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Robert Ronnow Nov 15
I’ve seen it myself sometimes.
Shooting pool with a Marine I liked, a buddy.
He’s drunk. Always had a ***** problem
and women had disappointed him,
no more than any other man.
Anyway, the only gal in the unit, honest, hard working,
blonde comes into the room. We all
wanted her
I’d shown her my poems, which she’d taken a pass on.

Joe starts teasing her about her tiny ****,
touching them with his cue.
She’s scared. So am I.
Joe’s stronger, faster than me, by a lot, and when he’s drunk
he knows no friend.
How long can I stay silent, I calculate.
What does he have to do before I speak. Speech, none.
If I don’t put him down with the first crack of my cue, I’m done.

Lucky for me she gets away
unharmed, goes back to her room.
I think Joe assumed me and the other guys, by our nervous smiles,
would enjoy a **** tonight.
Men are such chickens,
I can’t speak for women.
You basically hold your breath
your whole life.
Live in a zoo
**** and *****.
And if it comes to that, you’ll ****
on orders, from who?
Another swinging ****
who fears his death.
You’ve got to make every day a good day to die.
vanessa marie Sep 23
tonight you yelled
screamed til i felt shame
but i know what i want
and i am not to blame
you may claim that you stopped
and you did it for her
but you're no better than him
just because "your nights are a blur"
vanessa marie Sep 20
im drunk.
high on god knows what
with the whole world spinning like a top
its even worse when my eyes are shut

but its worth the sickness
for the slight reprieve
needed a break from reality
where i can pretend you didn't leave
eugenisms Jul 31
I get drunk on your memories
Like rhum, bittersweet
You lips taste like morning hangovers
But still
I couldn't quit
neth jones Jun 28
Man enters the tavern                            
Claps down some cash and outbursts ;
                                                       'Thirsty Things Firstly !'
The barman evaluates his condition      
And provides a session brew

Man tilts toward potential company
(a ferrety bloke in the shadows)
"Pull up that stack of milk crates        
                 And halve a heart with me"
(he earns a quick friend                      
                         in a tolerant stranger)

Soon fellow gaspers fill out the gloom
And an eve of humour descends
Though soon upending
Gourds downed the gullet
Sunk ugly into the scene
The tippling wit drags the night
              to the Slurry Pit

things turn Psychologically Rugged
his Mates soon round on him
bulldozing at the Elbows
saying he's a Cheapskate
they Berate him with rigorous Rattleprat
he's been goated with the Cain's mark
they tousle his crown malicious
Thorough in his cups and eaves
he mumbles and leaves
heaving up bile words

outside is dark and harsh
Outside the whole wild world does wail and weary
he sings to match its melancholy
but sadness lifts with his altered view
he sees 'a flock of moons' weigh down the sky
and natures churn                                    
                     makes a phosphorescent stew of it all
... decay                        
                 to lifes' celebration
'to see a flock of moons' is an old saying meaning drunk


decay to life (first part)

the scentless winter over
snow melts            
evacuates into the ground                        
                   under Spings attention

Springs arrival elevates mood
alleviates the heart halved by Winter

our strained eyes are relieved
                                  with the dismissal
of reflective snows

'thirsty things firstly' ;
from the groundswell and sponge
the air is steeped with earth ;
decay to life
Kassan Jahmal Jun 24
Wasted sober thoughts, prays the hardest without
picking a religion. Sounds as a Muslim, playing Christian.
But just a name; as their friends were pointing and teasing.
All the good days you claim; aren't the ones for the missing.

Wasted sober thoughts, made myself out of made up
thoughts. Make yourself a hero, just to save your worth.
A cape on too tight; squeezing the air out of my neck,
as my delusional depressions is still the only threat.
Bags under my eyes; not tiredness, but all the luggage of
my greatest regrets.

Wasted sober thoughts, my pain is a word I can't explain,
down under like the lowest writes. I must be sad again.
Swept under my head, deeply thinking into my grave.
And I express them well, when I'm feeling a strike of brave.

When I’ve got my fill of wasted sober thoughts,
intoxication to be expressing my unread words.
Do you read me or not; copy or roger this lot?
It's of no fault of your own, just a poem I've written
out of my lows. I'm intoxicated by words.
snipes May 31
I fall too deep in the sleep
Veer off too much I hear beeps
My alignment is slighted
All these other lights
Shine in my eyes so bright
Idolization has me in idles
I still sly to the left of my
Gin stirring in cupholders
Killing all the evil grins outward
The innards are in narratives of the lost road
As I’m throwing it all out the window
Eyes gleaming off on what’s shielded the heart
Imitation of immortalized well beings
and if I’s
Steering the questionable mind
My direction is reckless
They call me by my meaning
They call me on my time
The answers are worth being
Alive on an unknown road
Named after the lost of scopes
The road in front of me
Oh how beautifully constructed
The road in front of me
Oh how purposely corroded
Nicole Apr 28
Kiss me when you're sober
I'm not the one in your head
If it weren't for the boozes
I wouldn't have tasted your lips

I've never smoked a cigarette
but I felt like I did,
for a hundred times now
this still feels different

Next time I wish you would
Kiss me when you're drunk
A taste you'd never stop chasing
Though high of ardent spirits
I wish you'd call out my name
leechyna Apr 24
"What's your flex😳😳??"
"What's your flex😣??"
He repeats
All my life
I was a wanderer
Here and there
Money was my thing
Girls were my co-living thing

But I saved 4 people with my clumsy love
The door opens☺️☺️☺️
Go home
Go save others with love
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