Poetry competition CLOSED 28th August 2016 1:11am
WINNER
Anonymous
Anonymous
RUNNER-UP:
snugglebuck
Whiskey . . . in a dirty glass
http://i1317.photobucket.com/albums/t623/curlycue23/janis.jpg
Whiskey Woman
Your kisses taste like cognac
Your tongue taste like brandy
Your nipples taste of Amaretto
But oh the taste of your pussy
Warm, smooth, sweet, intoxicating
Like Southern Comfort Whiskey
I so want to get drunk on you!
Whiskey Woman
Your kisses taste like cognac
Your tongue taste like brandy
Your nipples taste of Amaretto
But oh the taste of your pussy
Warm, smooth, sweet, intoxicating
Like Southern Comfort Whiskey
I so want to get drunk on you!
Drinking With The Boys
I'm outta smokes
and tired
as tropes
about love
going nowhere
but wrong
so let's play this straight
say what it is
and what it ain't
without commercials
or their fucking catchy songs
What you see
is what I got
and all I want
is company
for the night
or the week
or the month
If you're looking for more
well honey
there's the door
I'm doing just fine
with my friends
quiet ol' boys
that go down
without fuss
keeping me mellow
and making me cuss
here on this stool
as I scare off fools
trying to buy me drinks
with umbrellas
But it's raining men
and I'm drinking 'em in
no matter the name on the label
so if you still want to sit
with me at this table
buy the next round
then sit your ass down
and tell me your name
while you're able
I'm outta smokes
and tired
as tropes
about love
going nowhere
but wrong
so let's play this straight
say what it is
and what it ain't
without commercials
or their fucking catchy songs
What you see
is what I got
and all I want
is company
for the night
or the week
or the month
If you're looking for more
well honey
there's the door
I'm doing just fine
with my friends
quiet ol' boys
that go down
without fuss
keeping me mellow
and making me cuss
here on this stool
as I scare off fools
trying to buy me drinks
with umbrellas
But it's raining men
and I'm drinking 'em in
no matter the name on the label
so if you still want to sit
with me at this table
buy the next round
then sit your ass down
and tell me your name
while you're able
Last sip
In the glass just one sip
the last unturned page
of a narrative moment.
The little before it becomes nothing,
my lips are dry, my voice is haphazard
and it floats.
It smells like a winter dream,
a lasting dormant.
In the room, your hands a surplus,
a need of my body,
you touch me, you adulterate me,
and yet, you are nothing but this little
effigy of thirst, a perfume
in the glass of time, the tallest one.
In the past tense, I set my future.
In the glass just one sip
the last unturned page
of a narrative moment.
The little before it becomes nothing,
my lips are dry, my voice is haphazard
and it floats.
It smells like a winter dream,
a lasting dormant.
In the room, your hands a surplus,
a need of my body,
you touch me, you adulterate me,
and yet, you are nothing but this little
effigy of thirst, a perfume
in the glass of time, the tallest one.
In the past tense, I set my future.
Anonymous
Miss Trix and Artemios, thank you for your entries!
Love and Whiskey
Tease me with your warm whiskey breath
and your ice cold fingers
Whisper to me all the things
you love about my lips
Let my warm hot thighs
try to melt those magic chilly fingers
Talk close to me in that low vice
You know I love
Your sexy eyes know what I crave
your whiskey tongue slowly on me....
Tease me with your warm whiskey breath
and your ice cold fingers
Whisper to me all the things
you love about my lips
Let my warm hot thighs
try to melt those magic chilly fingers
Talk close to me in that low vice
You know I love
Your sexy eyes know what I crave
your whiskey tongue slowly on me....
http://i1317.photobucket.com/albums/t623/curlycue23/blank-white44444_zpsd670a860.png
The ‘J’ Whiskey Gang
Bartender: “What can I get you mam?”
Thirtysomethings Woman: “I’ll take a double shot of Jim Beam; then a double shot of Johnny Walker and double of Jack Daniels.”
Bartender: “That’s a lot of whiskey for one person, mam.”
Thirtysomethings Woman: “My fiancé forever just dumped me and I don’t give a damn.”
Bartender: “Just saying mam, if you drink too much, you’ll get fucked up.”
Thirtysomethings Woman: “That’s the idea. Tonight I want to get gangbanged by the ‘J’ Whiskey Gang. So thanks for your concern barkeep but just bring on the liquid studs, because tonight this girl is gonna get fucked.”
The ‘J’ Whiskey Gang
Bartender: “What can I get you mam?”
Thirtysomethings Woman: “I’ll take a double shot of Jim Beam; then a double shot of Johnny Walker and double of Jack Daniels.”
Bartender: “That’s a lot of whiskey for one person, mam.”
Thirtysomethings Woman: “My fiancé forever just dumped me and I don’t give a damn.”
Bartender: “Just saying mam, if you drink too much, you’ll get fucked up.”
Thirtysomethings Woman: “That’s the idea. Tonight I want to get gangbanged by the ‘J’ Whiskey Gang. So thanks for your concern barkeep but just bring on the liquid studs, because tonight this girl is gonna get fucked.”
Anonymous
Midnight People
Save the introductions
shy smiles, self professed love
in loveless game
midnight resolve of smokey air
Whiskey swirls
iced-silence
crystalline dreams
and, I ache to taste your tongue
by-passing your beautiful lips
thick with history
to lick bitterness of life
irony of belonging
a moment’s time.
You talk but I don’t hear
sound of rain outside drowning
sluiced-lust between my thighs
molesting with naked eyes
save the romantic words, darling
I will not remember in the end
when all it's been said and done
seeping vinegar from a broken cup.
Touch me with cold fingers
boredom on lids
to cry-less pity
with each plunge to the edge
save the kisses for sweet
innocent girl who might
still believe in fairytales.
Save the introductions
shy smiles, self professed love
in loveless game
midnight resolve of smokey air
Whiskey swirls
iced-silence
crystalline dreams
and, I ache to taste your tongue
by-passing your beautiful lips
thick with history
to lick bitterness of life
irony of belonging
a moment’s time.
You talk but I don’t hear
sound of rain outside drowning
sluiced-lust between my thighs
molesting with naked eyes
save the romantic words, darling
I will not remember in the end
when all it's been said and done
seeping vinegar from a broken cup.
Touch me with cold fingers
boredom on lids
to cry-less pity
with each plunge to the edge
save the kisses for sweet
innocent girl who might
still believe in fairytales.
kiss me perilous
bullet for my valentine. death cab for cutie. I wanted those
monikers, make noir poetry out of ‘em, but they were
taken. too bad.
‘a man’s face is his autobiography, a woman’s face is her
fiction.’ Oscar Wilde told me that one night when two bottles
of Crow dropped me right into his lap. when it comes to
dames & drinking, I hold the patent on system of a down.
it was late. I was the last joker in the bar. I went to the cigarette
machine & heard angry voices just behind the office door,
sounded like a doll & a big mean guy. he was about to hit her
maybe, so I busted in.
the doll had the upper hand, it was full of a sinister black gun.
she got three shots off before I could move. the big guy looked
up, past the ceiling where heaven was, then he dropped hard.
when I grabbed the gun, the girl turned & I saw Colette’s face.
she was a hooker that I’d done business with. she always made
it seem real, so I rushed her out the back door to my car.
she didn’t speak till we got to my place. ‘you want to hear my
story?’ she asked. I took a drag off my Camel & regarded her
thru the smoke. ‘you ain’t Dashiell Hammett, baby, you don’t
have a story. I saw you do it.’
she stared at me with the eyes of a desert that refused to cry.
‘you’re a man. you’ve never been raped.’
that was as cliché as Bogart in black&white on a rainy night.
she was a whore & her gateway to paradise was wide open. I
figured it wasn’t possible for a whore to be raped.
she was a cold blooded killer & she was beautiful, her neck would
look good in pearls or a lace collar, but not a noose.
‘help me out, Johnny,’ she said. ‘I can give you what you’ve been
searching for all your life. you can call it love if you want to.’ she
kissed me then, serious, the way a woman does when it means
she’ll never kiss someone else. I kissed her back. I told my heart
to go to hell, & I kissed her.
I gave her the keys to my Stude, money for a train ticket too.
kiss me perilous, baby, there is someone else to be lonely with…
bullet for my valentine. death cab for cutie. I wanted those
monikers, make noir poetry out of ‘em, but they were
taken. too bad.
‘a man’s face is his autobiography, a woman’s face is her
fiction.’ Oscar Wilde told me that one night when two bottles
of Crow dropped me right into his lap. when it comes to
dames & drinking, I hold the patent on system of a down.
it was late. I was the last joker in the bar. I went to the cigarette
machine & heard angry voices just behind the office door,
sounded like a doll & a big mean guy. he was about to hit her
maybe, so I busted in.
the doll had the upper hand, it was full of a sinister black gun.
she got three shots off before I could move. the big guy looked
up, past the ceiling where heaven was, then he dropped hard.
when I grabbed the gun, the girl turned & I saw Colette’s face.
she was a hooker that I’d done business with. she always made
it seem real, so I rushed her out the back door to my car.
she didn’t speak till we got to my place. ‘you want to hear my
story?’ she asked. I took a drag off my Camel & regarded her
thru the smoke. ‘you ain’t Dashiell Hammett, baby, you don’t
have a story. I saw you do it.’
she stared at me with the eyes of a desert that refused to cry.
‘you’re a man. you’ve never been raped.’
that was as cliché as Bogart in black&white on a rainy night.
she was a whore & her gateway to paradise was wide open. I
figured it wasn’t possible for a whore to be raped.
she was a cold blooded killer & she was beautiful, her neck would
look good in pearls or a lace collar, but not a noose.
‘help me out, Johnny,’ she said. ‘I can give you what you’ve been
searching for all your life. you can call it love if you want to.’ she
kissed me then, serious, the way a woman does when it means
she’ll never kiss someone else. I kissed her back. I told my heart
to go to hell, & I kissed her.
I gave her the keys to my Stude, money for a train ticket too.
kiss me perilous, baby, there is someone else to be lonely with…
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Future disaster
It feels weird the ice in the alcohol
is it a religious match or something?
Who thought about that?
Next time I’ll drink a glass of milk
I’ll put inside a big cube of semen
and let’s see if I will get pregnant,
let’s see if the baby will come out to be alcoholic
or just an ass looking for the Milky Way.
And if the sperm will not be cold enough
then maybe I should take out the milk from the glass
and just have my masturbation in a shot.
My dick would love me if he knew
that I am not disgusted anymore
of his jelly happiness, of his future disaster.
It feels weird the ice in the alcohol
is it a religious match or something?
Who thought about that?
Next time I’ll drink a glass of milk
I’ll put inside a big cube of semen
and let’s see if I will get pregnant,
let’s see if the baby will come out to be alcoholic
or just an ass looking for the Milky Way.
And if the sperm will not be cold enough
then maybe I should take out the milk from the glass
and just have my masturbation in a shot.
My dick would love me if he knew
that I am not disgusted anymore
of his jelly happiness, of his future disaster.
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Anonymous
Alice, Miss Vee and Miss Le Fay. . .thank you for entries
! Snugglebuck, John, todski and Artemios. . .thank you for continuing to add to this comp
!
Anonymous
Jack
Old jack was a simple fellow
He liked his women
Like he liked his whisky
Strong and very old
Jack ran a distillery
Way up in the rockys
He had many wives
All with arms like lumberjacks
Jack would swing his whisky
And fornicate until sun down
Oh he loved his whisky
Like he liked his women
Very strong and very old
Old jack was a simple fellow
He liked his women
Like he liked his whisky
Strong and very old
Jack ran a distillery
Way up in the rockys
He had many wives
All with arms like lumberjacks
Jack would swing his whisky
And fornicate until sun down
Oh he loved his whisky
Like he liked his women
Very strong and very old
Anonymous
Thank you for your entry, JayKay
!
