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I've found happiness
Sweet and empty,
Moments where pleasure
Teases and tempts me.

Let me float on,
And want for nothing,
Not money,
Not love,
No worries for me.

The world is in chaos,
Let people resent me;
I'd never repent,
Let my mind represent me;

Through violence
And vengeance
And dreams of
A silence,

A place we've destroyed
Through ignorance
And finance,

Where money and blood
Buy you bullets
And diamonds,

And everyone else
Can be bought or
Be silenced,

Where loyalty gets
Bought through
Hope and through fear,

And you spend
Every night hugging
Those you hold

When the sun's
Early light is a
Moment of peace,

And you look to the sky
And you sigh
And you

A contrast of sorts.  This poem is both what I'm feeling now and what I've felt and seen before. It's a kind of half dream, half vision I'm currently having. I'm kinda ******, hahaha! So... I don't really know what else to say about it. It can be sung like a traditional song.
Nigdaw May 14
tonight I am a poet
but that could just be
the drink talking
RC May 10
The cans in my room clang like church bells on a Sunday
waking me from a slumber as I roll in my blankets
the wind sweeps my cheek
my minds still asleep
but my eyes flutter anyway

I can taste last nights regrets on my tongue
like I spilled so many words
my mouth has nothing left to taste

Beer still rolls in my belly
holds me like an apology
as I reach for more water
I want to reach for something more
Will Apr 8
My throat's a cracked desert, a canyon so dry,
My heart's a lone tumbleweed, blown 'cross the sky.
My love turned to dust, like a wish swept away,
Leaving me empty, and oh, so parched today.

I reach for a bottle, its promise so sweet,
But the fire it brings offers only deceit.
It burns and it bites, yet the hurt lingers on,
My spirit cries out, for a love that is gone.

I'm trapped in this whirlwind, a spiraling fall,
Each sip that I take leaves me weaker and small.
The ache in my soul, a deep, endless sigh,
And the world spins around me, as I echo, "Bone dry."
relahxe Mar 28
The windows are closed,
The lights are off,
My mind and I are all I´ve got.

My friends are there,
nowhere to be found,
and I am here
all alone.

I wish I could,
reach out and feel
the love for you
I always craved.

But all I have,
and all I know,
is the way
the bottles
stir up my soul.

I missed you once,
I missed you twice,
Then I drank,
Forgot at once.

I knew there was more,
and I opened the door,
you entered with pride,
but I was alive.
relahxe Mar 31
In the fridge
There sits the bottle of Joy
Every Thursday She becomes my friend
Every Friday Her and I fight

In the drawer
There sits the bottle of Pain
I try to keep it away
But every Saturday
I find it open

In the bin
There sits the bottle of Regret
With its deafening yells
Every Sunday morning

Three Drinks and I are friends
And then we fight
And then we make up again.
David Hilburn Mar 28
Slow Joe
Have a heaven, the order, to sulk?
With the ought, a handsome moment
Considered an angel's heed, will we ever fall?

Avid as salt is, we are owed...
A pace of might, the times are real, to sigh's
Stirring a house for a flower, sincerity is our force?

Our salvation of promises, still a world
We made, with an overt harmony
Two of unity, one of vanity, and none blessing courage
With the muse we made, simplicity with legend, only?

Tired eyes, that came with life...
Saying if not saving, a chance meeting
With bared integrity, a fire striving
To be, the coming choice, of a worth's meaning?

The world owed, the world loved
Cares of omnipotence, fate to understate purpose
Passion is but a wish away, from a covenant's some
Promises found to be, a climate for what heaven knows...
neth jones Mar 13
my mouth hung like an overwhelmed option                        
             i swivel at the window facing
            and stay out the entire day      in this one gawked position
  amazing heat      and an ugg shy of thought                          
    withdrawn     in a mut of mental paralysis
                               by an alcoholic system
                                       on a day off

the day dunks into the eve before i shift any movement
    having sifted the ull                                       
i mix a jar of *** and orange juice
  in the open fridge door

an age dying filter feeder
unk-ing out of brain
May the Angels get their share,
And the Devils get their due,
and what's left in the barrel is made for me and you.
God bless the Brewers too.
Michael Robert Triska Copyright 2024
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