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Lilith Meredith Apr 2013
All I wanted was a cigarette.
We weren't allowed to smoke.
He knew where to go.

We swept sidewalks together.
Raked sand together.
Talked about life together.

His window was across from mine.
I think he saw me changing once.
Maybe more than once.

He was getting dishonorably discharged.
I didn't think he was a good man.
I didn't think he was a bad one, either.

It had been two weeks since I landed in Monterey.
I only wanted a cigarette.
He knew where to go.

I bought the Southern Comfort and bottom shelf gin.
He carried them with him to his room.
I didn't think anything of it.

We raked sand together.
We ate lunch together.
We watched movies together.

We sat on a makeshift bench by the ditch by the installation fence.
We drank and smoked and laughed.
I taught him Farsi and he taught me Russian.

Russian for "hello" and "goodbye."
Russian for "This is allowed."
Russian for "This is not allowed."

I think he saw me changing once.
He tried to kiss me on the cheek.
I told him no, my boyfriend wouldn't like that very much.

We smoked some more.
We drank some more.
We laughed some more.

It was 2130.
I had to be in my room by 2200.
He said not to worry, I'd be back in time.

I insisted and tried to leave.
I fell to the ground.
He didn't help me up.

I only wanted a cigarette.
He kissed me on the mouth.
I did not kiss him back.

I was immobile.
Paralyzed.
Drugged?

He kissed me again.
And again.
And again.

I did not kiss him back.
I had a boyfriend.
All I wanted was to smoke and drink and laugh.

He grabbed me by the ankles.
Pulled me over the ditch behind the army barracks by the installation fence.
I could hear soldiers coming back to their rooms.

I was paralyzed.
I always thought I would fight.
Fend him off with car keys stuffed between my fingers.

I looked up at the tree branches above me, my watch said 2147.
That was the last time I prayed to God.
There were leaves in my hair and dirt on my arms.

There was something less than a man between my legs.
It looked at me with hate in its eyes.
We swept sidewalks together.

God kicked back and swigged a PBR
     while I was ***** behind the army barracks,
     over the ditch by the installation fence.

He helped me up.
I couldn't stand on my own.
How sweet.

I vomited by a tree.
I was disgusted with myself and him and God.
I wanted to drown in Southern Comfort and bottom shelf gin.

He walked me to my barracks building.
How sweet.
I made it to my room by 2200.

All the girls watched me stumble down the hallway.
I was so violently alone.
Taps wailed outside the window.

I left my hat by the bench by the ditch by the installation fence.
He brought it to me the next morning.
How sweet.
Part II in a series.
John Dec 2012
I saw you at the party
And I said "what's her name?"
But nobody knew
I wondered why you came
You're a mystery
Shrouded in things unknown
When you saw me
You looked down, drink in hand
Took a sip, and I took a stand

I asked you to hit the floor with me
You whispered about your boyfriend
But baby, I could barely see
I couldn't tell if this was the end
So I took a step back
Eyes locked all over you
Did you really have a boy or was it something I lacked?
Either way, I'll never find out what's true
Because just as I turned
You swigged your Jack
Thought I got burned
But I guess I'm back

You don't dont know the meaning of subtlety
You came up around the side
And flanked me where I couldn't see
You led me away to that darkened room
Questioning if what was happening could really be
Did I drink too much?
Have I partied too long?
But questioning my sanity is never as fun as *******
But baby, you're strong
Or maybe you're drunk as hell too
You don't know it but I can go long
Down field and back to vibe with you
The look on your face
Says "tomorrow is new,
So lets do this thing.
Because, right now, only this moments true.
"
Inspired by The Weeknd's lyrics and thematic content. As well as some real-life experiences."
It began to snow at midnight, and
we made our way home after a night down the pub.

We ambled past a torrent of drunks
but slowly continued on into the  kaleidoscopic blur.

We hope the New Year will bring joy,
instead of wishing the calendar disintegrates in front of us.

We have suffered more so than most
and our misery is intensified by the ***, the gin.

We know our lives are jagged, confused
and with little money, I certainly can’t treat you well.

We finally arrived home and flumped onto
the sofa, our eyes avoiding that blasted calendar on the wall.

We went into the kitchen soon after,
where it was warm, we swigged a glass of wine or three.

We saw the flakes continue to fall,
the clicking of the clock penetrating our minds.

We discussed the future, where we will be
in years to come. Eternity, won’t you lend us a hand?

For it is this eternity that is so uncertain,
unclear, buried deep under the crisp, white snow.
Written: December 2011 and March 2012.
Explanation: My fifth poem for university. This is a responsive poem to Vladimír Holan's poem 'Snow'. Again, not my best, but certainly different than the stuff I would usually write.
William A Poppen Jan 2017
Faded stains of spilled bourbon
dot the weathered nightstand’s surface
like stars speckle a clear midnight sky
Each commemorates a prop of courage
swigged to help forge another day

Bras, slips, heels and flats
pepper the soiled carpet
reflections of the many
nightly transgressions now
impediments which fleck her soul

Her frontal lobe
harbors distortions
from her past
forgiven by those who know her
forgotten by others

Rain pelts her window
rat-tat, rat-tats against the panes
compulsively splatters the door
flings open her mind
to let today’s downpour
splash away
any trace of her anguish
Blocked in inspiration I am editing previous posts here.  This work was originally called Drops of Compulsion and listed here in 2015.
Poetic T Apr 2017
502
The ruination of a twenty minute piece,
only two stanzas in verse but a  Michelangelo
of verse, but in full discontent it crashed
and my art became white washed into oblivion...

I swigged three vodkas at the nothingness that
stared back, there are some that are creations
never to be repeated, an amnesia of vison
but all I got was a 502 reload **** that...
fix the **** ups or I'm gone...
Alicia Dec 2015
she poured brown sugar on top. talked but refused to speak. that.  was her last inhale.  cigars ordained the fountain    and the blue irises diluted.  i expected to see drops.   the ends shriveled up.
    
but we swigged godiva
      
     she said:                                                        
sunday we’ll go to the beach

    i laugh     at first
          the open air was all legs and armpits
          i casually held my palms to my nose
     wine to drown the stench
    
she chatted in infinites


there was only a small bustle. thirteen o’ clock. the canvases were pulled back.  always some glass in our hands. the horses didn’t care, in fact, let us stroke their noses. i still wonder  what they patrolled. we kept drinking.  passed out in a public park.

    i said
    it’ll be concrete jungles
friendship forgotten



                               she woke with leaves                                                           ­ 
                   at her temples    in her tear ducts.
                                                          ­ i typed it
                                                           l e a v e s
              
            
*seen by all
WendyStarry Eyes Sep 2015
When I was a child
I once lived with my Mama and sisters
In the Carolina Pines
Down a winding clay road
At a place called Buffalo lake

Each day was an adventure
Life there was joyous
Many times my mind wishes
It is there I could have stayed

I feel truly blessed
Having had that experience in my past
Despite the fact I still hold
This deep desire that could not last

Begging Mama to swim early in the spring
She would say
"That water's not warm yet, You don't know everything"
"You might catch a cold!!"

I would say
"Mama please let me put my bathing suit on, I'll just wade,
I won't go past my knees"
I'd beg her till she was sold!!

I'd slowly ease my way
further away from the shore
Until, opps, well, I just couldn't
Control myself any more

"I know it's a lake Mama,
But I swear there was an under tow"
"It took control of me
Head first I dove
But it's not even cold"

That would be the start
of the spring
Into the summer I would sing

I had my first sip of moonshine
Swigged out of a Tylenol bottle
given to me by a friend of mine
in the forest of the pines

Fourth of July was always a blast
I can still imagine the fireworks over the water
even though it was so many years in the past

Next thing you know
It was time for school to start
It brought forth grief
In my heart

They would drain the lake the first few miles
It turned into nothing but a big mud pile
My friends and I would tread through the mud
Searching for treasure lost
Throughout the summer from above

I will never forget the time I was
cornered in the mud, by the two horrific geese,
As I sunk deeper
They treated me like a piece of cheese

They pecked at my legs
Till I was all the way down
Then they started attacking my crown
About that time the boy
I had my first crush on
Stepped in and defended me
He ****** the geese gone

Don't get me wrong
All the times there were not easy or fun
In those times my Mama was a single Mom
She was going to school and working too
When times were hard she would say
"Peanut butter and Jelly will make you strong"

I could tell you other stories,
Some would say were bad
I consider them to be wisdom of my soul
In each experience that I've had

The lessons I learned by
The lake down the red clay road
Have blossomed into values
Some will never hold

I want to tell others of all the good
And Yes of all of the bad
My purpose is not to make them
happy or sad

My purpose is just to let them know
Enjoy both the good and the bad
Life is an honor
We are blessed to bestow
Dormant, standing on the bow peering out with telescope in hand
Quite seas
Off in the distance,
Land
Bright sunlight piercing through closed fingers
Shielding the reflection of the ocean and sky
To no avail
Telescope still in hand
Distance drawing nearer
"Land **!" yells the lookout as dry ugly faces peer out from below deck
Grumbling voices wake from their slumber as the crew saunters their way into the day light and fresh air
They grab rope, and hooks, swords, and supplies
Captain steering towards the shore
They hop on three dinghies
Eight strong
Yo ** ** and a bottle of ***
Eyepatches, sly grins, and peg legs a plenty
No one greets them on the small island
They are there to pillage the resources and devour the meats as they reach soil
Sharp teeth and empty stomachs
Tattoos of women with large *******, and anchors, hearts, and daggers
***
Much *** will be swigged and landing in bellies come nightfall
Songs sung by fires warm light
At mornings break they shall hunt and scour the land for animals and resources
They haven't a map but smell treasure
They know it's there
They whiff at the air to determine their course
They argue their cut, their share of their findings until one man lay dead from sharp blades final judgement
More for the taking of the rest of the crew
Morning comes
Through the branches, over rocks they climb towards the peek
The summit
A cave, a cave is in sight
They throw rocks in order to draw out and living creature that may have made a home inside
No sound permeates
It is safe to enter
Fire sticks are lit and cave is entered with caution
Whispers and hushes
They stumble
Head meets rock
Blood
This is no easy life
They reach a cavernous waterhole
The first man is egged on to explore its contents
Explore its depth
The water is knee deep
Until, until he sinks out of sight and the water swallows him whole
Startled, the men scamper back to dry land
"Where has our fellow mate gone", they ask
Splashing, he reemerges
He reaches the surface and cries out
"Gold!!"
The ending is no ending but for you to decide
juttu Oct 2018
We rode on the deserted roads,
through the expanse of humble abodes
We rode by the huts and the sheds,
by disconcerting poverty and dreads
Dogs barked
Televisions barked
We rode onto darkness,
to silence
The huts thinned out
Now it was only the growling motor
and the hooting owls
and the chirping crickets
The beer had warmed
But it was a cold night
She sipped, I swigged
The headlamp needed some fixing
The beams kissed treetops as I rode
into blind bumps and corners
On the left was a pretty sight
and it was a lonely night
So I turned left
and rode as far into the beach as I could
but here it was mostly sand
and the riding got out a little out of hand
the tires didn’t bite
but it was alright
I could see the waves
We were only a few meters away
This was a perfect getaway
Behind the bushes and the vines
Abetted by the palms and pines
I killed the motor
and put it on the stand
but it sunk in the sand
I tried to lift but it was heavy
She dragged me to the waves
I dragged her to the bushes

Her eyes twinkled
and the edges crinkled
as she smiled
and it soon got wild
I unbuttoned her shirt
and we kissed till it hurt
I struggled with the clasps
between the kisses and gasps
She was very kind
She didn’t mind
helping a man blinded
by the darkness of the night
and of his depraved soul
She helped me with the clasp
and stripped bare
without concern or care
She yanked my pants
and we did a tribal dance
drunk out of our wits
in the moonless ritz
there was rhythm in the air
and we both sensed it
The gentle slush of the wave
nudged us to save
and treasure the last drops of love
that we could have now
As we made slow love in the breeze
the world dribbled to ease
and we mated in the dark night
with the moon still out of sight
wordvango Dec 2014
I was walking home past the Rose Hill Cemetery right
around the corner from my tepee here at 111 North Street,
when I heard a sweet voice call me, breathy and my *** immediately took notice, when she said my name like she knew me intimately.
She said, "I am Mother Mary, and I have come to relay to you your
destiny." I froze-recalling all those psychedelics I used back in the 70's.
She continued, " Your need is great, and Jesus awaits, and all of heaven will
welcome you as the newest angel."
I swigged again from my Olde English 800, and thought, well,
and turned around quick, and saw three broke *******, I laughed.
They, smiled sweet, and begged one cigarette. I gave each two,
and all of my religion!
Terry Collett Sep 2014
Helen sat next to me
on the grass
outside Banks House

I was attempting to open
a bottle of lemonade

can I have a drop?
she asked

sure
once I get the thing open
I said

she looked around her
then over at the coal wharf
where coal men
were filling up
their trucks and wagons
with sacks of coal

I unscrewed
the lid of the bottle
and handed her
the bottle

she took it
with both hands
and took a swig
then another

pearls of sweat
sat on her forehead
her brown wet hair stuck
to her face at the sides
it was a hot summer

here
she said
handing me the bottle

I wiped the top
and took a swig

that's better
she said
I was really thirsty
my tongue felt
like the bottom
of my baby sister's pram

I handed her the bottle again
she wiped the top
and swigged some more

I watched her
as she drank
then looked away
and looked at the flat's
behind us
no curtains moved
no curtain twitchers
looked at us

she gave me back the bottle
and I ******* the lid
back on
and placed it
beside me on the grass

I’m getting
a new school dress tomorrow
she said
Mum said I’ve outgrown
my old one

I gazed at her
she was wearing
a tomato stained white blouse
and grey pleated skirt
white ankle socks
and black scuffed shoes

I may get new blouses
if they can afford them
otherwise I’ll have to wear
those second hand ones
my mum got
from a jumble sale
not that I mind of course
but new ones
are always better

I took a white paper bag
from the grass
and said
want a bun?

is it fresh?

this morning's

OK thank you
and she took a bun
from the bag
and ate into it

I took one
and ate it
piece by piece
picking out the currants

I need shoes too
she said
but don't expect
to get them yet awhile
will have to
make them do

a horse drawn
coal wagon
moved out
of the coal wharf

Helen still talked

I watched the horse
trotting along the road
he didn't seem strained
pulling the heavy load.
A BOY AND GIRL IN 1950S LONDON.
". Come with me , come come ". ( giggle )
Her hand stretched out , it ' l. be fun , !  

My heart is now encased on my mantelpiece next to a fetching
Red rose .
How pritty in bloom ,
Yet cut from its roots does it not perish and die ?
Like the soul of man were starved of love would it not like a flower
In a vase but cut off from its maker . ?
For in life how fleeting is breath ,
for God has taken to find eternal rest .
A ticking of a clock ,
the hour hand passes twelve. for if we fear time what s. Left is only
the absence of light .

My hearts on my mantelpiece  I left it there it's so full of pride .
I left it there as it was full of love and beauty ,
and full of patience and kindness .

Yet I raced in speeding cars through burger bars  ,
swigged Champagne and snorted ******* ,
Caught a rail road train half way to paradise .

Now my hearts dying and my love has grown cold .

The telegram man on his Nobel steed stand before me ,
with his letter of death ,
My condemned dammed soul if that letter I take in driving bitter rain.

What hope have I that I should ever die to gain nothing better than
This ?
........

Another Telegram man appeared on a mountain far away
a ray of light that caught my eye on that mountain far away ,
Where green fields and water ran like steams of living gold ,
and I saw a broken heart ,
and a ****** cross ,
and bracken  a steep hill and a long rugged road
and a hand so scared from a Roman nail stretched out with a staff ,
and a beautiful heart .
" Follow me "
Megan Sherman Sep 2017
For demos, future free, the hemlock swigged
Travelled East, to mysteries discern
Stokes the flame of knowledge, fearsome burn
Shines light where darkling night had plagued
Sauntering, ballistic, through the town
An infantry of ideas stomping by
That doth imagine, map the cosmic sky
From his fine mind, wild, overgrown
when president elect Donald John Trump
sworn in vowing to accept the following pledge.
"I do solemnly swear (or affirm)
that I will faithfully
execute the Office of President
of the United States,
and will to the best of my ability,
preserve, protect and defend
the Constitution of the United States,"
whose surprise come from behind
winning as commander in chief
ten days after Tuesday, November 5, 2024
doth stymie and stump
the writer of these words,
who would much prefer leader
of our free webbed wide world
a character like Forrest Gump.

I find myself dumbfounded
and not trying to be a smart ***
foo fighting generic humble
sitting on his ****,
nevertheless, I rather imagine
(fire breathing snapping) dragon,
whose known fearsomeness clearly recognized
versus accompanying, (albeit riding shotgun)
in his swiftly tailored
harried stylied customized reo speedwagon
freshly minted forty seventh president
as he cozies up
with top three notch totalitarian rulers
of the webbed wide world
such as Ali Hosseini Khamenei,
Vladimir Putin, and
Kim Jong Un for starters.

Soon - once dominion wrought
upon peoples of these United States
freedom of life, liberty
and the pursuit of happiness
will find inalienable rights
enshrining Declaration of Independence
and Constitution well taut
flag rent internecine conflict
pitting free soilers against slave owners

and rendered all for nought
countless young lives sacrificed
upon hallowed ground,
where vicious battles fought,
and feverishly achieved
courtesy unimagined beastie boys
nsync with cutting crew
witnessed progressive solutions
with grievous social issues,

but now that big bad Don
secured a majority
of 270 electoral votes
required to elect as POTUS,
(and did you notice absent
accusation of rigged elections?),
where gubernatorial celebrants
swigged one after another draught
of legitimacy to lampoon

anybody and everybody at will
invariably kindle sophisticated wordsmiths,
who possess an incisive wit and wisdom
would showcase their adroit skill
in their zeal to fulminate
against self appointed
dictatorial henchmen as bitter pill
wickedly spewing phlegm out nostril
demanding theatrical performances

attendance required or else
lest one get hashtagged as linkedin
with subversive nasty happy horsesh*t
as stipulated in their handbill
addressed to each person
electronically and courtesy hard copy
individually courtesy autofill
utilizing a generic template
to pronounce all future edicts.

Away thinly veiled threats
to wreak havoc
and foment spoiled Christmas
for the next four years,
whereby maybe Santa
in league with reindeer and elves
can arrange for Cruella
to feign being his long lost sis
before he gets his bear size paws
on documents painstakingly drafted

against British sovereignty
over fate of thirteen colonies
to relish contra dancing
at all hours of the day and night
(watch for ContraCopia
Saturday, November 30, 2024 -
2:00 pm until 11:00 pm)
where all proceeds go
to raise fiddler on the roof
atop complex edifice,

where wild asparagus throve,
and swallowtail butterflies
flitted to and fro, hither and yon
totally oblivious, judicious,
fractious, capricious, and adventitious
dramatic changing of the guard
upholding fledgling recipe for
Norwegian bachelor farmers
forefathers/mothers to jump/
kick started democracy.

— The End —