convenience Sand blind cold boots pant rash hair clay mud pies Resident sadists social decay Where there are no truths and no lies Foot soldiers claim Their genocide bouquet When one of the greatest stays Gives people time to escape You already can guess his fate...

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Written: September 16, 2023 ______________________________________________________________ In arrant essence, without a fight, Herald of vamps, in the dead of night Ushers a raw wave that captivates, The heights of the cosmos resonate. Wax in our ears, the truth we long to hear, Despite fear or quaint hopes, with zeal, we steer. In bravery, the sun's light subdues the sight. Rolling through the despair of a...

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Sunny summertime A more, whiskey it's a thing Watching the wednesday At Gold Star Bar...

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Drowning in a whiskey river, The current pulls me under. All alone, my head is swimming, Oblivious to my blunder. I try to rise to my feet, But only stagger like a clown. A sad effort to cross the room, Only to find myself face down. Still haunted by a broken heart, Alas, there'll be no tomorrow. As I gasp my final breath, The lights go...

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