Alcohol poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of alcohol poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on alcohol are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
She was screaming. I don’t know who that she is. But that she was screaming ’cause, the bleeding won’t stop. The blood was pouring out in the form of clots, and the alcohol and pills were doing a great job.
Were alcohol to be available only with prescriptions, imagine what would happen to the alone & the broken hearted? Each moment of loneliness and every second of pain, would have to be accounted for, and measured in units of spirits.
If not for that pitcher of ugly beer, We’d never have been in love. You for once would never have Made sense of my drunken chatter. Nor I found your stubble anything to Die for, considering how they prick My
why walk when you can ride, she said the bus on fire the upper deck peeled back and dragging the asphalt laughing with the driver, trying to steal his hat then searching in her seal-skin purse for half a roll
Bloodshot eyes in heads so wise, they queued outside the door The men whose work began right there, at Tommy’s on the moor. Hands thrust deep in pockets to betray the shaking bones Of weather-beaten fingers whence they laboured sand
They came tired and torn, weary and worn They came male and female, straight and gay They came high and hooked, homeless and hungry They came addicted to alcohol, drugs, and crime They came for one last try, for freedom
To cleanse the dirty body of just born baby we need Water To fulfil our daily chores for cleaning the self we need Water To quench thirst we need water To prepare Coffee/Tea we need water To prepare food we
This is a delicate porcelain, but, she was broken… Love Crime— The Humanity Prejudice（Encounter In Masquerade） Split emotion, rupture thoughts, Tragic is melted in prejudice, Disguisers of Beast in human form, as cruel as ice, Mercy is tearing, mask is
Running from something better to leave it unnamed cold water muddy stream, convenience food wrappers in a kind of marketing survey, neons washed out pink and peach among moss wet rock and metal bridge stanchion rising a splayed hipbone from
I know it’s hard, I know it’s rough. To put the bottle down and say that’s enough.Just one more sip, it’s all I need. Feeling like shit, it’s hard to breathe. Violently shaking, I start feeling sick. Body silently aching.
One womb Snip it One shame Snip it away Umbilical residue Stains the birth Of a sinister soul That won’t be tamed His tears of hunger Venomous Burn his mother’s skin The incipient evil Amplifies and flourishes Having inherited it
Guess what I am writing about? A strange phenomenon of recent times. Bright and Colorful, depicts interesting times… Takes off the monotony, a peep into lives… Success epics , someone’s frustrations galore, Wise ones’ words repeated, in circles of lore!
(Certain meanings of hindi language words: Mantra: Hymn, Prayer Brahmin: A priest Kalyug: In Hindu mythology as a time of evil, decadence, and untruth; here used metaphorically, comparing our time to that of Kalyug. Srishti: The Universe abhaas: Intuitive feeling,
Count it my pleasure to behold your eyes, As my future therein, I used to see, None as wondrous did nature yet devise, That was endeared by half as much, to me; The special twinkle that there so I find,
Like moonless sky waiting for the next sunrise Am waiting for the day,you could see me I feel you in my soul Since when I started loving you Realized you are my life and destiny Since then I never felt
When we’re born, we’re born into darkness. Only seeking earthly desires, seeking to be fulfilled by temporary things. But then, You began that walk of life with me. Everywhere I looked with my young eyes, You were always there right
The day will come, When there will be no more Racism. I hope this day come soon, because I’m sick of being discriminated. It’s like because of my skin color I’m automatically hated. The color of my skin doesn’t define
Oh, selfie! who art thou? neither a ruler nor a pauper is spared from thy charm besotted are they with you in perpetuum forgetting tormenting woes even if for a blink alluring them as no one can! But I shudder
Grasshopper basking in the warmth of the sun Upon a rock. Slithering through a maze of alpine wildflowers looking for a likely sized creature to capture and feast upon saphonsifying her hunger. After secretly searching for near a mile Snake
Sunlight streaming through the window The curtains fluttering in gentle breeze Scented sheets scattered around the desk Me, seated with my feet aloft my chair Pen in mouth, mind lost in thought A faraway look in my eye. A letter
Chains remain chains till the time they are token Of all love and affection by staying knitted well But when hatred overtakes they stand broken Then love no more aspires to dwell in hell In the darkness of quagmire of
They weren’t as bright as they used to be, Slowly chipping off the wall Faded and dying In the form of broken crumbs Of coloured plaster. Intricately separated by a line of black Throughout their lives They realized their lifelong
Back in those old days, a wife awaits her husband on a stormy night, hoping for his safe return. .. Waiting for her love, an enigmatic sailor. In vain gowns and a luscious healthy pallor! The porch, radiant in jewels
One crisp scaffold. Was it possible that it became generous? For the street which turns the mutation into xenograft. I pretend to be which I am not for fear of dying daily or sleep no more in the lineage of
Wading in your memories. Through an orange smoke. Against a mirror, a lake shrinks. Days are smaller now licking the night I will count the candles Of your birthday. A haunted landscape scoops a wedding of a flame with a
Well I love Tennessee, the mountains, the rivers and the valleys. Knoxville, Chattanooga and Nashville. But Memphis is a disaster Waiting to happen again like it did in the late 19th century when the New Madrid first made its presence
When age comes between You and your Prospects Choose Prospects Forget your age Which may be on the high side So many elders have done a lot Written a lot Gone to many places When such being the fact Why
Murky was my soul, she came in like a sunshine, We walked on a clone aisle, our lives were divergent, ‘tween my acumen and wisdom, she was the skyline. Lost in her thoughts, omnipresent was her sight, Falling in love