Liquor Poems - Poems about Liquor

More habit forming than any drug or liquor I considered myself sophisticated and wise, but the addictive power of texting and subsequently sexting took me by surprise, and impossible mission to neutralize despite experiencing scraping rock bottom as emotional lows courtesy accusations from the alewife, nevertheless communication, envisioning, and flirting with a veritable unknown females generates testosterone filled highs diatribes hurled lambasting me despite trying to articulate faux convincing...

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Take a shot from me maybe rum maybe whiskey one sip two bites and a large swag hungry dinner night a quick sip and spinning ryming words that never were laughing at sins all for a date the calender strikes again would You like to dine...

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Time passes slowly when the mind is clear But when the mind gets muddled, like mint in a jar, There never seems enough liquor by far And you tell yourself just one more beer To fill an lonely Saturday night For try as One might The thoughts and trauma nightmares Come creeping with regret...

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A small vial, I’ve nicked it, A bottle of tequila, Aren’t I a delinquent, My heart is racing Against my mind, What a craze To be foolish and hungry, Must be clever, even more cunning, I’ll Regret this forever? Never know ‘till I try… Can’t forget the promise I’m leashed to, Said I wouldn’t again... Now where to? Maybe i’ll just tell him, He’s doing the same kinda, Even last night, He told me...

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I Love the Liquor More My decor, is empty walls, a tv, and one reclining chair The front doors, like a gate to hell, where mem’ries, lie heavy in…the air Each window leaks a breath of hope, but the smokes, got me falling down.. the stairs Is there a message, in those twelve steps, I don’t know, but you...

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Jimmy crack corn I’ve been told. Why would Jimmy crack his corn? It gives kick to liquor bold, makes you wonder why you’re born. Yet, that mean ol’ blue-tail fly makes you want to stay inside. Its bite’s so bad, makes you cry like a love that’s been denied. Jimmy likes liquor it’s true braving nasty bites he gets, goes and keeps that still a’brew, protects...

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Vodka or Scotch, what can I down in the lounge with the rain singing outside? The cool feeling isn't in just the drink. The cool air and the cold ambience, is adding a good touch. There is something else missing that has to make this all complete. Perhaps you can give me an answer to what I think...

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It was kind of late, the town had gone to sleep while some had woke up real early. Nothing bustled, nothing moved quickly, the moon had faded into a dark graveyard. Micky's was open, blue and yellow neon fizzed static in the dewy dark. She was not young but she looked good in cowboy boots. He had not shaved but he looked almost sober in his stained...

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Berenices and Arcturus We're inspired.Hydra spoke new words that tickled there fancy. Creation recreates , creation The sources of which is Sourced. We are the materials with origins Sourced by our own meeting, gathered truths seeding like sourced stones. The things we know and those things we don't know, hyperthermolly speaking. They asked does Booted stand in the Hydras of Ursa's pouring To have us to believe the...

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Feverish red hot Cool as ice liquor shots Turn on air my gosh!...

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The liquor of poetry is sweet... Donates taste to life, moves the ideas, sweetens the mind... Kiss us ardently, offer us love, exults our existence... Savour it, with constancy...! It benefits the soul... !...

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For total optimism, Fill the glass up to the brim, With bourbon, vodka and gin, This is a glass of life, Liquor causes too much strife, Need to look through spiritual eyes, Alcohol I do despise!...

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I will take a goblet of that and two shot glasses of that, sure why not? My eyes will cross twice and fire will come out of my eyes, but it is okay. I am ready to take on whatever torture you have for me; let me have it. I am not afraid of anything today;...

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Foggy never ends over the smallest room Shape of microphone lay in the brown table Waitress busted on and took imperial bottle Commonly appeared in a metrosexual nimble Unwrap whiskey, notice slicing jumbles Used up with joys who teased me in great sable Until my wistful eyes seemed bubbled Under frustration I glup whine with gloom...

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There once was a fellow like me Designed to make love happily But there was a vicar Who said, "You can't liquor Until you can grow a goatee!"...

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