#liqueur - Hello Poetry

Je lape les laves vertes et jaunes de ma flamme jumelle Comme si ce n'était qu'élixir végétal de chartreuse Je bois, je me désaltère Je me sers, je me ressers Je répète le cocktail sans fin Pure, on the rocks, Deux doses de verte, une dose de jaune Et vice versa Histoire de bien sentir en bouche Les cent trente saveurs sacrées De cette liqueur en transe Qui dévale du volcan réveillé qui dégorge. Ma langue plonge et pêche en apnée Dans les profondeurs de la roche mère Des cris muets en fusion qui giclent en poissons étincelants Comme des fumerolles des cratères. J 'étanche, moine liquoriste, Autant que faire se peut, La soif perpétuelle De cet élixir de vie Qu 'une fois lapé J 'avale et engloutis Malgré la canicule Malgré mes voeux d'abstinence Malgré moi.

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Aug 21, 2019

Aug 21, 2019 at 2:12 AM UTC

cyclone-wolfok-baltimore

Je lape les laves

Je lape les laves vertes et jaunes de ma flamme jumelle Comme si ce n'était qu'élixir végétal de chartreuse Je bois, je me désaltère Je me sers, je me ressers Je répète le cocktail sans fin Pure, on the rocks, Deux doses de verte, une dose de jaune Et vice versa Histoire de bien sentir en bouche Les cent trente saveurs sacrées De cette liqueur en transe Qui dévale du volcan réveillé qui dégorge. Ma langue plonge et pêche en apnée Dans les profondeurs de la roche mère Des cris muets en fusion qui giclent en poissons étincelants Comme des fumerolles des cratères. J 'étanche, moine liquoriste, Autant que faire se peut, La soif perpétuelle De cet élixir de vie Qu 'une fois lapé J 'avale et engloutis Malgré la canicule Malgré mes voeux d'abstinence Malgré moi.

25

He's cherry liqueur, keeps his cards face-down, sweet enough to be a sweet but still a little bit sour. Deep, dark thinker but not one to wear a frown and so he puts me in my place from the inside out.

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Jun 15, 2018

Jun 15, 2018 at 3:54 AM UTC

zarab

sweet tooth

He's cherry liqueur, keeps his cards face-down, sweet enough to be a sweet but still a little bit sour. Deep, dark thinker but not one to wear a frown and so he puts me in my place from the inside out.

8

How hard could it be To turnover a new leaf Get a new lease Watch and just feel it As another leaves Stealing off with my sanity Well I blame idiocy From the ruins we flea Like falling leaves Trailing the wind Into the swells of the sea Like little me Huddled beneath Frayed velvet cushions Making out with hard liqueur Smooth as your words Burning me like your lips Tongues slipping easily Through sour teeth Sharp as blades You cut me open With nothing but a kiss

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May 11, 2018

May 11, 2018 at 5:19 AM UTC

Cheshire_Leia

Slip-up

How hard could it be To turnover a new leaf Get a new lease Watch and just feel it As another leaves Stealing off with my sanity Well I blame idiocy From the ruins we flea Like falling leaves Trailing the wind Into the swells of the sea Like little me Huddled beneath Frayed velvet cushions Making out with hard liqueur Smooth as your words Burning me like your lips Tongues slipping easily Through sour teeth Sharp as blades You cut me open With nothing but a kiss

22

It starts as a way to forget, No not to forget, just numb. It starts as a way to numb, The splintered glass deep inside my chest The first few drinks bring peace No they feign it, illusions As it poisons my body and mind The whiskey coils around my heart As it constricts I feel the pain And anger I tried to escape. I pour another glass hoping For the illusion to persist. Desperate now I put the bottle to my lips And as the liqueur flows into my blood The words flow from me into my pen Expelling the pain, expelling the cardio-wounds I trade pain for poison The bottle's dry I lay my head down ease myself back And wonder if I wrote this poem or if it belongs to J. W. Black

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Feb 22, 2016

Feb 22, 2016 at 2:33 PM UTC

zane-mcharris

Drunken Poetry

It starts as a way to forget, No not to forget, just numb. It starts as a way to numb, The splintered glass deep inside my chest The first few drinks bring peace No they feign it, illusions As it poisons my body and mind The whiskey coils around my heart As it constricts I feel the pain And anger I tried to escape. I pour another glass hoping For the illusion to persist. Desperate now I put the bottle to my lips And as the liqueur flows into my blood The words flow from me into my pen Expelling the pain, expelling the cardio-wounds I trade pain for poison The bottle's dry I lay my head down ease myself back And wonder if I wrote this poem or if it belongs to J. W. Black

20

... ... ... you never saw me finding comfort in liqueur nicotine and your empty promises a walking hurricane vengeance and fury my niche love was weakness the things brewing under ruthless sphere's of words piercing you like a crack of lightning never knew you feared thunder my pretense till my skies turned grey a color you created i became the storm your fears your torrent of bad dreams

0

Apr 3, 2015

Apr 3, 2015 at 2:52 AM UTC

Cheshire_Leia

Ambushed

... ... ... you never saw me finding comfort in liqueur nicotine and your empty promises a walking hurricane vengeance and fury my niche love was weakness the things brewing under ruthless sphere's of words piercing you like a crack of lightning never knew you feared thunder my pretense till my skies turned grey a color you created i became the storm your fears your torrent of bad dreams

24