Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Phil Dodsworth Mar 2019
The wine flowed from the bottle  

as the words flowed from my pen.

It was my best ever.  

A match for the greats:  

Kipling, Thomas and Henley.

And one that my favourite, Bukowski

Would be happy to say

You matched me today.

I celebrated my masterpiece

With another glass of wine

Before going to bed, joyous

With the feeling I had created

My Magnum Opus.

In the morning I rose,

Clear headed and happy with

The memory of my creation.

I read it again.

It sounded different.  

This was not the splendid verse I recalled.

It was the ramblings of a drunken mind

Bukowski would say

Try again Man

This is a pile of crap.

Suddenly, I had a hangover.
Declan ODonohue Mar 2019
i can hear each drop of rain smack the hard concrete
hundreds of them, one after the other, i am surrounded
by them. swat the fly away from my merlot and take a sip
so many raindrops, i smell them in the air, thick and heavy
my mind wants for nothing except more wine and the company of
the one person who makes me feel
normal
accepted
exhilarated
adventurous
the wind picks up, the rain falls, i can feel the droplets in the air. the flies are persistent, they can smell the wine and it draws them closer until it kills them, and they float in it upside down in circles. i see myself
floating
upside down
in circles
watching my life slip away
as the wine drains away
it pulses with the beat
until there is no more
the flies are gone
the cup is empty
the rain falls
but there is
only silence
Tuan Do Mar 2019
A sip of wine,
I question my fate as do I the heavens,
A sip of wine,
Must a carp forever stay a carp never to ascend,
A sip of wine,
Must a tiger's soul be born as a cat,
A sip of wine,
Must a baby chick never take off into a condor,
A sip of wine,
Is the cup not but empty.
Some Clarifications - a carp in Chinese legend could jump the dragon gate and become a dragon.
Explaination - the poem is about a scholar asking why he could never become successful.  The part about the wine running out shows his outcome in a way, or another way of looking it be that even the wine is laughing at his failure.
Aaditya Mar 2019
Red
Your cherry coloured lips used to
bring the coral blush on my cheeks.
But now it boils my crimson within,
leaving my face all scarlet with rage.

You were the apple of my eye,
as precious as ruby to me.
But now, wine and water seem the same,
and jam never tastes as sweet.
What changed, dear Rose?
Why have you faded?
Tuan Do Mar 2019
The years were unforgiving,
The mind stirred from forgotten dreams,
The heart restless from distant loves.

Under the moonlight sky,
A cup of wine in hand,
A verse of poetry in ink,
The spirit is cleansed.
The setting is in ancient China, this should help with the visualization of the poem.
Mitch Prax Mar 2019
She is
a night full of darkness,
wine and solace.
PrernaK Mar 2019
We were asked
to make wine.
We made poison as well.

©ladywithpen
This earth was never given to us for building economics and trade policies, it was definitely not gifted for dividing us in borders or for politics. We have messed up big time, we did everything we were not suppose to and maybe the pandora box that we talk about is all of this.

Such beautiful places, people, minds, art. All of which is now unexplored, unknown. It was never suppose to be like this. We're cursed, cursed with limited time and no knowledge of what our purpose is. We made a commodity and we made it our need. When the need was to fall in love, to be wise, to nurture art and to grow with it. Now we need to be saved from something which is our own created monster.

Silver lining is, in all this we still have magic to save us in the end like hope was in the pandora box.

To hope, to magic and to making this world a better place.
Pyrrha Mar 2019
While we sit underneath the shadowy blanket of the night
counting stars and naming all the constellations
sipping wine and forgetting time
I can't help the jealousy that flows into me
as you get drunk off wine instead of me
how I wish I could intoxicate you with myself
It isn't until I part my eyes from those dazzling twinkling lights
that I see your gaze is on me
rather than the endless sky
Annie Mar 2019
Let me breathe
In the smoke of betrayal
One last time
Let me taste
The sweetness of your lies
Savoured, divine
I am not good at goodbyes
Neither letting go
You can’t say I haven’t tried
Lover —turning into a foe

Every day is just the same
Every night starts with tears
Who’s to blame
For all the wasted years?

You painted the picture
Put flowers in empty vase
Just to let it sink
Cursed with your evil sage
Next page