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Brumous Jun 2021
If one can be drunk on love,
I'd rather stay sober
than having headaches
and the wretched pain
of a hangover.
I don't drink, alright.

edit: I changed hungover to "hangover," it was surely a typo since I needed to copy then paste it because the 502 thingies kept happening
Kora Sani Apr 2021
thin lines
uneven eyes
white lies
in summertime
drinks in that old bar
honest words won’t get us far
two rounds
and then a third
stumbling on our every word
blissful nightfall
scolding time
the thief of memory
hands intertwine
still remains
a void to fill
a few steps closer
i hope you will
Payton Hayes Mar 2021
He comes, she goes, no one every really sticks around much.
It rains, the sun bares its face, the clouds come back to steal it’s thunder.
Nothing is ever set in stone
Well, except for maybe human bones and Founding Fathers.

This is a poem I quickly threw together after I heard the line “Since when did my apartment become your watering hole of choice?” —Dan Humphery, Gossip Girl, S2:E22, 21:45-21:40. The last two lines are a play on Mount Rushmore and the setting, Founding Fathers, a bar that often appears in the hit TV Drama, Bones. In the show, Dr. Temperance Brennan, Agent Booth, and their friends often meet at FF for drinks after work. The poem is basically saying, “Nothing is certain, except alcohol and my favorite watering hole.”
This poem was written in 2020.
Maria Etre Dec 2020
They told me to battle my demons
so my angels can make a presence.
Is this true?

They told me to settle
so my age doesn't leave me alone
Is this true?

They told me to value myself
so my perceivers value me.
Is this true?

They told me to love responsibly
so the right lover shows up.
Is this true?
Save My Soul
Michael Brogan May 2020
You're a demise.

You don't know that. You're syrup that means so much.

I don't love you,

As a matter of fact I really ******* hate you,

but I need you.

That's right. I need you.
I'm a coward without you. I depend on you.

One day I won't. I hope one day I won't. But until then, I'm at your beck and call.
Carlo C Gomez Mar 2020
An hour of flower power
Will bring back the sun
Beat the heat in an old time treat
By taking turns sipping
With a loved one
Inspired by a comment from fellow HP writer "B."
Nicholas Feb 2020
I’m singing my tune
cause it’s a great afternoon.
All these bad thoughts have me immune
so let’s blow up a balloon
and live like we’re in a cartoon.

There’s no time for a prune,
let’s have a big commune
at least the size of a platoon
and take ourselves to a nice saloon.
from there we’ll hit the lagoon
then maybe chill by the dune
where I just might swoon
from thinking this is too good to be true.
a day of love
but spent it alone
saw you in a corner
but not on your own

beer in hand
big smiles and laughs
introduced by a friend
who knew we would cross paths?

conversations flowing
staring at each other's eyes
a smile like yours
caught me by surprise

left you for a while
and went for a dance
came back, you were gone
i've missed my chance

alone in a full room
thinking if we'll ever meet again
'twas short but magical
till then...
in that hour of meeting you, i fell for our conversation
Łëïçkî Jan 2020
Blanket nights and water bottles filled with stolen whiskey from my parents cabinets.
Laying swamped on the docks,
Swaying to my high.
Praying bright lights don't catch me,
Asking the boy next to me for one more kiss.
I grate like sand between your teeth.
I'll drag you into this black water.
summer nights
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