Whisky, I neglected you
For mushrooms and amphetamines.
For ket and **** and LSD,
And Mandy too, to name a few.

Needn’t I have looked so far
To be the greatest of cliches.
The drugs and raves led me astray.
For writers, scotch is more on par.

Half your bottle drank away,
Half full in my state of mind.
Every sip; sublime and kind,
Every **** a harshened spray.

Now I’m stuck, a drunken haze
Has washed and swept the ways of rhyme.
In its tide is also time,
As by the sun, the night decays.

Whisky, polished, final sip.
Like the bottle, I am dry.
So, I tried, to write not high.
This poem *****. I’m off to trip.

Sitting in the shower,
Downing liquid poison,
Ears awake to the ethereal sounds of emotions,
Letting the water hit my naked body,
Trying to forget past memories,
Scrolling through the relatable,
Feeling everything , yet nothing at all,
Wishing it would end for an old soul,
Just to retry again

Sent you a letter
Saying just how I feel
Never knew anything more real

I've been telling you more
I've been telling you less
I've been getting depressed
Tears are useless

Nobody knows
Nobody understands
Nobody cares
Not even you
Nobody knows
Nobody understands
Nobody cares
Except Johnny Jack James

Whisky, “The Water of Life”,
******* burning all down my chest.
Opening up my mind to endless imaginations
So I can put the world to rights
Like Superman in his pomp.

Feel that glow,
Spreading like a forest fire.
Feelgood Factor
Fathomless in its depth.

Who cares what peat, in what glens
Or valleys it came from.
Or what precipitation
Bathed those golden barley ears
On Celtic hillsides.

I’ll drink any Whisky,
Single or blend
White oak cask or not.
So long as it gives me that buzz
And blows my mind.
Inspiring the best
Or worst
In me.

Paul Butters

I like the nastiest bars,
Those where the waitress is called names
But she doesn't care 'cause she's too kind
And tries to keep it all clean for 400 a month.

Those bars have drama
Whole worlds and stories continuosly entangling,
Whisky on rocks, vomits and shouts
Here comes Rita the waitress to clean it all again;
Dogs bark in the streets
Women cry in their beds as men get drunk
And kick the innocent trash can over a discussion about gibberish.

The loner cat lurks the street at night
Hunting for hamburgers that fell off the trash can,
The drunk men start a fight,
'Here comes the police!' 'Run-run!'
One falls, gets the blame and a free trip to county jail,
Three others join a party and feed the ******
Money and **** --- tails.

Finally, the last one goes home
To beat the crying wife over the same junk
And the repressed anger only a coward can hide.

Trapped inside this stinking train
People off from work, off from class
Too much crowd, heating arguments
It's not their land, so no trouble here
Step aside, we are the locals here
Give not a chance, a politician barked
Who do you keep your respect for, huh?
Another lane, another sinking ship

Just a drop of whisky will cheer him up
He believed in it, poured a quarter cup
Tasted good, felt better, lightened head
Some dark grapes for a touch, he said
He looked around, saw me staring at him
All this people worried about the whining
Sparked from his friend, just for a seat
He had to cool the heat down for now

Whisky, all on my veins, the
golden liquor, The fine
malted grain spirit, aged in the
oak barrels for years,
The exquisite taste, with an ice,
or two for its anger to calm,
with zests of an orange, with
a lemon peel hooked on the glass,
with the light sip, savouring it
all over the taste buds, But
Its not why the glass is held,
All the times, its not all, Its,
Its about letting go, of which
can't be forgotten, letting go of what,
can't be let gone, most of all,
Burning the affectionate heart,
to debris, never being able to love.....

Some gulp,
others sip.
So much lovely variety
to the lip.

Many the blend,
together wedged -
some smoothe to the tongue,
others hard edged.

As we do differ -
so doth the taste.
Without that difference,
too much waste.

Variety rules!
Husband or wife,
water or whisky -
contrast is life.