Liquour poems on Hello Poetry

Ara Jun 2021

small

the tug is light,
like string caught on a bracelet.
but this is his home
and these are his scissors,
and he cuts you off.
your plea is but a mild annoyance
and these four walls seem smaller alone.
they ***** you out
and that tug..
that tug is a knot caught in your throat
being washed down with liquour.

he doesn't tell you this
-not in words his lover can hear-
but he hates you.
you are small
and he hates you,
and that lover is a friend
who doesn't know to save you.

you are small and alone
and he hates you.
you'll remember to believe him
when he jokingly says so.

#hate #small #belittle #alone

Aisha Zakhael Aug 2019

Who Are You?

Who are you?

I am not a vessel;
woman, poet, coloured,
they are only covers.

Who are you?

I am not any of those titles.
You force me to knit a name
from parts of worn clothes
to avoid your own face
in the mirror.

Who are you?

The love in your veins.
The liquour of life -
like water I mold
into shapes, but
I am without form.

Who are you?

You.
A soul.

#love #mysticism #spirituality #spirit #soulful #rumi

The Backstreet Poet May 2018

Complications of Development

See it's a strange thing,
"self made men"
It's the rage thing,
"forbes front page t'ing"
A majority that's pacing,
voting for a one percent
that in return enslaves them
My girl used to laugh at my jokes
now I'm broke and she ******* hates 'em

I look for aspects of success and then I stage them
be sure to colour background facebook page 'em
My rent doesn't reflect my wages that's inflation;
that's what I get for living so close to the station

In this pompous student city covered in glitter
and these ditsy Corpus Christi *******
be getting quicker and quicker and quicker
Don't know how they can afford the liquour
pre-drinks before Ballare movin' on to something bigger

If I see another site with student accommodation
on the hoarding, I might as well go sell my ****;
Start ******* because I'll never make it in this town
I'm one quarter brown and I don't speak Spanish
born in Cranebridge, forced to watch others live lavish
The tourist loves it but a local feels damaged

..

#uk #street #england #poetry #rhythm #rhyme #wages #working #relations #struggle

Aditya Roy May 2020

On the road

In a stretch of cement highway
It is too ruinous and marked by yellow
I do hate the truth

So they tell me change the world
Let that be said by young fellows
I cannot bring happiness
To myself
Let alone a sea change

I may be walking
But my mind is on the lies
That I shall tell to myself
All love's a stage
In the sunset of blue liquour

Where a perfect circle table lamp
Celebrates my fiery pork *****
Lying on the hot deserted bed overlooking me
Tells me move over in the bright morning

You are taking up light and space
Sometimes blocking the way in the diner
Getting in trouble with another waitress
Then, I sit in my chair

My girl tells me write
I delve in my delinquent mind
It begins a soliloquy
On the road, on the road far away

Taken from a title of a book. Or is it a figure of speech.

— The End —