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" I had toasted many in my life time.
Glasses of the most expensive wines, the
exclusive champagnes, and the cheapest of
beers.
Funny. Out of all, the  beers were the most
enjoyable through my years.
I now ask myself why? It's because of the
laughter.
Sophistication was always troubling to me.
Don't get me wrong. To each is own i always
say.
Joke telling, and stories that seemed to be so
crazy, many wondered if they were true.
It was how the story was told, Some were hysterical
you had to hold you stomach with both hands
praying that it didn't split apart.
Others were so sad they brought tears to your eyes.
That's when i new i belonged, There is where i saw
love among friends.
The beer drinkers. Happy, Hardy. Without a trouble
in the world.
Where are they now?
A question that is not to be answered.
No more pat on the backs.
No more. " Hey don't forget tomorrow nights
card game at Tony's."
No more. "See ya latter's."
Just millions of us sitting at our computers, and
maybe drinking a beer.
To them i raise my mug with a toast.
"Happy to spend this time with you."
Michael....
Hollow Steve May 2018
Classy child performing his seance,
grasping whatever he can.
Not like he craves anything.
He prefers non eyes.
I call him, It.
Crazy and belligerent.
It deems to make so some changes..
Just tentacles spilling all around.
No worry.
Another sip took,
another note noted
It slips and slides and ends....
At some point.
Nevermind,
It was idiotic to begin with.
I shouldn't ever have even started..
But composure pushes me otherwise.
Poking it's eyes.
It's been a while.
Do you even see where you're going?
Not the drinkers,
only the clown..
Only the mime..
It
Patrick Austin Oct 2018
My backpack ready for anything, I left for a voyage across the pond. As fellow passengers climb aboard I met a 27 year old traveling musician named Russ carrying his cajòn. He told me of his travels from Massachusetts and pending divorce. We related on this and exchanged CD's. Behind us sitting on the Ferry were two young girls working on a puzzle. Russ imposed himself and tried to impress them with his musical endeavors. These girls were in America from Germany attending college. One was 17 and the other was 18 but I am sure they knew better than to play into his hand. After talk of language and culture we disembarked. Russ invited me to his show that night but I had plans to meet a girl at a board game pub. I walked to the bus stop while smoking my pipe and caught the number 40 from downtown to a trendy neighborhood up north.

After I stepped off I found myself amongst the overgrown players of games and drinkers of fine beer. Brittany arrived and we chatted over IPA's. I explained my recent challenges to get the topic of divorce out of the way before we left for Mexican food. She was very open in saying I should play the field and not have a serious relationship. I agreed with her take but could not read her as well as I had hoped. She said I need to get the rebounding out of the way and explained that she too is struggling with commitment. Being 34 with no marriage or children under her belt she feels that therapy is essential to figuring this out.

We walked to our happy hour destination and shared Nacho's while drinking "Colorado Kool-Aid". Both of us having spent a lot of time in Denver we could relate on much but I felt there was an elephant in the room. Afterwards we walked to a nearby record store and browsed while talking about music and interests. She needed to leave soon having obligations to housesit and watch pets. Dog walking is her profession since her departure from the world of corporate accounting. We walked to her unkempt sedan and she gave me a ride back downtown. We talked of hanging out again but our schedule may not permit for some time. I wonder if she will entertain my company without reservation, only time will tell.

I decided to phone my old friend from Denver who lives near and devise another plan for the evening. The sun was still shining and I had no reason to return home yet. I walked to a nearby brew pub while waiting for him to meet me. I sat at the bar with another traveler named Dave. He is an airline pilot close to retirement from the state of Texas. We talked about my time in the Navy and my pending legal woes. He's been proudly married for 30 years and counts his blessings that he is still in harmony with his wife. My friend decided to meet me at a concert in close proximity to my date with Brittany. Once again I would take the number 40 uptown. Dave bought my IPA and gave me words of encouragement and complimented my persona. It meant a lot and I thanked him as I said goodbye.

While waiting for the bus I asked for information from a woman in her early 50's. She works for a tech company nearby but was happy to help as I had a more pleasant vibe than most of her young, urban, unprofessional colleagues. While unsure of my way she directed my move to get off at the next stop. I walked up the hill another seven blocks to the show. While smoking my pipe along the way another bus rider was two steps ahead named Nate. He was curious about my pipe tobacco and we gave brief anecdotes about ourselves. He offered to buy me a quick beer before my concert. I took him up on this offer as we walked into a nearby market. He purchased several large cans of domestics and afterwards we headed back down the dark boulevard towards the Abbey drinking our brew. As I arrived at the former church venue we parted ways peacefully.

I ventured into the bustling scene concealing my open container while finding my friend. I sat just as the opening act started. We enjoyed three musical performances but the star of the show was the beautiful woman from Denver that we both enjoyed during our time there. Feeling that we should explore the venue where Russ was performing we made our way there. I was sad to discover the brewery was shutting down before 10pm and the band was long gone. We decided to walk to the nearby singles bar playing music so loudly it could be heard from a block away. This strange place was crawling with many folks of the beautiful sort but nothing seemed to be attractive about it. We had a glass of wine and a shot of bourbon. I spoke to the fellow DJ for a moment but there was no dancefloor to be found. We decided to venture on.

We walked up and down the avenue and discovered another Mexican food restaurant, beaming with the young and the foolish. Our community seating was met with overly affectionate couples to our left and valley girls to our right. Our Tequila mules hit the spot with our Nacho's and late night platter. The girls spoke of Denver people which I thought strange. Why so much co(lorado)-incidence in one evening? I injected myself into the discussion and was met with friendly conversation. Unable to finish my Nacho's I knew I had fulfilled my share of fun for the night. This was the fourth time I had eaten nachos this week. We proceeded back to the urban adventure wagon and made our way to the slums of the tech-boom. My 2am slumber was met with an air mattress of great quality and woolen blankets.

I awoke at 7am to the clouded sunlight peering through the sliding glass door. I laid awake with my stomach turning from the many Nachos not yet digested. My housemates called me about needing to move my car for restriping the parking lot. Fortunately I left my keys so they were able to do this for me. I smoked my pipe on the patio while my friend "hit the gym". When he returned we decided to walk through the arboretum by the university and enjoy the sunny autumn day. Afterwards he dropped me off by the ferry where I waited an hour drinking beer at the commuter dive.

During my ferry ride home I walked up and down the passenger compartment looking for a fellow rider to play cribbage. I had no such luck and headed for the observation deck. While the city vanished behind us I struck up a conversation with a young lady from Manchester who had just returned to living in the US. We talked about the nature of selfies and the conflict of living in the moment. As we spoke a man approached me who had overheard my request for a card game. We walked back inside and sat next to an abandoned puzzle with pieces scattered about the deck. Mark introduced himself and we shook hands. It was not until he shuffled and dealt the cards that I realized this 45 year old Asian man only had one arm. His ability to shuffle and deal was impressive. His skill with cribbage was more than rusty, after one game I had a victory so great I felt guilty. He too is going through divorce and seeking a new job. It was a great way to pass the time with a fellow passenger.

As I readied myself for the porting I noticed a familiar face, a young sailor I served with in Mississippi. Our time spent together was met with sorrow as we faced similar career challenges. I had not seen him for several months but he almost did not recognize me. I had lost 50 pounds, left the Navy and become single all in a matter of a few months. I assured him I was on the dawn of newfound joy and wished him luck on his upcoming deployment. I patted him on the head as he seems like such a lovable scamp to me at this point. I exited the terminal to saunter back home. I smoked my pipe while crossing the bridge enjoying the last hour of sunlight.

I settled my belongings at home while serving myself a can of chili and a cold IPA on draft from my housemates tap. I joined him for the end of a baseball game in the den and shared a few moments with my community. I slept for a couple hours and then made my way to work. So much can happen in a day.
Not poetry, but what is life, if not poetry in motion?
Ryan O'Leary May 29
C(i)ffee Beans are the
same shape as vaginas,
the reason why we men
wake up with erections.


Ps.

Tea drinkers need ******.
cassie marie Nov 2018
it's 12 am
everything is ok
the blaring of music from the parties
all the drinkers start to head home
all the loners are out at this time
wondering what would happen if they died
thinking "who would really miss me?"

It's 1 am
things are starting to kick in
the night is starting to settle down
some people are either having the times of their lives
or wondering what purpose they truly have in life
some are crying
some are laughing
some don't know what to feel.

It's 2 am
nothing is ok anymore
all the party animals have taken it down a notch
no one is out on the streets anymore
most are watching movies with their friends
others are sitting in one place,
wondering who would really miss them?
who would actually care if the died?

It's 3 am
everything has gone to ****.
you're staring at the bottle of pills
you set your razors out
you fill the tub with scalding hot water
you start to write the letters
tears stain the fragile paper as you sign them

It's 4 am
the sounds of birds chirping stopped you
it made you realize something
pain is just another reminder that you are alive
pain is a thing that makes you remember something,
you are human and you can get through this.
everyone goes through hurt
but everyday, people still carry on.

It's 5 am.
the sounds of cars driving helps you be happy
it reminds you to appreciate that you are alive
it helps drown out the voices
the voices telling you to ******* die.

It's 6 am.
the day breaks
and everything is ok again
it's a new day to start over.
look i am always here to talk and help out as best i can if you are going through something.i myself battle depression, anxiety, and ADD. and it ******* *****. but i am here for you.
Andrew Duggan Aug 2018
There’s fire outside, fire in my apartment.
Swelling in this humidity.
More uncomfortable than Vietnam.
It is not easy to hide.
Even sitting on the roof writing poems,
there is fire.

A thousand words yet to write,
a thousand words yet to write.
Thoughtful girls with their umbrellas.
Dancing dragonflies,
ascending and descending.
Like a madness of Sisyphus.

And then the sounds of this fire.
The bedroom sounds, a taste that will last forever.
The sounds of the late night Baijiu drinkers,
trying to find the garden of love.
And the unrequited who cry alone at 2a.m
Endless, embracing with a glad sadness.

That is the fire in this city.
Dev Sep 2018
My best friends dad once sat me down
to gift me with some wisdom
on why day drinkers and lonely slinkers
are filled with such depression.

He told me alcohol doesn't make you
an alcoholic, you see.
It's fine with a friend, as long as it ends
before you're lonely

See when you're alone you think bad things
cause nobody is around
your brain becomes loose due to magic juice
and you wear your thoughts like a crown.

and i barely listened as he talked
just waited till he was finished
it didnt mean much, and it wasn't such
a big deal to me

I never really listened to him,
which is probably why
she calls me a little alcopop
Ismahanwrites Jul 2018
alcohol effects on the body

1: it can change the mood and behavior
you say you are leaving the house angry spitting blood
on floor your eyes are red as trantula and you say we are too much but we are not asking  for anything
the maids are running for their lives leaving the house  because of you of your behaviors you dont care about these crimes these charges are  you? oh wait your are intoxicated

2: High blood pressure  
you replaced your morning pills your whole entire morning routine straight off you go to bar shoeless wearing the same t shirt of last week

3:Heavy drinking takes a toll on the liver
you come back your eyes are red as trantula as if you were crying you are in hurry again you are asking for food the floor is covered with spits blood spits

4:Chronic drinkers are more liable
to contract diseases like pneumonia

i wish he could
i wish he could just stop killing himself
dear dad i hope you stop this behavior
David Huggett Sep 2018
Me and the Hawk are poor poets. We also are or were somewhat hopeless drinkers. He'd get mad at me just because I liked to laugh. The bar scene was no place for mirth when Hawk had the blues.

So I show him my poem...

Full of  mirth

What is it worth
A smile that beguiles
That is worth while
Joke and laugh
Whole or half (giggle)
Can't you try to see
Better than quivery misery
Yes a belly laugh
Whole or half
Makes you feel so free.

Hawk says, "Humph." He shows me his poem as Hawk is a bit of a writer too.

The Worth Of My Birth

The worth of my birth
Means nothing to me
I have wasted time
And not done a good job
Of living & loving
It all weighs so heavy
On my tortured mind

I close with the poem EXPECTATIONS...

Expectations are the greatest things
They fool you. They rule you.
You live for the next time
To be sublime in the knowledge
You've done well
Those pitfalls that prey on your past
Will never last
If you achieve and believe
I can do this again.

Hawk and me smile and drink our drinks.
Credit to Original Just George
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