Drinking

Trying to Re-Create the Dodo

Trying to re-create the past piece by piece

Putting on the same music

Talking about the same moments

Drinking the same brand of beer

Same people

Sitting in the same places

Pulling out personalities from back then

But when attempting this impossible trick

Nothing ever feels quite the same

And it’s not

The air is not the air

The memories are memories and not the moments

The music is not fresh but dusty and stale

The people are formed

The places set 

Personalities past and shaped

There is always an uneasiness when the trick inevitably fails

A failure on the part of all involved

Unable to conjure preferred past

It happens eveytime

All around the world

In living rooms

In Bars

In Attics

In Basements

At Kitchen Tables

In Backyards

In Fields

Try to hang on

It is slippery

It is a ghost

It is gone

Only to exist in memory

And when memory starts to fade

It will vanish

Like the dodo

 

 

 

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Coffee

An object warm and white,

Cup-like with a handle at its side.

Halfway filled with a liquid,

A liquid with a name,

Its name being coffee.

 

Eager am I to hold this cup,

Equally eager am I to drink

From its rim which my lips shall touch.

Slowly yet quickly I do tilt the cup

And the liquid pours into my mouth.

 

The liquid's bitter taste,

Yet sweet and warm it is.

Satisfying is the taste,

So gleefully I do drink more

And indulge myself in this sweet galore. 

 

Freely does the liquid

Move around in my mouth

As it plays with my tongue

Tickling its taste-buds.

Around and between my teeth it goes

'til I move it back with my tongue

To the back of my mouth

Where the coffee meets its doom.

Down my throat it goes,

The aftertaste the same as before.

My thirst craves evermore,

Thus I drink some more.

 

Regrets

My only regret is not hugging you that night, 

not attempting to beat you at beer pong, 

not moving a little closer when we were both freezing,

not letting you know how adorable you looked,

not telling you how ecstatic I was that you showed up...
 

I just hope that through that simple goodbye

you knew what I was thinking, 

and maybe you, too,

had the same regrets.

Mother's Tears.

Folder: 
D. E. A. F.

Are like scalding hot drops,

of melting metal.

They sear their way through my skin.

I cannot bear the sight of her tears,

So I turn my back and walk away.

And let her cry.

So she drowns her tears.

In Brandy, Vodka, Rum,

And Wine Coolers.

So do I...

I wait

Sadly

In the darkness

until she is too drunk to notice.

She sleeps.

And I crawl from my hotel room bed.

Into the bathroom

and drink.

The scalding liquid like fire...

Like Mother's tears.

And then I fill it with water,

shake the bottle

Hope

she won't notice.

Then I lay down and

Listen

To the sobs from my mother's soul.

Though she remains asleep she still

Cries.

Does she cry because of

Me?

Or does she cry for

Me?

Or does she simply cry because she

Knows

that I have become like her

Drowning my sorrows

In scalding liquid

That tastes of

Mother's Tears.....

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Its about a mother and Child who both drown their demons in the same way.

All that matters is that it makes you FEEL something at least so yead....Enjoy and Comment

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Dear Drunk Driver

Folder: 
D. E. A. F.

Dear Drunk Driver,

  You may not know my name,

  You may not know my face.

  But your car will soon strike my body,

  And it shall take me from this place.

My blood will cloud your windshield,

My bones will crack like glass.

Of all the faces my eyes have seen,

Yours may just be the last.

  I'm not sure if I will live,

  I've never had that much luck.

  Remember me the next time you drive,

  I can only hope my message stuck.

My family they will miss me,

I never even said goodbye.

And because you decided you can drive,

They may just watch me die.

  I know you think it wasn't much,

  you had to drink that night.

  If you are so sure of that,

  Why was my body clouded from your sight.

I do not want to die, Drunk driver.

I think i am too young.

How can you end my life so quickly,

when its only just begun.

  So before you say it is safe,

  That you didn't have alot to drink.

  Remember my broken and battered body,

  I hope it makes you think.

Sincerely,

A dead body.

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Just Passed Heaven

Down at the bottom where the darkness sleeps,
there's wayward souls and they're reaching for me.
Beneath the surface where the Devil reigns,
he's eying me up and he's fitting my chains.

Just passed heaven, I'll be drunk at the bar.
Tell Saint Peter I can't get in that car.
There's broken angels calling out for a tune,
Cause lord knows heaven don't got the blues.

Christ don't judge me, hell, he just understands,
he splits old wounds and I drink the blood from his hands.
Compare the broken hearts that we wear on our sleeve,
He says he'll heal me if I'll only believe.

But the devil wants me on the road that he paved,
makes a living on the souls can't be saved.
Wine is fine, and even better when free,
But Satan's a whiskey man, just like me.

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Drowning in strong waters

Thinking outside the box
has never been so difficult
taking shots of scotch
to see if it makes me lyrical

to be a father at 26
its going to take a miracle
so I cop my daily fix
for two decades its been my ritual

and in a way
it feels like a sacrifice
communicating with spirits but not
ones from the afterlife

family begging me to change
before I end up begging for change
from every passerby
that passes by

the bottle talks to me
sells itself quite convincingly
the voice behind it telling me
that I should come willingly

and the way
I’ve been feeling lately mentally
makes that offer sound
tasty and interesting

I’ll water down the drinks
and take one shot to the head
But one leads to the next
its been weeks since
I’ve gave my kidneys a rest

don’t tell me I shouldn’t be so hard
on myself I could had been a star
and now I’m staring
at those dreams from afar

the doors that use to be ajar
are now closed
wow that feeling that flowed in my veins
has stop

cause those same veins
are now clogged
thinking of me
in my heyday its odd

my vision on seeing the big payday
was robbed
and now I do like most people and say
how I hate my job
so I pray to God
I don’t end up sleeping in a vacant lot

it’s a weakness a bet
I'm betting against
and failing just gets me upset
so here’s another shot
for bailing on success........

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I've had my struggles here and there with drinking, usually in time of problems or is it the alcohol itself creating the problems? For what its worth, I'm doing better now. The occasional glass of wine is usually sufficient.

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Anti smoking

Its upto you, to be a deaf,
I will be shouting till my last breath.
Its upto you, to follow the trend,
I have seen the ugly end.
Its upto you, to slip down the slope,
still there is a small window of hope.
Its upto you, to quit smoking,
stop this nonsence and start thinking.
Its upto you,to take my words
I know words will be heard.

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Scabbard

calloused hands and chapped lips to sip frothed tipped gold
heat blackened laced brown with foreign glaze
ripped down the seams with incredible pace
if hatred was the motive then it’d eventually stop cold
replaced with creation and moved on down the road
handsome lipped toothless grin and handshakes for miles
but social inadequacies never kept anyone down, why him?

tripping tipsily down another alley, fences allies and a guide home
effervescent, another descendent of addiction
lit sticks drown the lungs of our lonely hero
malice never on the tongue, just bruises from the waltz
of walls and women, proud and timid again, fortune halts
bathed in light and trapped in the middle,
born again but just too late, too little
but what waits gains nothing, and he laid bait for luck
so give him a few minutes and he’ll capture and cut.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i'm new and feel i need direction, feel free to dig in, i need the criticism

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