Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
The choking vines of the wine yard,
Wrap around the souls of the somber.
Staring off into space,
While a chemical feeling seals their fate.

Do they feel happy yet?
Something more than the happiness they lost,
Was it right, to push love away?

In replacement they have a craving,
A welcomed feeling of demanding.
Their kisses curdle into bites,
Ripping chunks out of who they love,
Tearing holes into their head.
Many of my family suffers from this, at least some have the dignity to admit it.
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?
like the corks from all the wine we've once shared
i have collected our memories in a glass jar
and couldn't even bear to hold it in my hands
in case i drop it by chance and it shatters apart
so instead, i left it to gather dust in the corner of my heart

with our memories that poured into our wine glasses
just like the rain that fell upon us as we kissed each other
under those streetlights where i would run into your arms
as if it were the first time i saw you turning the same corner
ever since you showed up at my door that one night in october

with a bottle in your hands you stole from work for us
later we found ourselves dancing to Strangers in the Night
at two in the morning while looking at each other's eyes
maybe love really was just a warm embracing dance away
yet for three years, you kept spinning me around every day

just like the ferris wheel you once took me by surprise
where we watched the sunset with my head on your shoulder
for a second i wished we could stay in that moment forever
with the red wine we had at Mont des Arts still on your lips
instead of the aftertaste of someone else behind each kiss
I’ve drunk enough—
don’t fill my glass again.
All you’ve ever offered,
I’ve gulped down to the grain.
Pleasure’s senses never sate;
for me, they’re just a stain.

I have this body like all others,
a hungry dog
that waits beneath the table
and eats all that falls from it.

Did no one warn you?
Never feed the dog at dinner.
Do it, and he’ll haunt your chair—
whimpering and begging for another taste.

Can’t you see the feast is laid?
Silver platters, crystal bright!
You’re the guest who’s free to taste,
to drink the banquet’s blinding white.

Is it the dog who gets the scraps,
does not care and all devours?
—Exactly!— and once he's finished,
he'll come begging, craving more.

Don’t blame the dog when he invades
your sacred feast.
You shout, you punish his demands,
yet you fed this beast.

Now discern. Divide. Rearrange.
Let each thing keep its name.
The dog in the dog’s domain.
The master at his plate.
All my poems are related with the music I compose and perform. Piano solo, modern classical/jazz style. I will provide more information when I make a good recording. My work try to explain my life philosophy. Philosophy that first are acts, and then I try to explain with music and words.
TheLees May 4
She filled my silent cup with
bubbling crackling pops of laughter
Wine I couldn’t put down
drank to the lees
felt it seep into my blood
spun my world
knocked the lights out

One sip led to a pint
then I tapped the keg

When the barrel ran dry
I thought we’d brew more
but she took my glass
and tossed it
Crystal daggers
glint on the floor

The constellation on the concrete
reminded me of a night under the stars
when you said we’d name our dog Sam
and our kid would laugh like me

I should have drunk more slowly

When she left I lay supine
at the bottom
The vision of our child floats
face-down in the barrel
I drain into the wine
the blood mixes
I’ll fill the barrel by myself with me.
Traveler Apr 29
Stop on by tonight we’re going to talk about the Bible and have some red wine.
Okay, we don’t have to talk.
A drink of Jesus will be just fine!
TT
Dedicated to
My friend
South-by-Southwest

Showing love is better then talk!
LoReLy Apr 14
Adrift in shadows, hollowed by the night,
Yet gratitude still flickers, frail but bright—
A thirst for dawn, though weighed by whispered sorrow,
We clutch the fraying thread of tomorrow.

The ache of absence hums, a silent hymn,
Melancholy’s wine pools to the brim.
But in these ruins, treasures softly gleam:
A map of scars where longing dared to dream.

Our story trembles, ink on splintered wood,
Yet pulses warm where hopelessness once stood.
The thread, though thin, spills gold through vacant air—
A silken ladder climbing despair.

We’ll stitch the rift where darkness bleeds to blue,
And weave the tale our hunger dares renew—
For even fractured light still claims the skies,
And dawn persists in tired, stubborn eyes.
Maria Mar 31
You asked me: "May be it's love?"
I didn't know, what to say.
If it's dark without you every time.
So I can't even see myself anyway.

If wine is water without you!
If the air around is more bitter than poison!
If I'm not me without you!
Every day less of you I feel like an old some.

Every my step is a step into hollow.
No forward or backward, into an abyss.
I'm empty, I'm nobody without you!
And every my next step will be amiss!

‘May be it's love?’ - you asked me again.
I realize that I'm lost at all.
I don't breathe, I don't live without you,
And the Universe is tiny for me in whole!
I really want to introduce you one more my poem about love. I like to write about love. Although it is probably more correct to say that I love to live by love, with love, inside and around me.
Thank you for reading! 💖
Jia En Mar 22
You can't pour wine from an empty
Bottle, the pop-up ad tells me.
I laugh. I laugh as the cracks
At its bottom cut into
My palm; I pour you
Another glass. It's all red anyway.
Who cares what that AI has to say.
ads. ads for therapy; ads to remind me to be positive; ads that know i need help but can't offer it.
Nobody likes a winer,
But they all like wine.
Unfortunately every sip,
Brings out one more complaint,
Till I'm sitting with a bunch of hypocrites.
Every gathering they say the same thing, "no wining!" to all the little kids. But the minute the drinks come out
Next page