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Caitlin Jun 2018
In the in-between stage where there is just enough alcohol in my veins to try and convince me that what we had was good.
The sweet spot.
Too little or too much and all I see is the problems and why it ended in goodbye,
but here-
here I see “hey princess”-
all the “I love yous”
“I’d do anything for you”
“You’re worth it, no matter the cost”
and I know in an hour or two I’ll be thinking clearly again-
but **** right now-
I know why I stayed for so long.
I’m tipsy and we’re flirting again and I’m sorry.
chichee Nov 2018
Baby let's go
               Skinny dipping in
         disco lights.
    Drunken mouth in
            you call my body             Jerusalem
till I'm        
spluttering up
                             pool water.

    The ceiling spins
                                 a salsa,
the fridge exhales something
                               obscene when it opens
and the furniture
          I'm jealous of the
                                   love story
                    in my home.

We roll around in
     I slurp the      happy
            out of
                     your mouth.
                                     Saucy smirks.
Oh keeper of my heart,
                             I chain myself to
your smile and
                              swallow the
Something whimsical to pass the time
L B Nov 2017
Did I touch you as I left?
That night of beer and music
Almost tipsy,
laughing good-byes

Backing into blindly
I felt an arm... a moment
guide me
before I all but fall
against you
Knew that warmth
of mass was male

You exhale
I sense your being--
By accidental intimacy
I come unglued
By your flirtatious
catch of eyes
in lowered light
By faint fragrance
of whatever it is
you've drunk or used
to put yourself together

glancing down

Women always look, though
however briefly
Anyone ever been to this pub?  :D
amber Dec 2018
my fingertips are warm...
like i dipped them
into a hot bath
or ran them under
a heated faucet

like you took them
between your hands
and absorbed their chill

but you are not here
and they are warm
from the tequila
Evan Stephens Jun 30
Our thoughts float with gin,
and a little beer.
O darling, let's begin -
our thoughts float with gin,
and soon we're grin to grin
& the night floods with cheer.
Our thoughts float with gin,
and a little beer.
Cathyy Jan 2016
Libras love hard..
Oh you know us Libras love hard sometimes.. And we are quite sensual,
artistic, sentimental..

Just let this time heal,
Let 2016 fix your heart
Oh I know its hard sometimes
But you deserve more days out of the dark..

We started a friendship through a group chat
This time last year who could've ever imagined that?
Well since then; we've been tipsy in a park and in a *** club
& then I crashed your bike into your skateboard..
And I don't normally sleep early or take photos with people, but now I do

So I want to thank you,
For all the impact you've had
'Hope I made you feel the same, too
You've seen me cry when I'm sad
And laugh with all my heart, you..
Always make it hard for me to stay mad..
Whenever you look at me like that

And when you've hurt me, thats okay baby; you could've done worse things..
Just make up for that, by holding me
Until I stop hurting..
And never, let this connection go
I'll wait for you to move on

Oh on every Sunday..
Whether i'm uploading on Youtube or singing on the pavement;
I will remember turnpike lane station,
And to be honest i just used that because it kinda rhymed (****)
As cheesy and dramatic as i may be
I'll always remain by your side.
divinity m Sep 2018
we are floating where the oxygen is thin
high above the clouds
and rising continually higher
with each drag we take
from the small harmless blunt

we are buzzing with the bees
more tipsy than the tulips make them
and getting more dizzy
with each swallow we take
from the burning liquor

we are happier than a blind person
who sees colors for the first time
even though we are losing vision
because we start to view the world
in only thin white lines

we are full of laughs and giggles
as we pump our bodies with more chemicals
than a pump puts gas into a car
because we are much too far gone
as we turn ourselves into a human pincushion.
Mitch Prax Feb 8
I'm feeling weary,
My mind is grey.
I'm already tipsy
and it's only Tuesday.
Jerry Vital Aug 2018
Can I have a little bit whisky?
Just so I can feel a little bit tipsy
In a jiffy

Can I lean on your shoulder?
Like a frightened puppy at the shelter
So I can feel a little bit safer

Can I count on you?
When things in life are feeling so blue
Because I know you will always come through

Can I ask you to be patient with me
When my world is raging sea
And draining all your energy like a flea

Can you be my paragon?
With you around, I could go on.
Without falling off the wagon

Can I be your bro forever?
So we can grow old together
Reminiscing on life wonders we both had to discover
Lazhar Bouazzi Jun 2017
A cabin that had once been white
Stood, peeled, on the shore of Carthage.
Looking like a tipsy scarfaced knight-
Eyes shut to Dionysian carnage.
A pack of lost dogs roamed around it,
Their pangs of want they sought to manage.

The lone cabin stood on the wrinkled sand,
Like a young tree on Shott el Jerid's* white pale
Whom the white monster forced to speak with the hand:
“Basta, no stubborn resistance from me will avail.”

The fuming sun displayed his festival of fear
Over dogs who could handle their thirst no more;
While the salt has now made its white task clear:
Gnawing the sapling and gnawing evermore
Till the sole mark on the Shott shall disappear.

Now the poet who has only half-chosen the vision
Half not knowing what to do, tried to listen
To the trickle of his one obstinate cheer
Oozing through the new orange laptop,
He had purchased from a japanese peer.

(c) LazharBouazzi
“*Shott el Jerid” is the largest salt lake in Tunisia and the Sahara desert, with a surface area of 7OOO km2. As far as the poem is concerned it would perhaps be helpful to say that the gigantic dry salt pan has the shape of a wolf.
Sitting alone with the stars
I wait
For the last minutes of today
to fade into tomorrow
Turning what felt so precious
to memories
I remember the nights spent on the rooftop
caterwauling to the stars
and ache a little more
Everything reminds me of when we
had sock races across the slippery floor
Danced in the sky
fought battles with swords of leaves
Lay underneath a ceiling of blankets
and got tipsy on caffeine
That which cannot be tangible
feels like a knife to the heart
And as I wave goodbye
to the retreating light
tears start to pour from unblinking eyes
I stare motionless as it disappears
into the night
Quiescent as my body shakes from the cold
I cannot feel
Life is full of goodbyes it seems
and nothing lasts forever
But just this once I wish it would
just this once I would turn back time
To have a few more minutes of oblivion
even a few seconds
But time waits for no man
and no man waits for time
That is what you would say, isn't it?
They say that time has no beginning
and no end
But this feels final
this feels like the end to something
I will never have again.

-Esther L. Krenzin-
To Michael, my dear, dear, friend. Who was always there for me, who I cared for so deeply. Thank you for the many laughs we had together. And the many memories we made. I shall treasure them always.
harley rowe May 2018
the sunset has a warm orange hue
and my eyes are stuck to it like glue
i could lie here forever
content in my foolish endeavour  

unable to feel worry
for the first time in forever i feel happy
conscious enough to cry
and sure enough a tear falls from my eye

tipsy is where you'll find me,

looking through the lens of happy
Em Dec 2018
take all these drinks and flavored smoke to make me not feel as low,
but what happens after the tipsy, high, buzz
fades off and I feel lower than before,
it’s an endless cycle of addiction and depression
both will leave me laying on the floor,
either I let all these drugs **** me or I can try for myself once more.
a sixteen year old shouldnt feel she has nothing left to live for.

the christmas tale you don’t hear
Yikes was I sad during Christmas, lol what monster is sad during Christmas
Tipsy on their Labor Day,
in rakia you're swimming.
Through hill's rooms you play,
tipsy on their Labor Day,
a heady plum bouquet,
glass waving, brimming,
tipsy on their Labor Day -
in rakia you're swimming.
All these vast hallucinations,
Stirring nonsense into every word,
Until it all becomes Alien.

Driving me to the point of breaking,
All this in a single fluster,
Drawing me down into the spiraling depth.

Where laughter is only that of the devils,
Even a swift parade of his sinister grin,
Turning even the pink-tinged angel his way.

Taking even the slightest hint of uncertainty,
Twisting every burnt edge until it snaps,
Until there is no confidence left.

Wishing to find myself,
In the tipsy lands of he,
Craving to grasp the meaning of it all.

Giving in to the struggle,
I lay my down my arms,
Accepting the ever constant rip.
Jade Sep 2018
V. Ethereal

Maybe being drunk
is the closest I will
ever get to zero gravity--
to walking on the moon.

My fingers curled
around the neck of a liquor bottle,  
I wander to my bedroom window,
as a tipsy weightlessness settles
amongst my limbs
(and my thoughts).

Swaying slightly,
I part the curtains and,
in my intoxicated stupor,
search for Polaris in the night sky,
point to it,
press a clumsy hand to the glass,
convince myself that
I have captured the star,
and all the omniscient power
it possesses,
beneath my finger tips.

Star light,

{lips pant--

star bright,

{my breath appears a catalyst
as the window pane glazes over
in an impenetrable paroxysm of fog}

first star I see tonight,

{I take a swig,
raise the bottle--
a toast
to the cosmos}

I wish I may,

{Lashes meet in
silent matrimony}

I wish I might,

{Behind closed, desperate eyes,
ribbons of colour dance
towards me in a disoriented jig}

have this wish I wish tonight--

to be
obliterated by the very galaxy
that birthed
these grieving bones
and this tumultuous heart.

Because only then--
as the Gods paint the Night
with the innards of my soul,
acrylic purples
churning against the blackness--
will I become what I
have always dreamed
of becoming:


Don't be a stranger--check out my blog!

(P.S. Use a computer for optimal experience)
Annie Oct 2018
Some nights I feel like
this sadness has made a home
out of my hollow heart.
On a tipsy morning, it woke up
and forgot to leave.
Or maybe it just ran out of places
to exit through.
L B Sep 2018
“Some people are never far away...”

I am thinking this--
bouncing tipsy on pool floaty
at my daughter's new home
in 'burbs of Philly
Sipping wine
on a pool floaty
thinking this--

Sipping wine
in odd peace
on a pool floaty
cool and soft, the water
Cicadas scour the air

...Knowing it's not true....

I had watched them from my porch
leaving –
since the day they came
They –
and the robins too, headed south now
tumbling in their groups
that garble time
that sketch horizon
with a maze of staggered lines
their backs and wings gleam
in golden V
across the sunset

They are honking as they rise, raucous
from river in their flight
My daughters do the same  
Migrating south from Scranton
waving, honking til their cars have turned the corner
out of sight

...on a pool floaty
fully clothed
I watch them
drenched in the darkening sky
tasting salty streams

Intoxicating sounds
their laughter
their voices--
How I love....

cicada droning
in the lush of background green

I will keep this moment clutched
to me
all I have of them
between these moments

I live between moments
of nothing and everything
This week at my daughter's new home-- hottest day of the year.  We hung out in the pool for several hours, enjoying.
Rae Feb 10
blue eyes and blue skies
your white pillow lips
your spider leg eyelashes
and the soft, brown bruises that
tiptoe up my wrist

soft downy, warm skin
a tiny entity in the pale moonlight
purple and yellow
wet and slime and rawness
but empty, flutterless, cooling:
the bare nakedness we created
no longer exists

dribbling words
a tipsy house that leans to one side
gentle breeze and creamy clouds-
mashed potatoes to slather with butter or
the fluid that drips down my leg

asphalt, cold but burning
a right a left
a straight
and i stumble
press a hand to the leftover lump of my abdomen
and turn toward an empty, flickering highway
April May 11
If you were ten years younger, and I were fifteen years older.

I would have my glass of champagne clinked your beer bottle
and whisper to you: “The Tigers will win the next game, don’t worry”.

I would put the carrot cupcake on which I’d had a bite already
on your plate and say: “I want to trade it for the popsicle in your hand.”

I would point at the dazzling lights in the darkness while leaning on the railing
and ask:  “Can your house be seen from the roof?”

I would invite you to an eight-ball when I was tipsy
so you could see my rapt expression and bent-over body
then come next to me and say: "Let me show you how to hold the cue stick."
JAW Jul 29
You look divine
The way you hold the glass of wine
as if it will never spill
Seconds pass and I am under your spell
Pick me like a spring flower
show me there is no hell
Tipsy like the glass slipping from your fingertips
Now its hopeless
The carpet is stained
it started to rain
You give up and go to bed
Without my kiss on the head
Just red on the floor
Was not meant to be poured
A Doubles Feb 6
I'm bottling up all my feelings.
I know you noticed that,
I've been holding back,
There's something inside I'm concealing.
You put me on ice for no reason.
You make my heart stop,
When you pop my top,
I'm bubbling up to the ceiling
I think you know what I mean and,
You know I'm just teasing.
I can't keep it a secret
Grapevine, gettin' too seedy (juicy)
Overtime my soul is primed,
You're so divine
Intoxicating my sober mind
'Til I'm,
Ready to chill for the evening.

Strictly for the VIP
Tipsy when you lean on me
Lipsin' up we don't need a cup
It costs a lot but it's free
I feel like champagne when I think about the love of my life. Everything bubbles up inside of me until the perfect moment.
badtaste May 12
babe just let me in
suppose you're going to
leave me alone on an island again?
to watch you drown
I can't swim.
Just let me kiss
the bottom of your ear
just talk with me
and don't push away
start to let it be clear.
I wanna stay and make  mistakes
and take time to create
wishes with you
when it's dark and cloudy outside
I'd always close my eyes
and it would all come true
to stare at your bottomless blue crystal sea stained-glass.
Dance with me
make me swing
getting tipsy over the dizzy
way of how you sing giving a new feeling
Send me to sleep on a Saturday morning
help me if I get cold
then I'll hum the melody
you always taught me
since the beginning
please hold my love tight and true
cupid's dove
fly away so I can write with my last breathe
an epic conclusion  

grey bathed in black and white are the only colors poets use to write.
Donna Sep 2018
Went to hospital
Man was being sick in a
grey cardboard sick bowl

Holding my breathe can't
inhale smell of sick no no
no..I can't be sick

Walls so white , floor
so shiny , chairs all plastic
Three rows of seating s

Swinging doors let's in
autumns breeze , o no summer
is fading away

The moon looks pregnant
Street lights looking romantic
Moths like falling stars

Can't hear tv speak
Mouths moving , no words come out
Learning sign language!!

Hey nurses take the
sick man in his own room , still
holding my breathe here!!

Me and Dean waiting
Saw a nice African doc
So funny happy

Put Dean at ease , gave
him anti-inflammatory
tablets to ease his

ac injury
on his shoulder , its not a
frozen shoulder...phew!!!

Our youngest daughter
phoned up worried , Friday night
and she all tipsy :))

Lady asleep curled
up on plastic chair , hope she
don't fall on the floor

Limpy man with leg
gets a green card to be seen
People cuddling

Still holding my breathe
I've sank into pure white walls
Man still being sick

Oh no not smelling
his sick no no no! Hey nurse
he needs his own room!
Up hospital with my Dean late last night he was in pain with his shoulder thankfully it sorted now and tablets will ease his pain **
Inspired x
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