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Hg 4d
taking shots
            from a test tube
spinning like
            a centrifuge
feeling blue
            in every hue
hello gorgeous
            who are you
every week is
            working toward
another drink
            another girl
every morning’s
            throwing up
in the bathroom
            all alone
siinli Dec 2018
I burned our
old photographs,
it fell down
like dried leaves
in the autumn
The classic
gallery of our
love that was
once fascinating
became a
tedious one
The once white
walls and
clean corners
Are now dusty
and dark
The perfectly
carved frames,
and perfect
shots
became dull
and lifeless
You left me
knowing that
I won't survive
alone inside this
***** walls
Picture me
in your mind
And you'll see
the saddest photo
there will ever be
siin.li
Amanda Nov 2018
She
Counts
Her shots
With sharpie
On her arm, tick tick
The alcohol swirls inside her.
It can **** you, you know that, if you keep taking them.

She
Waits,
Ignores.
Breathes in smoke.
The substances coursing
Through her veins. The two, a yin-yang
Teasing each other, now giving balance to her world.

Feel
Your
Burning
Cheeks flushing
Under the dim lights.
Are you still counting them tonight?
What are you trying to escape from? Him? Or yourself?
Elizabeth Selmi Mar 2018
Never ever  I told myself 2 years ago
Never I said to myself 1 year ago
Not happening I told myself 6 months ago
But it happened 3 months ago
And i could always go for more when the opportunity is there
Swallow my nights memories to forget
Waking up remembering a headache
Not this time I said last week
But now this is all I will probably ever seek
Alcohol
A drink that can ****
One shot at a time
trf Feb 2018
MY build to suit mind is designed for disappointing,
a warehouse space of dim lights, taunted by an l.e.d. retrofit,
TREPIDATIOUS, unable to sign my life's lease to own,
YEARS spoiled like produce, a dumpster gratefully digests.
I was 7, a little league southpaw, my arm, accurate on the mound.
PRACTICE of carelessly skipping stones over invulnerable ponds.
that day, the equation was misaligned, numbers squared roots and
CAUSED the answer to spawn seismic ripples of infinite affects.
it was the split second that was carelessly skipped and
THIS boy's vulnerable retina, the invulnerable pond.
although I was the expert marksman, I begged William not to Tell,
SO he blindly obliged my apple-shot withdraw request,
NOW spoiled produce my dumpster won't gratefully digest.
WHAT i regret most is not saying, William. Tell.
my trepidatious years I practice caused this so now what
Jessie Schwartz Feb 2018
The Game…by Jessie 4/06


Jessie was a quick draw; Learned when he was young
Swore he’d never fear a man, first he’d touched a gun
Made his name, by the age of twelve
After shooting two old men
One of them his father
The other just for grins
Every time he shot a man
Another notch, was on his belt
Swift and deadly vengeance
The quick draw Jessie dealt
At sixteen, his gun for hire
Money did he make
Town to town he traveled
Dead bodies in his wake
At twenty two his name, was on every gunmen’s lips
They tracked down Jessie, relentlessly
Guns tied low on all their hips
Knowing if they killed him
His reputation theirs
Jessie faced them one by one
Come and **** me if you dare
By thirty-three, he grew weary
Of all the blood he shed
Seeing all the faces that ****
Crowed in his head
He swore he’d never **** again
Hanging up his guns
South across the Rio Grand
To the land of the setting sun
Life had changed for Jessie
A farmer he became
Getting marred, having kids
Peace was now the game
But just because you run
Doesn’t mean that you can hide
A sixteen year old came into town
A gun hanging on his side
Are you Jessie? The boy asked
It’s time for you to die
Boy…do yourself a favor
Get on your horse and ride
I’m the fastest gun around
The boy made the claim
You killed my father years ago
To you I’ll do the same
Jessie put down his little boy
And pushed away his wife
Stepped out into the street
Then said…go ahead and take my life
I have no gun, so take your shot
You’re sure to have your ****
Seventeen years from now
You too will lose your will
Jessie words just fell
Then, an echo from a shot was heard
Time had stopped, no one had blinked
Nothing even stirred
Jessie’s son had found his gun
Soon, came running back
Stood behind the sixteen year old
And shot him in the back
A thud was heard as the boy fell
His face lay in the sand
Blood was pouring out of his mouth
Twitching from his hands
Jessie looked right at his son
He didn’t look the same
Holding out that smoking gun
Now, he too was in the game.
Star BG Jan 2018
Flu Shot

Flu shot is so very bad,
with mercury that hides
its unsafe that is for sure,
and makes you sick inside.

It is something that’s a lie.
Set up to make one ill.        
If you move without its grip,
your health will prosper still.

When you let them inject you,
with stuff you would not eat.
Glance at the list google it
You will be shocked complete.

Mercury is one substance.
A toxin to mankind.
Do not fall for all the lies,
for must you be so blind.

Read it for yourself right now.
Find the truth and stop.
Then your health will improve much.    
And then you can yes rock.

These toxins are in vaccines
their in eye drops also
Companies they do not care,
for health just monies glow.

If you are a pregnant one,
beware and do not take.
thimerosal filled vaccines do cause
you risk, unhappy fate.

People wake up to the truth.
Its time to take control.
Knowing all the dangers now
will help with health to grow.
I wish everyone woke up and stopped taking the flu shots and forced the FDA to do whats right.
Cné Dec 2017
From below
Desire climbs
Up the channels
Of my mind
Shot of whiskey
Glass of wine
Now the ladies
Are looking fine
From the top
Going down
Love strikes fast
When I'm around

From within
My idle mind
Sparks a flame
Of desire design
A shot of whiskey
A glass of wine
Now all the men
Are lookin fine
A little flirt
A little smile
I think I’ll stay
A little while
....

Traveler Tim
& Cné
Alicia Allen Nov 2017
Feeling you burning your way down my throat
The heat that you bring spreading through my blood
Slowly, slowly, rocking the boat
Your lingering scent on my breath

Let me, oh let me, drink from your lips
Getting drunk on brown liquor
Spilling all, the best secrets kept.

Don’t numb the ache
One shot down
Don’t blunt the need
Take another.

Getting drunk on Brown liquor

Bourbon, Brandy, Cognac
Straight up,
Mixed or
On the rocks.

Half seas over,
Two more fingers, Jack

Getting drunk on Brown liquor.
Problematic blockheads
make up for a
tiresome,
strenuous,
elongated
work week.
Fights and disputes
with significant others
added.
Feelings are as cold and numb
as the frozen tundra
from lack of stimulation and affection.
Vexed and frustrated
with only one outlet
to take the edge off.
Drown your sorrows
out at the nearby
hole-in-the-wall tavern
as a safe haven.
Coincidentally opened
at your convenience
for when you've hit your
lowest point.
Enter through the
neon lit beer signs
of the tap room in a
dark, damp atmosphere.
The bar keep already
knows your name.
Grab a barstool
at the u-shaped countertop,
light up a smoke,
tuck the pack in your front pocket,
order up your first pint
and take a look around
at this all-star lineup.
As the smoke clears....
it's like the city of the dead.
Necropolis for the local drunkards.
Crippled motards and disabled vets
play cards and scream of old war stories
and tell bad jokes.
Swimming in a sea of
mechanics uniforms with their names
etched upon their hearts.
Neighborhood friendly bar *****
with raspy voices.
Quenching for ****
in demeaning mannerisms.
Like a cigarette vending machine,
exchanging the poussoise
for free drinks and moloko.
Rowdy, ****-Eyed wonder boys
gather round at Sunday's mass for alcoholics and hover over pool tables
and smother dartboards.
Slipping pills in the
dead soldiers of the innocence.
All, over controlling the jukebox
with the appalling top 40 hits.
Pitcher after pitcher.
Empty and refilling their dog dishes
over and over again until they're in a
complete state of incoherence
and belligerence without pacing
and/or enjoying the simply
effects of alcohol.
Sober to blackout with
no in between.
Gilded with suds of
low budget malts.
Treated with over priced
sugary cocktails and
watered down aqua vitae
with colorful names.
You sit alone.
Head tilted back.
Drink slow.
Let it flow
as you pour the shots and drafts
down your throat with
that burning sensation aftermath.
Fueled by barley and hops.
You're catapulted into that warm,
fuzzy feeling of being buzzed
and you let it overtake you.
It may not be much but
it's all you got at the moment.
Entire paychecks blown.
Myriad of ashtrays fill up
while engaging with
preposterous claptrap conversationalists.
Muscled, mustache macho men
feel pilloried over petty and
trivial coin tricks
and have to swing their
over compensated ***** by
quickly escalating in violence
and breaking beer bottles
over the heads of Neanderthals
who are evolutionary one step behind.
Gummed by shanky old hags
in bathroom blow jobs.
Eight ball party favors
lined up for indulgence
on the seats of the scummiest toilets.
And those mirrors.....
Those ******* mirrors
behind the bar.
Every time you look into them,
only to see yourself
and your surroundings.
You are reminded of the shameful digest
and wonders of how it is,
that it all comes down to this.
Yet,
there you are,
still sipping beer through a straw.
Morning arrives,
you wake up feeling below par
and hazy.
As you gather your thoughts,
you roll over next to that
butterface haggard horrid wet spot
you avoided on the last stop
of your tour of profligacy.
Feeling ashamed of yourself
as this lifestyle hardens you.
You drink to remember.
You drink to forget.
You drink to your losses.
You drink to your gains.
You drink to celebrate.
You drink to your melancholy
and loneliness.
Either way....
you drink.
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