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There once was a illness from China
That spread through contact and saliva
Now we drink way too much
And stay inside to avoid touch
I’ll be a drunk at the end of this virus
I got challenged to write a limerick about the virus. Cranked this out in like six minutes so the rhymes aren’t exact. Still thought it was funny
hiraeth Apr 24
i've barely even grown up
hardly old enough to drink

still this liquor smells bitter
as i pour it down the sink

i've lost everything now
only been sober a week

i think of my words now
before i decide to speak

these bruises have healed
with the cut on my cheek

not sure where they came from
i still can't seem to think

my eyes keep dripping
like a sink with a leak

i can't hold back these tears
no matter how much i blink

all i want is to turn to
that smooth amber drink
Joshua Notah Apr 18
Sad days lie in wait
It's on those days that I create
A symphony of "what ifs" inside my mind
Like time can be turned back as easy
As it is on the watch on my wrist

Calculations of consequences come easy
When those consequences have been had
Past decisions determined to be detrimental
But they do not define who I am

Depression hits like bird **** on my shoulder
Random and a nuisance
Much like the burden of my drinking
Thinking things would change with the change
I spent on the Dark Eyes staring back at me

Connection to my feelings turned to self-reflection
Work that seemed pointless now brings satisfaction
Active participation helps me avoid temptation
Watching the seconds tick away deep in contemplation
Joshua Notah Apr 18
I remember the little bottles
All lined up neatly on the floor next to me
Waiting to feel my hands around the cap
The little "crack" as the seal is broken

The room temperature liquid slowly emptied
Rushing down and giving warmth to my belly
False sense of numbness rising to my lips
Believing all the pain is gone

One after another, each little bottle giving it's life
The numbness turns to darkness...lights out
I awake to realize that nothing has changed
The pain I thought I chased away returns

The cycle repeats itself, pain grows stronger
Numbness is not easily attained, chased with more
Darkness is all I wish for, permanent like a sharpie
Sadness turns to rage, rage to shame

Fog sets all around my world
The darkness spreads, so much darkness
Shame turns to regret, regret to change
28 days cracking my skull to find the spark

The spark becomes an ember, glowing
Therapy and a hard look in the mirror provide the oxygen
It turns into a small flame, the light
The light pushes out the darkness

Fog rises up and becomes clouds on a sunny day
I see it all clearly now, life anew
The pain doesn't go away but is managed
Hard work, perseverance, honesty are my new friends

A Yukon Boy,
Becomes a Sober Man
Joshua Notah Apr 21
My Tuesday Night Fright
Dealing with self infliction
Concludes with prayer
A haiku about the meetings I am missing during this quarantine
Often, when I'm on the
streets, decaying in *****-
degradation of the soul,
I go under the bridge and watch
the ducks.
Sometimes I talk to them.
They don't talk back.
Some days, it's the only
beauty I can see.
I think and dream of
a different world.
A land without
brutal lunacy.
I can handle madness.
It's the wicked,
smiling hatred that I
can do without.
The Iowa River beckons
me to come swim-
float blissfully to heaven.
But I know better.
Katie and Perry drowned not
far from where I sat.
It's usually at this time that
I'm fresh out of bread for
the ducks and I have milked the *****
bottle for all it's worth, that a
warm blanket of a thought comes to
me- I need help- go to the hospital.
I stumble my way there,
sometimes by ambulance.
I go through nightmarish withdrawals.
At around the third day, I get a
laptop from the patient library.
I catch up with neglected family
and friends, then I try to write.
The first four days, my mind is
like a smashed snail.
But usually, the magic comes back.
The muse kisses me gently, and I
put the shaking pen to the paper.
I can order whatever food I
want between 6am and 8pm.
I discovered years ago that they
have phenomenal cheesecake.
So when I'm able to eat, it's the
first thing I order.
My withdrawals are deadly.
Diastolic blood pressure
numbers like 103,109.113.
So they give me Ativan.
It helps tremendously- Ativan and cheesecake.
**** the muse's ****, then more
Ativan and cheesecake.
If I'm lucky, I'll turn out a
poem or two-like this one right now.
Utahi Kamu Apr 16
He begs me to let him abuse himself
Until he realizes it ain’t fix itself


He ain’t getting there yet
He ain’t letting me bet on a life together
He ain’t getting us set


Play your A-game on a lame day
Even if you feel taken for granted
You deserve your best self my darling
Even if he doesn’t.

That tight grab you feel in your heart when he turns into
a no man
He swears on his ***** to snooze you as well

Grab that grabs your heart
Let it be your saver
Give it a tight handshake
Pretend you are making it
Present your best face outfit
Play it baby play hard
Until your heart grows out of it.


Here we go again.
Angela Rose Apr 15
After all, shots of straight ***** taste better than the thought of you and her
I deserve to be more than sexualized
Maegan deme Mar 29
Eyes are bloodshot staring at the alcoholic LEDs,
It would be impossible to rip them off of
The angelic glaze slathered on the screen.
Tears streaming on a face fixed for a permanent smile.
Can’t scream, not s’pposed to.
The eyes are taking in sips of wood alcohol
Littered with food coloring to make it seem like bourbon.
They know it’s not,
The burns all the same.
Eyes sleepless and fried while the screen fries itself.
Maybe it's time to shut them
i spend too much time on my computer lol
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