Poetry competition CLOSED 1st February 2017 5:10pm
WINNER
JohnFeddeler
JohnFeddeler
RUNNER-UP:
Jade-Pandora
Page:
one Bourbon, one Shot, one Tear
Anonymous
Poetry Contest Description
see below for Comp description
it’s the last call for Alcohol.
your scene is a smokey dingy Bar dive.
you’re Drinking alone
with only your Thoughts
as your Sole Company.
UnLimited Entries
New or Old Poems welcomed
Stick to the Scene, Please
A Pic MUST Accompany the Poem
One Week to Enter.
(example):
at The End of The Bar
Strawberry Fields plays on the jukebox.
I have lost my lust for women
I think,
as I light a match
to light the cigarette
between my fingers
I inhale. . .deep
the smoke casts a haze
over my memories
of what lust once looked like
felt like, tasted like
and regretted like
I exhale. . .long
the smoke casts a haze
in the opposite direction, and
when it clears,
I then remember
what lust once meant to me
and what it means
to the young man
hitting on the pretty brunette
at the end of the bar.
You don't have to go home alone
But you can't fuck here...
I sit
Twisting straw wrappers into tight knots
As great unease gives fury to breathe
Causing my breasts to heave
Thrusting the red straps of my dress
To breaking point
They snap!
And my milky white of titties
Spill cold
And over sticky table top
And Thursdays bourbon
The towns local drunk
Rushes over to suck
Tit or bourbon
She cares not which or whatsoever
And neither do I
The touch feels so nice
Like kittens prickly lap of lick
Suddenly I feel sick
The pang of lonesome is so keen
And the old gals rancid breathe
Hits my flare of nostril
In waves obscene
My bounty comes forth
In time for barkeep to holla...
Last drink and last dolla mamas
Pay up yer tabs
The chicks that remain in this sloppy lesbian heap
All look so cheap
Rushing to hold my hair....
Only the loneliest seem to be left here
My regurgatory sounds
Become The 3 am Blues
The new soundtrack played
While the lonely pay
Their drunken dues
Image at:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems-by/calamitygin/
But you can't fuck here...
I sit
Twisting straw wrappers into tight knots
As great unease gives fury to breathe
Causing my breasts to heave
Thrusting the red straps of my dress
To breaking point
They snap!
And my milky white of titties
Spill cold
And over sticky table top
And Thursdays bourbon
The towns local drunk
Rushes over to suck
Tit or bourbon
She cares not which or whatsoever
And neither do I
The touch feels so nice
Like kittens prickly lap of lick
Suddenly I feel sick
The pang of lonesome is so keen
And the old gals rancid breathe
Hits my flare of nostril
In waves obscene
My bounty comes forth
In time for barkeep to holla...
Last drink and last dolla mamas
Pay up yer tabs
The chicks that remain in this sloppy lesbian heap
All look so cheap
Rushing to hold my hair....
Only the loneliest seem to be left here
My regurgatory sounds
Become The 3 am Blues
The new soundtrack played
While the lonely pay
Their drunken dues
Image at:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems-by/calamitygin/
heartbreak divebar
it’s a divebar down a back alley, it’s where you end up
when the decent joints have barricaded the doors for
the night – the cowardly night that’s getting it’s butt
kicked by the harlequin dawn.
outside, the rain is a concert,
the thunder music & the strobe lights…
the bartender has sad eyes, you feel like
you’re hurting him when you order a cocktail.
he blends me a whiskey sour
but I’m not drinking it –
he offers me his own exposition of loneliness,
but I’m not writing it,
instead I write my love poem on a matchbook cover,
but I can’t sell it, even with a full clip of matches.
maybe I watch the shadows stumble in from the rain,
single file & shivering, & if I watch for another moment, they
will disintegrate like the days & nights of my destitute life…
if my beauty queen is among them, she keeps the collar of
her trench turned up, scarf & dark glasses hiding her anguish.
I conclude that she & I are very much alike: alone & lonely.
yet we maintain a cold distance between each other;
to intrude on someone else’s trouble is asking for one
more slash across the heart.
she has secrets that sleep in another man’s bed –
I embrace my sorrow because it is mine.
the melody of the rain taps a drowsy crescendo,
& we must kiss the evanescent stars goodnight.
the bartender chants, go home, go home –
your ghostly lovers are waiting…
Anonymous
http://wallset.in/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/alone-at-the-bar-android-device-640x360.jpg
Suddenly
She sits at the bar
facing away from me,
her hair deep inlets settling
on ribs, perfectly ringed
I watch as strands cascade
through scarlet fingertips,
she smiles when she laughs
studying a thin-fluted glass
with delicate wrists,
her silver bangles sliding over
in rhythmic return.
I have confined her cheeks
deep into archaic furrows,
her lips a seething reminder
of the warmth felt kneeling
before small mounds,
legs crossed patiently
right over left, softly feathered
in dark corners of this room,
this galaxy; I have made you God
and you are gone,
perhaps never to resurface
walking the dark turmoil
in perfect arches
of spine and breast
a memorial of afterglows,
hymns to my verve.
Suddenly
She sits at the bar
facing away from me,
her hair deep inlets settling
on ribs, perfectly ringed
I watch as strands cascade
through scarlet fingertips,
she smiles when she laughs
studying a thin-fluted glass
with delicate wrists,
her silver bangles sliding over
in rhythmic return.
I have confined her cheeks
deep into archaic furrows,
her lips a seething reminder
of the warmth felt kneeling
before small mounds,
legs crossed patiently
right over left, softly feathered
in dark corners of this room,
this galaxy; I have made you God
and you are gone,
perhaps never to resurface
walking the dark turmoil
in perfect arches
of spine and breast
a memorial of afterglows,
hymns to my verve.
http://i1290.photobucket.com/albums/b536/1willybugger/951_zps3yheyhp0.jpg
HE'S KINDA CUTE
In a bar in Minnesota
I was drinking Pig's Eye Pilsner
When I started to think
That Pig's Eye is sort of pretty
That's when he said to me
'"Kid, when you think
I'm kinda cute
You've had way, way
To fucking much to drink!"
Pig's Eye beer is named after a Minnesota hero Pig's Parent. A considerably ugly one eyed man he was credited with establishing the first bar in the territory.
HE'S KINDA CUTE
In a bar in Minnesota
I was drinking Pig's Eye Pilsner
When I started to think
That Pig's Eye is sort of pretty
That's when he said to me
'"Kid, when you think
I'm kinda cute
You've had way, way
To fucking much to drink!"
Pig's Eye beer is named after a Minnesota hero Pig's Parent. A considerably ugly one eyed man he was credited with establishing the first bar in the territory.
http://i1347.photobucket.com/albums/p703/aragornr/mirrors_face_smaller_zps6zspd4wo.jpg
Mirror's Face
The mirror is now my world
echoing bottles in neat rows
mercenaries ready to deploy
to revelry or pain's quick balm
the former belongs to the past
clinking glass with merriment
as smiles flowed with alcohol
longing wreathed high by smoke
tinge of cig and spill of beer
clothes hard marked by happiness
no longer fit for company
they're only worn for the crowd
it didn't matter in the car
the smell of want filled the air
desire's fragrance in a small space
not meant for passions' quest
finding room to move at will
in order to fill the void
felt in the body thrusting forth
against the rub of steering wheel
another mirror reflected this
not the one above my head
instead the one in the past
saw sweet passion now long dead
coupling was our only sin
taken where the paths did cross
the bar, the car, only that realm
was ours to have, nowhere else
I say that with a twinge of guilt
knowing lies when they are spoke
giving comfort to all involved
veracity I'll not behold
it matters not, that memory
with so many more accompanying
the past deserting present time
with me alone here on this stool
the last song plays in the room
asking for us to consume
the quick balm, I wish it were
I toast the past in mirror's face.
Mirror's Face
The mirror is now my world
echoing bottles in neat rows
mercenaries ready to deploy
to revelry or pain's quick balm
the former belongs to the past
clinking glass with merriment
as smiles flowed with alcohol
longing wreathed high by smoke
tinge of cig and spill of beer
clothes hard marked by happiness
no longer fit for company
they're only worn for the crowd
it didn't matter in the car
the smell of want filled the air
desire's fragrance in a small space
not meant for passions' quest
finding room to move at will
in order to fill the void
felt in the body thrusting forth
against the rub of steering wheel
another mirror reflected this
not the one above my head
instead the one in the past
saw sweet passion now long dead
coupling was our only sin
taken where the paths did cross
the bar, the car, only that realm
was ours to have, nowhere else
I say that with a twinge of guilt
knowing lies when they are spoke
giving comfort to all involved
veracity I'll not behold
it matters not, that memory
with so many more accompanying
the past deserting present time
with me alone here on this stool
the last song plays in the room
asking for us to consume
the quick balm, I wish it were
I toast the past in mirror's face.
RANDOM SHOTS
If I drink craft beer
Will anyone notice
I’m an alcoholic?
Can I buy off sale
If I take it home
In my stomach?
If only my liver
Would agree
With my stomach
Then maybe after
A night of drinking
My brain wouldn’t ache
So damn much
My wife told me
To watch my drinking
That’s why I’m staring
Into the mirror
Behind The bar
Holy Communion
For the forgiveness of sins
Is the only time I ever take a drink
Lord forgive me
For I’m a very sinful man
I was drinking with two girls from Poland
They told me they weren’t into
Typical American orgies
I asked them what they meant
By typical American orgies
One answered
“An American orgy
Is where everyone drinks
And drinks, and drinks
Till they start passing out
The last person standing
Gets to have sex
With anyone they want
Lying on the floor”
(I actually did meet two Polish girls who told me this. I kid you not)
Anonymous
Ouch
! I've been away.
I did no promoting for this comp.
So my apologies.
Will return at end of day to post Winner.
Anonymous
Mr. Feddeler ... this Trophy
is for you!
Miss Sub
&
Miss Jade(y)
cheers as Runner-ups!
Anonymous
Ah, thanks for the runner up nod my dear 
