Ardor or Orphic
What wheat has become
A blanket for a beating heart?
Not rushed but suddenly
Sewn in this

Sweet cacophony of impertinent rhythm

What roses, mad and pure,
In mid-efflorescence hide playfully
Amongst flax-strung tongue figurines such as these?
Effort wrought brought stars to skin
A celestial proposition in Morse Code
Blinking with summer’s language
Batting eyelashes light up saccharine
Skies of humid veneration

And the gardens before us,
In all their fervor
Cast heat deep into Evening’s cerulean ocean
And the gardens before us,
In all their fervor
Cast heat deep into Evening’s cerulean ocean,

And our bodies reflexive
Rippled and dissipated in a breeze
Of delicate liqueur almost as if
We were nothing at all all along

Men at bars cuddle their Mothers,
though the membrane of the woods smothered,
Soul drowning to find ache, curt
and half cut, been there - hurts
lost soul, he stares into nothing.

Who is he? Choking
silent clock descends, lowers
his spirit, that noir beast dreams,
he begins to lurch,
compelled move on, yet frozen
ice to the pool, cement in steel.

Brianna 3d

I'm typing in lowercase letters but dreaming in capitals.

i'm swallowing pills and alcohol to numb the pain hoping for solitude in a bottle.
you're cute, i think?
sitting over there at the bar staring at me like i could be someone you want to get to know.
you're cute, i think?
but baby, i'm just a drunk girl at a bar taking too many drugs to even care about what your name is so please stop talking.

you slide over a glass of scotch, neat and cold, disgusting as i drink it down.  
you keep talking about how pretty my eyes are and how cute my hair is and where'd i get that nice dress and why is a cute girl like you at a bar all alone.
please... stop talking.

your hand is creeping up my thigh, and I'm too numb to stop you
the pills are kicking in and you are starting to look like him...
If i drink a little more maybe i can stomach going home with you and drowning my pain with lust.
but for the love of god, please stop talking.

he left three months ago, took his clothes and a toothbrush and headed out.
he kissed my cheek... he said he'd be on the next train home as soon as he could and left with no explanation.
he's married now.
his kids are cute.
he named one after me... which is disgusting and i wonder if his wife knows.

you are still there... wonderful.
i take one last swig of liquor and grab your hand; stumbling from the bar and slurring my words.
i laugh, because it's cute when girls laugh right?
you smile -- and i really can't tell are you ugly or not?
who fucking cares.

i'm typing in lowercase letters dreaming in capitals.
i'm going to go home with this man and pretend he's you.

cheers to drowning out the noise in lust and liquor.

take the pain and down it through what will be hollow
we learn to know the truth as it's shown...
are you ready to see the ghosts of the silence?
the kids can't sleep here after all...

your hands are in your pockets when you're face hurts,
and your body's no longer frozen by the door...
you're not the only one who knows you're washing it down,
the kids can't sleep here after all...

Rose L 4d

God! Bring me down a trail of violets
Bright violets for my love who drinks too much.
For there is no fault in evenings spent dancing to old songs -
writhing, primordial dancers, our shadows burnt onto the rocks behind by fire
the air gliding around us like water in a stream.
We are heavy things. Our bones are filled with blood
and when we grasp each other we rip the stems apart
And oily petals seep from underthings.
Red, thick hot oily petals
Rose petals
That weep for us and die for us as we lie
Clasped together like thorns
Too late to continue our travels together
I will come back and bury you, I promise.

Kesha 6d

The image of your face
Tortured me into
A trance like state.

Caused me to break.

Resorting to drugs
Was my only escape.

My ears couldn't handle
the sound of your name.

My arms couldn't bear
the embrace of emptiness.

The bitter cold nights,
A constant reminder
of your absence.

White sugar
Dripped slowly
Down my esophagus.

My nose slightly numbed
From the snooting of my escape.

Euphoria enveloped me,
And I forgot about the pain.


Forgetting you,
Became my only mission.

I danced all night,
With Tila Tequila
And a white girl
Named Ivory.

My hips swayed,
My head bobbed,
As I blared some music,
and made love

to a girl named


An alcomoholic named Moses
Drank one day the largest of doses:
   He drank so much liquor
   He never was sicker
Until he developed cirrhosis.


Jack Moody Jun 19

going out for a drink on a weekend night
is like stepping into a zoo run by the animals
it becomes profoundly depressing
the people stumble and slur
spit and hack and vomit on each other
scream and fight and babble about nothing
it’s like a ralph steadman drawing
the scene is grotesque
and I begin to wonder
my god,
is this what I normally look like to the people around me?

nights like these make me question my choices
the drink no longer works and it grabs my hand
as it takes a nosedive off
the cliff’s edge I was so tentatively balanced upon

a drunk man with barbeque sauce spread across his face
says he likes me and has a gift for me
it’s a lint-covered pile of
chewing tobacco directly from his pocket
I haven’t said a word
he doesn’t know me
he doesn’t like me
I don’t like him
I look at his eyes
there’s nothing in there

someone go find the zookeeper

Morgan Kelly Jun 19

Remember when your father left you?
Well, I sure do
Because it follows me around every day,
Especially times like these.
And no one understands how that can make you feel
When someone else leaves too.

You think to yourself,
“This is the person, this is who will stay,”
And even when things are going wrong,
Affecting you,
You still say,
“But this is a constant, and it is safe,
I want to stay.”

But some people aren’t ready,
And maybe some people don’t care.
Either way, they can go easily,
And eventually find some new pair.
But that desperation stays with you,
To feel safe and in a constant,
And so you go through a panic,
A frenzy,
That no one understands.

People will judge,
And say what they think,
But they will never understand,
The true feeling of being the daughter of an alcoholic.

Because if they did,
They would not pass judgment,
And, perhaps, would not even be pompous,
About how people “should” act,
Because there is no true way,
To get over being left.

And so today on this Father’s Day,
And week where many things have come to end,
Just remember to
Live and let live,
Listen and learn,
Let go and let God,
And most importantly,
Take things one day at a time.

A lot of these slogans (or just parts in the poem) refer back to al anon phrases. It will probably be hard to completely understand if you have never been involved with an alcoholic, or someone who has abandoned your family as a result of the disease.

I tried everything to silence the monsters that are in control.
Unspeakable methods
just to save my soul.

Attempted drowning them with every bottle I could find.
Till the alcohol completely flooded my mind.
I passed countless ladies through my bed.
Praying their moans would quiet the voices in my head.
Late nights spent numb and floating endlessly from the narcotics.
Out of reach from the monsters before I turned psychotic.

My intentions were honorable
but my design fucking unforgivable.

Endless hours trying to put my monsters in a grave.
I became the devil and now these demons are my slaves.

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