Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Cné Jan 2018
~
Him
sits in an arm chair
slouched and relaxed,
watching her
with a glass of whiskey
in his hand

~
Her
lays on the bed
naked, long legs spread
watching him
watching her.
~
Him
asks her to do
what he had
been dreaming of
even before seeing her naked.
Beautiful scenery

~
Her
strokes light and feathery, at first
delicate fingers tracing
up and down
while the other hand
on her breast
tipping her nip
~
Him
mesmerized by the show
he takes a sip of whiskey
the burn does not compare to
the burn growing in his pants

~
Her
dips a finger inside,
spreading the glistening liquid
found across her inner lips
increasing the pressure
and moving from side to side
~
Him
doesn’t know where to look
as she concentrates
on her ******,
pulling at the tip
she gnaws her bottom lip
he settles on her eyes

~
Her
picks up speed,
the circles of her fingers
smaller and smaller,
focusing on her pearl
shallow breaths growing rapid
as she nears her peak
~
Him
slips out of his shirt
he starts to sweat
unbuckling his pants
to release
the growing pressure

~
Her
tilts her hips
finding the optimal position
to intensify her pleasure
~
Him
holds his breath
to hear the
gasping of her breath

~
Her
eyes on him, longingly,
back arches,
head falls back
and lips part
“Oh God”
in heavy breath
~
Him
“Amazing”
whispers unsure he said it aloud

~
Happy **** Day
writerReader Apr 2015
"I'll have a whiskey,
****** ale on the side."
is what he says
i don't even thinks he know
what the reference is
Sebastian Macias Mar 2017
If you've felt the floor
At the bottom of your cave
After falling 40 feet
Blood across your lips
Body slammed across
The field of rocks and dirt
Unable to move
Days go by slower
All you can hear are screams
As you shut your eyes
If you've been there, my friend
You've felt the thirst
Which nothing can tame
It's in the air at night
In your bones at light
The eyes are majestic
The feeling is soft
And your veins are cold
It is all you want
To reach out and take it
Ravage it over and over
As it asks for more
******* out the life
And breathing into yours
It drives you mad with frenzy!
Rushing all over your body
And you can't stop till
You've had enough
Floating away with the waves
Waiting to come back for more
Kagami Jun 2017
The source of my sorrow
Has been resurrected
Along with the memories I had buried.
Everything before you was buried,
But the burn of whiskey
Has robbed every grave I created;
Truths brought back by the
Numbness of my lips and
Willingness of my neighbors ears.
Robert C Ellis Aug 2018
My pan seared pancreas excision
Brazed, flush with a mint gin rub
delighting my heart with kaleidoscope
In a pulsating chum of blood
I douse with Sherrie and ignite;
Masterpiece,
My dreams sear and blend
Jesus Christ, this poetry bleeds
Through
My breath recedes
the ghost of this moment

is me

Removed
Sebastian Macias Mar 2017
She howled late at night
Whispering secrets to me
Through the winds
Eyes glowed in the dark
The blanket of light above
Pitch black 5 feet away
Up close, all too real
It's cold tonight, I thought
Whiskey in the fire
A table full of dreams
A book shelf of the dead
A wild path in the rain
Even the river we will cross
With bare feet and sore eyes
Becoming part of her
Becoming part of it all
Cné Dec 2017
From below
Desire climbs
Up the channels
Of my mind
Shot of whiskey
Glass of wine
Now the ladies
Are looking fine
From the top
Going down
Love strikes fast
When I'm around

From within
My idle mind
Sparks a flame
Of desire design
A shot of whiskey
A glass of wine
Now all the men
Are lookin fine
A little flirt
A little smile
I think I’ll stay
A little while
....

Traveler Tim
& Cné
Madison Jul 2018
Do you remember the time we danced
Late in night, hand in hand
Our feet cold against the wood
I would forget it all if I could

Do you remember all our rides
Driving with no point late in the night
Windows down, wind in hair
I still do, and baby it isn't fair

So I drown our memories
With a bottle of whiskey
But when I have one too many
They all come back at once to hit me
As long as I have just enough
I can forget about you for once
So bottoms up baby
Cuz you've already forgotten about me
So bottoms up, bottoms up baby

All the mornings I woke up next to you
Comfy in bed not wanting to move
All the nights under the stars
Staring at the ocean from afar

All the I love you's that left your lips
As you pulled me closer by the hips
I remember every little thing
And the tears, they always sting

So I drown our memories
With a bottle of whiskey
But when I have one too many
They all come back at once to hit me
As long as I have just enough
I can forget about you for once
So bottoms up baby
Cuz you've already forgotten about me
So bottoms up, bottoms up baby
j.w.
CK Baker Oct 2017
dust cloud heavy
in an apricot sky
cottonwood mucker
under ambrose pale
whippet and shepherd
mill at the earth patch
yellow birch hangs
over red bench park

combine shavings
in crack rust brown
scissors chips
fall to the back stop
whiskey jack looters
sing patented chords
siblings (and 2 wheel enthusiasts)
give thanks

joyous retrievers
master the criss cross
bare maples stand
at settlers way
barred owl and blue jay
whistle the fore-wind
ghosts
and goblins
pull at the seeds

wind gusts belt
over the west gulch
blood rush churns
in a chilling fall morn
hallowed grounds still
at the midday
quiet reflections
of the afghan
and hound

jumpers unite
at the oxbow
route runners bend
(on a sultry foray!)
meadows exposed
in the framework
ball park empty
with pennants past

barrel dirt favors
the brew house
crimson and copper
find bracken ridge gate
harvest hands savor
the honey and hops
blankets of color
for a winter's hatch

brush fire kept
under steady peruse
bark bites fly
and embers glow
pine cones drop
from timber tops
3 wick candles
set the dinner place

shiver and ******
at the piper's call
cob web dew
on shadowy gates
a chilled mist mellows
the season's return ~
poets and artists
and dreamers awake
TW Nov 2018
I am a writer who hates whiskey.

I feel that I should love it like a writer's only friend,
Like I should sip it from a glass while I scribe with broken pens,
Like I should clink the ice against the sides and swirl it, deep in thought,
And take it neat and raw, in admiration of its steely course.
It should lubricate the mind and guide the flow of words to page,
And since a nervous age I've yearned to say I love the way it burns and maims,
And maybe on a certain day, I'll glug it without choking, breathless,
But for now it hurts my brain to even think about its... smokey wetness.

I've idolized an archetype, a writer with a harmful life,
Sit alone in bars at night, lament the fact that art is strife,
But recently I'm thinking more, and honestly, this can't be right,
I love the pen and paper, and I love the fact it's hard to write.
It's the way that I've romanticized it, fantasized and glamorized it,
Like I could just forget about a novel, let Jack Daniel's write it,
While I sat and focused on my magnum opus, penning parts of it in prose,
I viewed my present like it's hindsight, through glasses tinted rose.
Cné Mar 2017
Shiny flask full of fun,
Shall I fill it with whiskey or ***
Wanting only to refresh my day,
Maybe with coconut from Parrot Bay?

After all, it's my best drinking buddy
That always makes me witty and funny
With never a shout, cry or pout,
That is, until the whiskey has run out!
Doh... Can't drink all day, if you don't start in the morning. It a ****** Mary morning.
MeanAileen Jul 2018
When I look into your eyes
I see more than just brown...
I see pools of dark chocolate
in which I want to drown.
Like shots of aged whiskey
they intoxicate me-
I forget all my troubles
and for a moment, I'm free.
They make me feel warm,
so safe and secure.
No longer a sinner-
they make me feel pure.
They're the color of sugar
when caramelized,
with a devilish charm
that has me mesmerised.
Much like the earth
drenched in rain-
with unstoppable force
they now flood my brain.
To be lost in their depths
is where I long to be...
but those perfect brown eyes
were never meant to see me.
I love his eyes
Silverflame Aug 2018
my old futile dreams
make the windows all misty
ripping up the seams
blood mixed with ancient whiskey

a smile around the corner
lures the naive mind
******* up the world order
another death wish signed

overhead, brick by brick
the november wind stands still
heart oozing of homesick
empty thoughts keep my glass refilled

delusions cover my sight
faraway lights blink with eager
fixing the crooked night
dinner with the grim reaper
A poem I wrote last year, which I someone managed to delete with my clumsy fingers.
Shades On Dec 2018
I treat this town like it's a cancer
Like movin' on is the only answer
My roots obstruct the exit way
You and I both know there's nothing left to say

I am making my daring escape
I'm sneaking out, my world I reshape
I sneak through the door, don't distract
I'm looking forward, never looking back

Our dreams like whiskey, better with time you see?
Rush the drunk, it's not the same
There ain't no heaven, not in this world
I wish you were begging me to stay

One day I'll write a letter
Just to let you know I am doing much better
Maybe I'll pick up the telephone
I don't know why, no way you'll let me come back home

Our dreams like whiskey, better with time you see?
Rush the drunk, it's not the same
There ain't no heaven, not in this world
I wish you were begging me to stay
Next page