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A shot of feeling,
A dram from your soul and mind,
Short and sweet, refined.
Lee Jul 19
Hunger pangs, keep scrolling
The acids make me suffer
Whether you enjoy men or women
You need to drink the buffer
Based on something a friend always says
Peter Balkus Jul 10
Let them drink this blood
from the river of your body.

This river is endless,
it's only you who is scared of drowning.

Let them **** the thirst,
don't you know how it feels to be thirsty?

Let them take what it's theirs,
don't be too ****** selfish.
Rain Jun 30
Run
Always chasing distraction,
Running to keep ahead.
Always to my next action,
My thoughts I still dread.

Studying till I can not,
And then wanting to get drunk.
Thoughts disappear shot by shot,
So I won’t get in a funk.

My feet start to tire,
I sit and breathe.
The thoughts consume me like fire,
Blazing and burning through me.

I try and get up fast,
To escape my own thoughts.
To avoid my harsh past,
But they keep up their taunts.
CE Uptain Jun 28
It’s just another lonely night, I'm sure I'll have a drink or two
I'll spend the night, killing off the hours, wishing I had you
It won't take long, I'll be crying, sad songs do me that way
I'll sing along the best I can, when it’s over, I'll have one more to play

I can't get enough to drink, all my songs are sad
I can't quit crying over all the good times we had
Remember when we were so young and free
How could we ever forget about you and me

When I've played my last sad song, I stagger off to bed
I will have you in my arms again, at least inside my head
The sheets are cold without you there, to keep me warm tonight
But I can dream about you now, until the morning light

Dreams are all I have, since I don't have you
Dreams are all I need, someday they'll come true
Dreams will get me through the night again
Dreams will keep me going until then
From my drinking poems volume 2. Bottoms up!
Márk V Jun 6
Drink your beer, I don’t need that,
I need something else, a bit bigger bottle.
Not the yellowish kind, invisible,
or bitter-smelling drink I want,
I need a red drink, one
as red as raspberries.
Or perhaps blood-colored? Because
blood is life.
Maybe if I drink more,
it will give me life, too.

Ask nicely,
maybe I’ll offer you a cup.
If you can explain its meaning,
the whole bottle is yours, but
break it in half, so we share it.
You understand it like I do, that's why you deserve it.
If it tastes strange, drink it slowly,
if your throat's not used to it, endure it,
you’ll get used to it,
your state of mind will help you.

Maybe it intoxicates, but it gives strength,
right?
The others don’t do that,
otherwise every tavern would be full.
Its effect's eternal,
but helpful.
Its size surpasses the rest,
dominance, like from man.
Were you made by the gods?
Is that why your taste's so special?
rick May 8
“I look at you,” he told me, “and I think to myself; now here’s a guy whose got it all: he’s over fed, has a nice watch on his wrist and his shoes, although not my style, are brand new. The only thing he doesn’t have are troubles and worries.”

“bartender,” I shouted, “I’ll take one more and the tab.”

“hey man what about me,” he asked, “mind topping me off?”

“and another one for the poor sap next to me.”

“you see what I mean,” he continued. “you can afford to buy drinks for yourself and for others. as for myself, they forced me into a war I didn’t support and I also got my *** shot off for a cause unknown. I was stripped of my emotions, gutted from my life, they sodomized my psyche, carved the dream out of my head and I was never given a chance at having children or a future. and all this happened before I ever held a beer or tasted a cigarette or had a woman in my bed.”

I didn’t bother responding
in hopes that he’d get the hint
but as expected, he was as
clueless as my ex-wife
and as he carried on
with relentless persistency
each word dug in like a cat scratch
and all I could do was clench my glass tighter and tighter to contain myself.

“I’ve been spit on, kicked out, beat up and let down,” he further continued. “the streets are hard and unkind and everywhere you go you’re unwanted and everything is locked. why do you think I pour into these bars late at night? to drink? naw man, I just need a place to go, a roof over my head you know?”

that was it.
I had enough.

I finished my drink,
got off the stool
and headed toward the exit.

“hey buddy,” he shouted, “can I get another one for the road?”

“no.”

“just one more?”

“NO!” I screamed.

“c’mon man, you’ve got everything and I’ve got nothing. what makes you better than anyone else?”

“now look here you bumbling idiot…”

“but…but…but…” he interrupted.

“I’ve heard your tales of woe and now you’re going to listen to me,” I said sternly. “I look overfed because of poor diet and lack of exercise caused by working 60-80 hours a week with no time to take care of myself. I have a nice watch and new shoes but it came with a price. I’ve traded in my freedom for comfort, my time for materials and any chance of love for success. you say I have everything and you have nothing? I say you’re wrong. you’ve got something I no longer possess and that my friend is soul. don’t lose that. don’t buy into the mold. don’t conform. don’t become like everyone else. most of the people you see in here have imprisoned themselves into their own personal hell. that’s the way society wants it. but you’re free. truly free. and another thing… don’t worry about sorrow. everyone’s got problems and nobody wants to hear about it. why do you think people are in here? for the enjoyment? no, there here to forget. just. like. you.”

“******* *******! I don’t need a lecture from you or your cheap advice. all I need is a ******* drink!”

…and with that,
I walked out into the
dark and empty streets
where they greeted me
with their silence.
Happened a long time ago, in a bar, somewhere down in New Orleans.
Artis May 3
My heart—frozen still,
searching for the will
to forget you.

The alcohol takes its course.
Tears slide down my cheeks
as I try,
fail,
try again
to forget you.

Was my love real?
Or just something to play with—
fooled by the warmth,
cut by your words,
sharp as paper.

You made my heart ache.
Still, I stayed.
Now you just make the alcohol
taste sweeter—
and the night colder—
with every sip.

It's okay,
the drink—
is the love I need for the night.

Our favorite song—
all I can hear
is us singing it
with our whole hearts.

Was it love,
or just—
need?

Every memory in my head—
crumbles.
'Cause all I have now is this bottle
to pour my tears into—
to remember every lie,
you shakily whispered,
in my ears, holding hands.

Now you're gone.
All I have left
is the drink—
we used to share.
💔 Inspired by the legendary Jeff Buckley.
MetaVerse Feb 28
There once was a man from Zumbrota
Who'd **** down a 2-liter soda,
     Then burp up a symphony
     By Beethoven winsomely,
From the first bar to the end of the coda.
Tom Lefort Feb 8
Drop by drop, the measured melancholy,
Downing secrets from the past.

Tick by tock, each treasured nobody,
Their heartbeats beaten fast.

Hurt by hurt, each regret I will ever own,
My scattered promises, a broken trust.

Death by death, the full stop comes to pass,
Leaving empty spaces upon our paths.

Life by life, such are my memories lost in time,
Those precious moments never meant to last.

Tom Lefort 2025
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