"jager" poems
The bartender a europa server leaves me a shot of liquid propane.
He moves past every silver dollar forgetting about the meaning
of whskey and bull dogs.
I watch cody a young university of washington student sneek In a can of raineer beer (if he really goes there) ill never ask him.
This is how lastcall always takes place: a drunken masqerader our friend johnny
Drops his wallet and kills a shot of jager. ( are we drunk enouph yet)
I order a taco and gain three hundread pounds tonight.
Master of the pitchers. He still dreams of being a physical thearpist ( he failed trying to take over for Dyrile). His new tall order of a job makes my anticipated buzz weaker.
Im tired of these long dresses opening up and spilling all over the dance floor ( the dj warned her not to)
Our ladies still mention bach. Inside of her purse hides a mystery knovel.
Tueday means a victory at home. Every player utters pride of being a regular.
We sink the black eight ball knowing the bouncer gets in the way of ourdrunk enemies ( a red head)
He charges like arhino. Hes a animal without areason to **** But the bouncer prevents his six year jail sentence from ever happening. Bexause were all forgiven like helpless bar rags trying to dry out before the mold and mildew
contaminate our bull **** stories. We all speak easily after the brooklyn dodgers turn every blue and white hat around the five head.
He wont show us how the airforce cut his hair. Every one of his is angry patrons drink until the switch flickers the message ( crawl home bfore the cops fish with dynamite) in the ruston pqarking lot. (Searching for fake DW'S) each of themshine a britemaglite until the last car disapears still swerving like a skunk ptetending to hide in the storm gutters.
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 6:05 AM UTC
She is raving and unfaithful,
judged to die of insomnia
but
I love her.
She dances four tangos
with demons in her mind
but the fifth dance is mine tonight.
Instead of singing her love songs
I scream in agony
"Baby, your blood tastes like Tequila",
but she pours me a cold Jager
hissing.
She was never a person of tender touch,
rolled up her sleeves and showed her scars
and bruises
like a warrior.
She is ******* and restless,
a street cat fearing strangers
yet chasing cars
and
I love her.
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 2:16 PM UTC
There are a lot of misconceptions about Uni
Such as we all live lives like the ones off Hollyoaks
And that in order to survive
You need to be three things:
Beautiful
A party-animal
And an iron liver.
Sorry to disappoint you.
Those things are all nice:
Much like a free side with your sub
Or a red-letter day.
They’re nice –
But they’re not necessarily vital.
It’s not vital you fall in love with the first person you meet
It’s not vital you get with someone within Freshers
Like it’s a race and you’re Lyford Christie.
It’s not vital that you down half a bottle of Jager
To prove to your flatmates you’re a god
It’s not necessary.
Some of my best friends
Are quiet
But they are good
And I wouldn’t want them any other way
When we come together we have nothing but fun.
Without alcohol
Without drugs
Without 2am walkins
I know...
What’s this world coming to?
Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 3:49 PM UTC
The bartender a europa server leaves me a shot of liquid propane.
He moves past every silver dollar forgetting about the meaning
of whskey and bull dogs.
I watch cody a young university of washington student sneek In a can of raineer beer (if he really goes there) ill never ask him.
This is how lastcall always takes place: a drunken masqerader our friend johnny
Drops his wallet and kills a shot of jager. ( are we drunk enouph yet)
I order a taco and gain three hundread pounds tonight.
Master of the pitchers. He still dreams of being a physical thearpist ( he failed trying to take over for Dyrile). His new tall order of a job makes my anticipated buzz weaker.
Im tired of these long dresses opening up and spilling all over the dance floor ( the dj warned her not to)
Our ladies still mention bach. Inside of her purse hides a mystery knovel.
Tueday means a victory at home. Every player utters pride of being a regular.
We sink the black eight ball knowing the bouncer gets in the way of ourdrunk enemies ( a red head)
He charges like arhino. Hes a animal without areason to kill. But the bouncer prevents his six year jail sentence from ever happening. Bexause were all forgiven like helpless bar rags trying to dry out before the mold and mildew
contaminate our bull **** stories. We all speak easily after the brooklyn dodgers turn every blue and white hat around the five head.
He wont show us how the airforce cut his hair. Every one of his is angry like drini until the switch flicker themessage ( crawl home bforetheco9s fishwith dynamite) in the ruston pqarking lot.
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 6:05 AM UTC
take a walk in her shoes
impromptu parties
& people you know that
just love you
'cause you're one of the few
that remember how to
a very close game of
beer pong
birthday boy mixing all
the liquor in the
nearly empty bottle of
Jager
*but **** was it
dangerously delicious*
you fall in love with anyone
who gives you the
least bit of
attention and you feel
like a siren
trying to draw in
all the men
so very lost at
sea
if only for a friendly
chat
then its closing time
for your schedule
& the next day you enter
into the world of all you call
home sweet home
back at your mother's
all the people you ever loved
minus one
have come to grace you with
a good old-fashioned
get together
the girl who had your back
since grade school
gives you the great gift
of fresh ink on your shoulder
she worried about ******* it up
you worry about how much
that needle's gonna sting
but it doesn't
the men gather upstairs
& we sing classic songs
of drugs
& love and grunge
you almost made the boy
cry with your voice
these days are too few and far
between
come by again sometime
we miss you where you are
& you'll always miss feeling so
alive
Mar 25, 2012
Mar 25, 2012 at 10:46 PM UTC
The unscrupulous cavalry shuffled aboard narrow lanes,
Cutting in line towards Jager Bomb's tether,
Cluttered duffel bags concealing cheap champagnes,
Passing cruise ship commuter's ruffled feathers.
With their fake, "excuse me's" en route to the bar,
Coercing the conductor who's been under the weather
With smug smiles and counterfeit Cuban cigars.
Leaving the harbor three sheets to the wind
The cowards commandeered Grandparents pool chairs,
A little past midnight with no foresight of end,
An abrupt brawl broke out, fists flying through air.
A sightseeing whale trip turned into a ship from hell,
The assailants now held in a South of Wales cell.
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 12:07 AM UTC
Når lygterne er tændt. Når skovstien ligner en scene fra en gyserfilm. Når skummet på bølgerne er selvlysende. Når myggene er usynlige. Når tyvene lister. Når rovdyrene jager. Når ofrene sover. Når ilden knitrer. Når strengende stemmer. Når stemmerne kimer. Når fuglene vågner. Når musene flyver. Når englene synger. Når mælken skummer. Når bladene pusler. Når grenene banker på vinduerne. Når resten af verden sover.
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 9:55 AM UTC
do you still think it was real what we felt
or are you embarrassed by its very occurance?
do you accept it as victory or defeat?
did you kiss anybody on new years eve?
you must type my number into your phone
wanting to hit call but then you don't
or are there pages of words written for me
that break you a little to know i'll never read?
if you can't sleep at night what the **** do you do?
do you wonder if we both have an intamacy issue?
was it depression or was it just me?
drawing lines and measuring distances so we couldn't be real
if i told you right now that i am sorry
i don't know if you'd respond 'me too' or 'don't bother'
i used to know you inside out
now i have no new memories to store in my head
it's funny how i worried about breaking your heart
and completely forgot that i had my own to tear apart
still no amount of jager makes me tell you i miss you
so either i don't or i'm still the coward you fell in love with
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 10:04 PM UTC
Show me what I'm worth
When you're facedown, thinking
You're so ******** when you're running your mouth
Got a few things bottled up
Jump on a couple bottles like double dutch
Jager's got your faded when society has me jaded
How do you expect for us to grow
When all you want to do is break
It's time to let **** go
Don't be tough
Just make sure I see you cry enough
Don't bottle this up
The way I make you feel when I'm around
You got to wake up this is the real world
And you're only hurting yourself
When you spend every waking moment
With your fingers crossed
I don't think you can afford to set karma further in motion
Go ahead
Talk **** it means nothing
Ask me what I see in you
I see nothing, I see right through
You're transparent, I know you don't want to hear it
And I don't want to be the one to hurt your feelings
But, I'm not afraid to freak out
Because deep down it ***** to be you
Making small stabs in passing
But the pain is bigger than it seems so,
Stop holding me under and just breathe
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 11:52 AM UTC
Let me take you back
to the time we both first met,
Still fresh in my mind
Carefully planned out
My birthday celebration;
A lovely surprise
Taken to Wine U,
The Big Bosses' "Paradise";
That's where I found you
Little did I know
The place housed my Ma'am's secret;
Ulterior motive
Arrived at seven,
Hand-kissed by a neat waiter;
Not my cup of tea
Settled on Merlot
A Cabernet Sauvignon;
Heaven in a glass
Air filled with laughter,
Music and the smell of beer,
I still felt empty
Tipsy on red wine
Whispered the waiter, "Let's smoke!"
Sighing, I followed
That's when I saw You
The one engrossed in his phone,
I wondered, "Who's that?"
"Oh, this is our Chef!"
Introduced the waiter, who
Spoke highly of You
Small, little, quick chat
What You do, and where You're at
I ditched the waiter
The following week
I returned; for wine and You,
Excitement ruled me
This time, Jager bomb
was my partner for the night;
My sanctuary
Clock struck Eleven,
The corner of my eye caught
a familiar form
Too much sexiness
in a man dressed so simple,
You must be a dream
My heart pulsated,
butterflies in my stomach,
No words came to me
A polite offer
made by my Ma'am - "Join us, Dean!"
That wasn't my plan
You stood next to me
My heart was pounding madly
"Just one drink", You said
"Why don't You sit down?"
I eyed the stool beside me
"Nah, I love to stand."
Another round came
Still, You didn't budge from your spot
I knew You're staying
We chat, joked and laughed
Amidst others' loud chatters;
I was Your focus
Minutes went by, and
alas, we found comfort in
each other's presence
My mind went astray
in between sips and Your stare;
Pictured us kissing
What a great vision;
If it was only US there,
I'd have made my move
Clock struck Four-Thirty
I didn't want the night to end;
Yellow cab waiting
With a heavy heart,
I left the wonderful place;
I'll see you again
Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 2:33 AM UTC
Jager efter det uopnåelige
Jager efter det perfekte
Jager efter succes
Jager efter ?
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 4:05 PM UTC
It was another boring school day
and school is out
nope, no school for me
not today at least
I've got places to be
and man to see
about a horse
I sneak out at lunch time
the teachers here are dumb
I went to the woods
behind the chain link fence
of the Athletic/Health club
personal betterment
what a joke?
nothing but a bunch of sheep
trying to fatten themselves up
so they can be slaughtered first
Well not me
They won't catch me
The bottle is right where I left it
untouched under the leaves
each gulp of that *****
is chased with another
even longer one
The world looks a whole lot more rosy
when I'm looking over a bottle
and the sun looks so **** cool
as it comes through the leaves
green and warm
like a bottle of Jager
Life is good
real good
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 1:54 PM UTC
Maybe my dad killed himself. Maybe I couldn't tell anyone else exactly how. Maybe I called her. Maybe it had been a few months. Maybe I just wanted to talk. Maybe it was 3 am. Maybe I needed her. Maybe I wanted it to be like old times. Maybe I wanted to wish on a shooting star again. maybe I wanted to fix things. Maybe I picked her up. Maybe I wasn't just me in the car. Maybe it was past her curfew.
It's possible a few drinks were involved. It's possible there was more than a few. It's possible when I kissed her I tasted the Jager like it was my own drink. It's possible those white shorts and crop top made me want her more. It's possible I got her alone. It's possible I told her that I still cared. It's possible that I never said it before. It's possible she cried. It's possible I was too drunk to notice. It's possible that someone else did. It's possible I got jealous. It's possible she just wanted to be held. It's possible he was gentle and did.
Perhaps he offered her a ride home. Perhaps she stayed with me. Perhaps she still loved me. Perhaps I yelled about the boy who cared for her. Perhaps she cried again. Perhaps she went home upset. Perhaps he comforted her again. Perhaps he took her to see fireworks. Perhaps he didn't know she hated them. Perhaps I didn't know she would like them. Perhaps she got closer to him. Perhaps they laughed together. Perhaps they spent all night talking about the dreams and goals I already knew. Perhaps she told him to come back the next day.
It's likely she forgot about me. It's likely she found happiness. It's likely he loved her back. It's likely they went places. It's likely he got her cute gifts. It's likely I liked their pictures on Instagram. It's likely I looked at our pictures. It's likely my sweatshirt is tucked away so he cannot see it. It's likely I was lonely. It's likely that I still want her.
Or do I? Maybe on those lonely nights, when I was feeling down, when drinks blurred everything right, perhaps anything could happen.
But then again, maybe possible, perhaps likely, that I never did need her.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 8:44 AM UTC
I don't know what it was, but that night I fell in love with her. I didn't prepare for this. The way she danced under the cheap Christmas lights holding her cup. The way she said my name in my ear. The way I could taste Jager on her lips. The way she laid in my bed. I don't know what it was, but that night I fell in love with her.
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 9:23 AM UTC
I sit at the bar just dreaming about you
The immense feelings I have are all true
The henny runs through me vein by vein
The sight of you drives me insane
This love for you burns so deep
As I take another shot because it’s so hard to sleep
I stare at the jager as I am its next prey
Because your love is so hard to bare it leaves me in dismay
This liquor has got me in deep there is no turning back
The next shot comes near me ready to attack
Her love is what I need I can’t go anymore
What more can I do what left is in store
Just thinking about the chances I leave on the table
The opportunity to ask you out but sadly I am not able
This liquor has hit my brain and I’m down for the count
I want to confess my love for you an obstacle I cannot surmount
I leave the bar and look up and here it rains
As my love burns more with liquor in my veins
Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 9:29 AM UTC