I have some blood in my alcohol stream

[todski28]

A new bar thread to pour out those one night stands
as lady slings the booze
the honey in her throat a crooning siren

or simply a place to curl up in a corner
and nurse your morose thoughts
until they’re ripe with the promise of rain

or if you’re the happy drunk that likes to spin in circles
arms wide screaming weeeeeee at the sky
all are welcome

the doorman’s quite the push over these days

(I wanted somewhere to get blind drunk
spill things all over the floor and not risk being thrown out
for abusing words)

 

[29wordsforsnow]

Martinis mixed by Marina, when
Martina mixed up the Marinade
Martino mixed with the Martian Matriarch

While you might think it's alcohol induced nonsense, a quick scan reveals the real motivation behind it...

XXX

 

[butters]

pour me somethin' long and cold
enough to fill me toe to brow
to chill the burning blood that growls
in turbulent tides that crowd my veins

itsa hot out there


hmn

pour me somethin' long and cold
enough to fill me, brow to toes,
to chill the growling blood—it burns
in turbulent tides that crowd my veins

 

[Enchantment_of_Nyx]

Frighteningly real.

 

[todski28]

Frighteningly real.

Hopefully with an edit it reads a bit cleaner spelling mistakes and what not, too much haste to write not enough time to write it properly

 

[todski28]

pour me somethin' long and cold
enough to fill me toe to brow
to chill the burning blood that growls
in turbulent tides that crowd my veins

itsa hot out there


hmn

pour me somethin' long and cold
enough to fill me, brow to toes,
to chill the growling blood—it burns
in turbulent tides that crowd my veins

I’ll have what she’s having....

Sounds delicious anyway

 

[Piscator]

Frighteningly real.

and really frightening

 

[butters]

electricity oscillates
runs rampant as if alcohol is a super conductor
and we're the circuits linking it together
arcing from one to the next
until we vibrate the same frequency
the same harmony
tuned to her voice

we the silent rabble
await the next note
to play
we try to fill the empty ambiguities
that dance a moment before heading toward the
next high
the tune's amplified
at hundreds of metres a second
a crashing wave of awestruck lightning
sparks a note within the collective

goose bumps raise on work hardened flesh
muscles torn and tensed through hours
of back breaking labour
ease as the inebriation
hits another layer

men don't feel anything the world whispers

but I feel
the cold glass in my hand
its liquid cool and refreshing
a layer of sanity added as I pour in a dose
of anaesthetic

terra-firma beneath the layers of rubber
and steel capped toes grounding me
as I helplessly sway

the bar holds me
my forearms indented with mahogany
the pain a dull nothing
as I float on the strained cry of her

finally the wet of my eyes
as all those things I don't feel
leak out

and in a hushed breath
we are the silence

freakin wonderful writing, all of it

especially liked the final 3 strophes

so rewarding to read you

 

[butters]

out the ballpark, tods

 

[todski28]

out the ballpark, tods

Pistol Annie’s I feel a sin coming on inspired this piece, and for what it’s worth that first line when she sings it just damn near kills you, especially if you’ve got good head phones in,

And before this year country music was no my thing!
I was listening to this as I wrote it, took three times through to get it finished, maybe try listening when you read see if it makes it any better


https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=XltvfXeN5KY

 

[Lyricalli]

out the ballpark, tods

I very much agree with this.

Pistol Annie’s I feel a sin coming on inspired this piece, and for what it’s worth that first line when she sings it just damn near kills you, especially if you’ve got good head phones in,

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=XltvfXeN5KY

And with this. There are different types of country music, and that's some of the good stuff, so I approve heartily. I like where it took you.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

It's hot dammit,
almost too hot for those
sweaty embraces
that leave us breathless
with desire.
Love oozing from every pore,
as a finger tip traces
a line from nape to nipples
waiting erect and wanting
and as your lips find
these tempting morsels,
I whisper "Please, my darling".
again I'm begging " Please."

 

[todski28]

The sweet taste of kerosene
and the draw of a hand rolled
cigarette
cold comforts of sad music
on the dancing machine
curl around my loss and try to nurse it
the way a mother clings to her stillborn

wishing there was a way to take it back
to undo the harsh reality
and the lit match
but
burning bridges and crying over corpses
is a family tradition
another slug of the bottle because
I crushed the glass to feel it’s shards
slide into my hand
so I could hold its puckered flesh to the reader of palms
ask if my future has as much blood on it
as my past

now

even alcohols burn doesn’t have the same kick
desolate wastelands are the new rage
a holiday destination for the broken
because addiction tastes like the litany of lovers
I no longer covet
the bottle only lets me down when it’s empty
and I only let it down when I’m not drinking
it’s a relationship forged on easy
where all goals align
there’s no looking for a sign of betrayal
or loss
or the threat of negotiating when and where you can
see your kids

the only thing that matters is the shape of her
the flavour of her
and how she lets me silence
the droning monotone of responsibility
barking it’s demands in the screeching tones of
a jilted lover a nagging wife and a total bitch
whose only goal is to beat you down
with the emotional shackles of your
fucking male privilege

and if it wasn’t the easy way out
I’d take these shards of glass
and run my pain out
all over the floor
lie in it’s warmth
and wait to drift off to sleep
but that would be a waste of alcohol

 

[Piscator]

Powerful, sad and scary. Makes me glad I've never tasted kerosene.

I really liked your sequence of cold c's in the first verse, which set the tone of the piece as does the omission of the cliched 'child "after stillborn.

cigarette
cold comforts of sad music
on the dancing machine
curl around my loss and try to nurse it
the way a mother clings to her stillborn

 

[todski28]

Powerful, sad and scary. Makes me glad I've never tasted kerosene.

I really liked your sequence of cold c's in the first verse, which set the tone of the piece as does the omission of the cliched 'child "after stillborn.

edited out the word child, agreed with your assessment, was trying to make it have the sound undertone of a ticking clock, but I don't know how well it works.

thanks for the comment

 

[todski28]

I taste the hypocrisy in the burn of spirits
as your fingers trickle down my shirt front

I swallow my drink and revel in the flavour
of power in this dynamic
as if I’m clay in your palms

the fact that I could crush your larynx with minimal effort
is as hilariously inconsequential as the fact that my wedding ring
is a promise made to another woman
it’s weight cutting into my finger
my children’s smiling faces are nothing
as your glossy lips
brush the stubble of my cheek

here I stand five drinks in
on a ledge

Reject this woman in the wrong way
and she could easily destroy me
give in to the promise her eyes are making
and blow up my entire life

And so I chuckle at my maleness
at my power and privilege
at my strength and size
and it all means fuck all
if the wrong woman sets her sights on me

but I guess these thoughts are nothing more than
misogyny
I should shut up
drink my drink like a good boy
and take my destruction
like a man

 

[todski28]

you aren’t writing for anyone but your ghosts

an exorcism is best performed
with voodoo enchantments
blades and blood
dripping down crucified palms

if only it were easy
to tear out black
but light creates shade
and I can’t bare the thought
of forever bright
so I bite my tongue
till it bleeds
write a litany of things
I wish I could say to the fractured parts
of my shattered bones and find
it’s far easier to drown
the sound of sorrow in a glass
than to try and piece it back together

a jigsaw puzzle cut out
with blunt blades and an alcoholics
trembling pain

I try to align
the left and right
with a centre that’s nothing
but holes
find that another drink is better company
than those things that haunt me still

 

[todski28]

The raucous pub goers drill down into
my molars with their guttural braying

I find It’s hard to digest a point
when decibels of blades hack through fake wood
the way we churn through a liars nest of news
about unrest seeded in
timbres of pearl clutching
before swine

I wonder how presidential
the guy running the subway underpass would be
when he doesn’t have time to
play political games mired in
politically correct double think
and triple speak
mired in a tirade
of hyper observance to
partisanship
a theatre of the macabre
displaying the machinations
of the intelligencia
whose only goal
is to produce
stupid ideas that offer
mealy mouthed tributes
to the starving

they say the truth will set you free
but we’re all chained in
fake wood
being cut by liars
postulating behind
an outstretched palm
and plastic smiles
trying to stop us from
thinking free

My point being..:. I forget
pour me another drink
I shout out
forcing myself to be heard over the din
causing a case of indigestion

 

[todski28]

Destiny is scrawled into the ochre
stained pine
cheap wood rolled in glitter
to try and cover how fake it all is
promises that disappear
an exhalation of tobacco and bad voodoo

somehow the breath in
burns twice as bad
cold fresh air
watching crows circle

trying to decide if I can look this life in the eyes
every bad decision is scribed in my bones
etched in deep as arthritis
whiskey shots take the edge off

her arms curl around me
a soft promise of momentary
forget
of something more than this life
that seems to be dealing junk cards
and no win situations

every lie tastes like bile
and doubles its interest each
bite

 

[Lyricalli]

Swear it will be the last
and pour another glass
when the bottle finds my hand

Every day starts with an ache
I try all night to drive away
your name on my lips
mingling with 80 proof whatever
that barely dulls the pain

Even darkness can't free me
waking from blackout dreams
the fading echo of your laughter
mocks my stupidity

Hyper monkeys pound drums
in my head
my stomach churns
to purge my sins

Cold tile and acid bile
offer no distraction
from your absence

But, it's worth a try

And tonight I'll just be trashed
again

 

[29wordsforsnow]

bloody for weeks

Now I dried to intoxicate
myself with water, coffee and see
the moods still swing from rights to rides
and days end up in mixed up nights
clarity hasn't changed a lot, but
to me it's vodka-clear, it's not the drinks
but the drinker that stings

 

[todski28]

Now I dried to intoxicate
myself with water, coffee and see
the moods still swing from rights to rides
and days end up in mixed up nights
clarity hasn't changed a lot, but
to me it's vodka-clear, it's not the drinks
but the drinker that stings

Sorry Snow, I didn’t notice this but I’ll raise a glass to it, thanks for the drinks

 

[todski28]

Hugging my father used to feel like
grabbing a wild animal
by the tail
smell of beer, whiskey and blood
beneath cheap cologne

the sound of my heart
pounding against my chest
because love was metal laced
split lipped and demanding
to be acknowledged

even if it meant my brothers teeth
smashed against my knuckles
or the sound of his anger because
I was stronger and he couldn’t
break my grip on his wrist

Of the time his knee split my nose
and instead of crying it enraged me
and I blasted him with
blow after blow
to the side of the face
till he was concussed
and bleeding from
the ears

my father raised my hand as if in victory
while my brother lay on the floor
and the bitter blow
of winning was like a knee to the face
and being torn in half

and as this last drink settles
my brother screams abuse
everyone didn’t get
why he was attacking me
but I knew
because I was taught
to celebrated his pain

 

[29wordsforsnow]

Hugging my father used to feel like
grabbing a wild animal
by the tail
smell of beer, whiskey and blood
beneath cheap cologne
...

That's harsh reality distilled - rough on your tongue, and hard to swallow, burning all the way down.

 

[MetaBob]

todski28, this is good, and raw, and vital, but a few things could be better. Some are opinion, others need fixing:

because love was metal laced -> because love was metal-laced
split lipped and demanding -> split-lipped and demanding
my brothers teeth -> my brother's teeth
to celebrated his pain -> to celebrate his pain