"drunkeness" poems
That moment the bass drops in a favorite song
Submerging your body from the core inside the musical trance
The first few strides in the open air after days of isolation
Open eyes opening once more as the daylight kisses them
A smile appearing where your lips were caressed by another's
Blossoming as your fingertips trace the fresh tracks of a kiss
The soothing heat that spreads through your body
Bringing a cool breeze gushing from your core within
You didn't have a drop to drink to feel this drunkeness
You sit in silence yet the music is still felt
You were never imprisoned to feel the freedom of open spaces
And your lips have been untouched for days unnumbered
But the memory is still there, fresh as the grass beneath your dreaming feet
As refreshing as the waters of a forgotten stream lightly touching your palms
Bringing a sorely missed kindred spirit back to its other life
Complete in it's entirety and clear in view
Without lacking in touch, smell or others alike
Oh love, it's real, more real than we could ever fantasize.
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 10:46 AM UTC
The color of a slightly tipsy tongue peeling my resolve from my own is that of a winter morning
-- clear and concise in its purpose,
Sending signals to my brain, which, in response,
Transmits slight shivers down my spinal cord,
Raising the fine hairs
Along my smooth skin
--the same relaxed, whispy, ***** that covers tense, terse, and trembling muscles.
The sound of a shirt being pushed
Out of the way;
The sound of pants already crumpled,
Settled,
On the carpet my mother cleans.
That sound that represents
Everything I've ever wanted from nothing
But can not accurately depict
Anything I've wanted from one thing in particular.
Because you are special and
You make me want
And
You make my body tense and
My words short and
My lips loose.
Loose so as to open and receive your secrets given
In
False
Drunkeness
--to allow your breath to absolutely fill
My lungs
As you drag me down beneath the surface
And into the dark.
We are not blind.
Our nerves spark in the darkness,
The area devoid of any light source
save for those that arise from the
friction of skin against skin
and mind against mind,
Ideas crashing and banging together
As they
Escape
From our mouths
During our futile resistance to anything logical
Or rational,
Our selves piloted by the thought of
Unfathomable numbers and equations
That led to this moment
When our bodies feel everything
And our minds feel
Nothing.
We are naked before the eye of the God neither of us believe in.
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 3:51 PM UTC
Heavens lament,
lest they find what drunkeness suits them best,
and be called happy.
Apr 22, 2019
Apr 22, 2019 at 6:52 AM UTC
Love is the sweet taste of frosting at the tip of my tongue.
That feeling as a child choosing the perfect cupcake in a plethera of many.
I open my eyes and I feel the sweetness of your lips.
Love is the cream and sugar in my coffee, so smooth.
But smoother to me.
My lover leaves it for me on my nightstand.
Love is the smell of bacon and eggs as I walk into the kitchen in my bed head hair.
You kiss the top of my head.
You make bacon seem ****
Love is wading in the water in my nakedness.
In the darkness, moon in the sky, and my moon behind me.
I feel your nakedness a foot away from me, behind me, yet we never touch.
Love is the unsaid words in the silence.
Sitting near each other in our silliness or our
Drunkeness
We are intoxicated with each other, yet we shared no wine.
Love is knowing here on earth that every breath I take,
And is exhaled,
you inhale in every pore of your skin.
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 12:56 AM UTC
On one hand,
You're seeping in
To the most delicate
And untouched parts of my soul,
On the other,
My organs inside
Are like dry rough bark
Anyone who comes near
Is sent away with scratches on their heart,
I want to feel my whole insides become wet,
capable of unconditional love,
But I fear myself.
Many men have tried
to roll like sweet honey into my heart
Once my drunkeness has worn off
Or the initial thrill has dimmed
I scrape them off like a bug from my shoe.
When you look at me it is different,
When you look,
I can feel you seeing inside my soul in a way I can't hide,
Still I try.
I have no abandonment issues,
Or low self esteem,
I am just truly and simply a bird
When I see a cage
I become concerned.
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 11:19 AM UTC
Are we but dream junkies
And all the stars that trail,
In the gloams of milky ways,
But empty islands more for us,
Golden archipelagoes, baubles
Ringing, rounding out heavens'
Wreathing, oceans, nil vastness
To fixate upon from whence we
Once were, by souls' fashioning,
Airy and unrealistic as dear fools'
Child-minded convictions, fables,
Foetal, in smoky amniotic aethers,
Wisps of matter to see unlocked,
Unchained from sparks of nothing,
Wide eyed as supernovae in voids,
As light injects into us such purpose,
Imaginations so neatly dreamed upon,
Once and for all, stories bound in sleepy
Times, or tis more our sole, sun, but one
Dim light in all these unsettled sparklings,
A tapestry which etches our righting eyes,
Into sandy itchings, spiral notches, grains
Ticking us eternal to vested lime beds waiting,
Are we sunk in drunkeness by the overheaded
Skies, fumbling about, numbed, slumbered
In soul rummages?
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 7:57 PM UTC
drunkeness echoes
soft air breathed in again
and i want nothing
Aug 6, 2023
Aug 6, 2023 at 11:12 PM UTC
Are we but dream junkies
And all the stars that trail,
In the gloams of milky ways,
But empty islands more for us,
Golden archipelagoes, baubles
Ringing, rounding out heavens'
Wreathing, oceans, nil vastness
To fixate upon from whence we
Once were, by souls' fashioning,
Airy and unrealistic as dear fools'
Child-minded convictions, fables,
Fetal, in smoky amniotic aethers,
Wisps of matter to see unlocked,
Unchained from sparks of nothing,
Wide eyed as supernovae in voids,
As light injects into us such purpose,
Imaginations so neatly dreamed upon,
Once and for all, stories bound in sleepy
Times, or tis more our sole, sun, but one
Dim light in all these unsettled sparklings,
A tapestry which etches our righting eyes,
Into sandy itchings, spiral notches, grains
Ticking us eternal to vested lime beds waiting,
Are we sunk in drunkeness by the overheaded
Skies, fumbling about, numbed,
In soul rummages?
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 5:06 PM UTC
caught! caught! caught!
lustrous bodies tampering with light on either
side
my hands suffused on my knees
my eyes closed against them
dreams about drunkeness and
rain on the back of necks
hiding places
and mouths like ribbon convulsing in september
wind.
but no sound
ever.
feverish,
silent existence.
wake up unsure of the
solid
wary of gravity.
the bodies float along
side my own
even more
animated then before
dripping with pulpy colour
overripe and smelling of death
and summer
and backalleyways as tight and hot
as a vein
and hair dipped in seawater.
i keep tricking myself
into thinking
it is about choice
and reality falls away
like a row of convicted
bodies
backed against a wall
and then it is just me
coy, faceless, constricted like a mouse with
fangs in my neck
and them, bleeding
fantasy
all
heart
all
heart
with
teeth.
Feb 1, 2010
Feb 1, 2010 at 9:30 PM UTC
Work,work,work
Look down
Clutch pen
Cry inside
Lie down
then lie to yourself
"You can turn this around."
Work harder
bound forward
mind is paper
blank
and rank.
Unheeded words,
slurred with drunkeness
of lack of sleep.
Keep going.
Who the **** needs sleep?
Who needs food?
Work through lunch
because when you munch upon food
it magically transforms to paper
Sodden in your mouth, so sour.
They are draining you of your power.
Go on, take my all.
A friend texts you
they wish for help
you try to answer
but are suppressed by your
yelp of self pity.
So you break with people
to prevent
a self exposing
litany.
Work Harder
You must.
Don't dare to trust your mind
your shell
yourself
Whatever you do
don't ask for help
You're weak
Unintellectual
and small.
So what if failed subjects
enthrall you?
That won't get you the grades
You've paid them with your all.
You're still not enough
You'll never be enough
Not tough enough to cut it
too proud/unweak to fall
You're in the midst of
a truely unbreakable brawl
Pen
Paper
Time to write the essay
now
you don't know
how
but, who cares?
Let's catch them unawares
with your ignorance.
"This play was set in florence...?"
(I think)
don't blink
Just Sink
Maybe this time, someone will notice.
Yet then again, maybe not.
I promise not to stop.
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 11:36 AM UTC
I am looking at the moonlight
Wondering when my life begin
Swimming in a pool of sin
Letting others take me in
Making me think when
When would I be me
Stuck in the ground like a tree
Women is all I can see
Why won't my mind let me be
I'm always thinking
I'm always wanting
I'm always saying
That **** would ok
But like Barbie I'm fake
Likes everything's okay
But I have problems like the rest saying my future could be the best
But I'm wearing suicide like a vest
And the t shirt is pressed
My pants on set
My life is a mess
None hears my cry
It so silent I could die
I could die right now
And not make a sound
I'll look back and say
That every things okay
But it's not
My head is in a lock
My mind won't set me free
Every body thinks I'm filled with glee
But can they see the real me
Can they feel me crying
No they can't
Because it's all in my mind .
.
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 12:42 AM UTC
Drunk not yet plastered. so from this world I am my master. Realsms colide and I reside in the middle. Fiddle with illusions and reality, but my abnormalities keep me sane. Pain keeps me going as these weak emotions leave me in a realm of the unknowing. searching never seems to get old, but have once been told to be better. Not from this deases in which I bleed, but from the seed in which I plant. My drestruction holds a sweet flower, the aroma it is unmistakablelike, like fresh durt being tuned or Like hair being burned. Detectable as it may be. I seem to to hope, wish, and pray to be free. To bad that's just the drunkeness in me. I love my garden because it is mine. Yet I have better flowers and fresh growth in mind. A pity that influenced thoughts will never flurish.
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 5:27 AM UTC
Drinking red wine beside her
in a warm house
welcoming and it’s finally calm
I feel good inside
the wine hits
and you smile with drunken love
soon it deteriorates
the wine never deteriorates
it lays still inside me
and I’m smiling with drunkeness
all over me
you wave goodbye at the bus stop
goodbye until the summer dies down
and soon we meet again
but not in love
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 2:18 AM UTC
Whats the difference between me and a celebrity?
Why is his signature worth more than mine?
Are we not a created equally?
Then why does he deserve a Shrine,
In a teenage girls bedroom.
As if his name is something worth screaming over,
Making all the girls swoon.
Did he get lucky from a four leaf clover?
Because in my eyes he is the same,
Just with more fake friends
That he doesnt even know by name,
Teaching kids they need to get big or its a dead end,
As if being famous is the only thing that matters
Destroying kids dreams, leaving hearts shattered.
So whats the big deal about being a celebrity?
If money replaces family
If public drunkeness is more important than sobriety,
If the only love I could ever recieve
Was someone looking at me through a television screen.
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 12:25 AM UTC
Walking
in a field
surrounded
by a forest
light streams down
and the sound of winged voices
drowns the senses in sheer simple drunkeness.
I feel as if I have just begun;
just been born and am 4000 years old.
Aug 14, 2010
Aug 14, 2010 at 7:18 AM UTC
Cracking sunflower seeds between rigid teeth
Swigging beers through pursed lips
Inhaling menthol cigarettes with tired lungs and a tight rib cage
I'm left not knowing the difference between your exhales and sighs
I could say that times like these will brand my memory forever
Salt and shells will never taste the same
my teeth are left weak from clenching when you're in pain
Alcohol will never completely flow through
my inebriation is always accompanied by you
Cigarettes still consume me and nearly smother
as you're asking to *** one, and I'm lighting one off the other
I could tell you when small talks lead to deep moments littered with empty bags and condensation, that I am the happiest I have ever been.
I could tell you these things when there was us.
Picking and choosing which seeds to take from the same pile, fingers interlaced, losing count of drinks and who gave the last smoke to who...
But here we are and us is lost
our night ends when there are no more smokes to share
Menthol still burns through most of our air
our drunkeness calls for sleep and warm clothes
We'll both get sick and keep the other close
our appetites and muddled minds both soothed and still
Eating and conversation so easily a thrill
My mind is numb from how these moments keep recurring
I know you're hiding sighs inside of exhaling smoke
Us meant that I could soothe that stammered breathing and those bruised ribs, because us meant you curling into me while you slept through it all
Us meant that it didn't matter how much we'd had to drink, because us meant the other would be there to make it all seem okay
Us meant that we could eat together, and smoke together, and sleep together, and love each other, and kiss, and smile, and laugh, and just be.
Us meant a lot of things, but us isn't what we are anymore.
It's just we.
We're still passing off sunflower seeds and just barely touching hands
We're still drinking from the same beer bottle
We're still sharing cigarettes
We're still catching the other smiling in our direction for no reason at all.
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 12:41 AM UTC
Passing all those drunkards on the street,
All high on wine and beer,
I spot the many different ones,
But none as bad as you.
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 5:52 PM UTC
the bones in my fingers shiver
lost on a winter night of broken bones
sultry past kisses and hearts in a wither
nothing was more beautiful than our mixed pain
in the same *** that we fashioned with our
small moments of drunkeness and incoherence
I wanted to be lost all the time with you
floating on every surface that life would take us to
I walk down the park and the leaves are blowing
all around me, nature she is trying to tell me something
my thoughts of you then stop, and the wind calms
how am I to live like this, and where can I go to find the answer
Im exhausted with trying to find it in me
because its not
the only thing that is inside of me is you
and I have become so so heavy with you
my thoughts have turned into flesh that I cut open
with knives and I drain them of their blood
and hang the old skin on my walls
and remember us
I paint our lost fetus in the
midnight
we could have been everything
thrown our hands in the air and never
let life stop us, do you have any idea
what these words mean
do you know where I rip these words
from
my eyes are bleeding
as I smile at your departure
as I bid you farewell
Jan 8, 2011
Jan 8, 2011 at 10:03 AM UTC
Are we but dream junkies
And all the stars that trail,
In the gloams of milky ways,
But empty islands more for us,
Golden archipelagoes, baubles
Ringing, rounding out heavens'
Wreathing, oceans, nil vastness
To fixate upon from whence we
Once were, by souls' fashioning,
Airy and unrealistic as dear fools'
Child-minded convictions, fables,
Fetal, in smoky amniotic aethers,
Wisps of matter to see unlocked,
Unchained from sparks of nothing,
Wide eyed as supernovae in voids,
As light injects into us such purpose,
Imaginations so neatly dreamed upon,
Once and for all, stories bound in sleepy
Times, or tis more our sole, sun, but one
Dim light in all these unsettled sparklings,
A tapestry which etches our righting eyes,
Into sandy itchings, spiral notches, grains
Ticking us eternal to vested lime beds waiting,
Are we sunk in drunkeness by the overheaded
Skies, fumbling about, numbed,
In soul rummages?
Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 2:02 AM UTC
I can't find my motivation again...
I feel the pull of my bed drag me towards it like I'm a discarded piece of metal subjected to the power of an industrial magnet, waiting to be put on the compactor and meet my clautrophobic end
I can't remember where I left my smile last night
I put it on my night stand, I'm sure... or did I?
Drunkeness forbids me from forming a coherent thought about the laughter I vaguely remember, or if it ever existed
I spit out the blood in my mouth from the grinding of my teeth like a rusty, old hinge that can hardly move to open the cage in which I imprisoned my own happiness
My arms can't seem to hold on tight enough to life, at least not today
I can feel the dread in my thoughts constantly taunt me, poking at every one of my imperfections, shouting at my low self esteem, and my guilt choking me to the point of unconsciousness, because I oppose not
The words I vomited along with all the beer, still stain my clothes and my skin, reminding me of the hangover to come
I will hate myself for having done so, and I will promise myself to never drink or love again
But that's a promise I never keep
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 12:41 PM UTC
That moment the bass drops in a favorite song
Submerging your body from the core inside the musical trance
The first few strides in the open air after days of isolation
Open eyes opening once more as the daylight kisses them
A smile appearing where your lips were caressed by another's
Blossoming as your fingertips trace the fresh tracks of a kiss
The soothing heat that spreads through your body
Bringing a cool breeze gushing from your core within
You didn't have a drop to drink to feel this drunkeness
You sit in silence yet the music is still felt
You were never imprisoned to feel the freedom of open spaces
And your lips have been untouched for days unnumbered
But the memory is still there, fresh as the grass beneath your dreaming feet
As refreshing as the waters of a forgotten stream lightly touching your palms
Bringing a sorely missed kindred spirit back to its other life
Complete in it's entirety and clear in view
Without lacking in touch, smell or others alike
Oh love, it's real, more real than we could ever fantasize.
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 3:37 PM UTC
Drunkeness and falling
Give that stomach tightening feeling
I miss it.
It's the lull I feed myself while my mind cycles
Scaring me, gaining strength
Like a snowball down a hill
I want the comfort of someone to hold
Slender and soft
In the way only a woman can be
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 1:51 PM UTC
Here I am again,
Asking what I've missed
I hope we can get back
on a regular talking schedule..
well, wait, that sounded awkward.
I guess I can't really say
why I dropped contact--
Or wait, did you?
I don't remember
I had fun that night
The one where we danced in
karaoke bar and stole a kiss here and there.
I guess that was us being drunk
and sharing our drunkeness
in a dance and a few close hugs
I hope you're well
I know I'm not very good at follow-ups
Crap, it's late. I can text you later?
I guess? I'm sorry.
I hope you're well.
Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 9:25 AM UTC
.
Are we but dream junkies
And all the stars that trail,
In the gloams of milky ways,
But empty islands more for us,
Golden archipelagoes, baubles
Ringing, rounding out heavens'
Wreathing, oceans, nil vastness
To fixate upon from whence we
Once were, by souls' fashioning,
Airy and unrealistic as dear fools'
Child-minded convictions, fables,
Foetal, in smoky amniotic aethers,
Wisps of matter to see unlocked,
Unchained from sparks of nothing,
Wide eyed as supernovae in voids,
As light injects into us such purpose,
Imaginations so neatly dreamed upon,
Once and for all, stories bound in sleepy
Times, or tis more our sole, sun, but one
Dim light in all these unsettled sparklings,
A tapestry which etches our righting eyes,
Into sandy itchings, spiral notches, grains
Ticking us eternal to vested lime beds waiting,
Are we sunk in drunkeness by the overheaded
Skies, fumbling about, numbed, slumbered
In soul rummages?
.
Mar 1, 2019
Mar 1, 2019 at 8:17 PM UTC