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Alcohol induced poetry

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#1
Just a few poems, written out of boredom, and created through the looking glass of Jack Daniels, coke, and a few ice cubes.

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Although, this is a dark bit of poetry, it still has a very strong underlying “moral” to it.
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Becoming nothingness

Guilt of a former life overwhelms his emotions, his thoughts
Remembering who he was, seeing who he is, and who he could be,
All to him has been lost, his crimes paid for at a crippling cost
Mentally fading, no longer finding comfort in the little hope he sees
Haunted by his actions, tormented by memories of roads crossed
Searching for redemption, and forgiveness, he awaits his chance to flea,
Flea from the trappings of his past, from the confinement of being lost.

He wants to start over, but knows not what to do, nor where to start
Being overpowered by his confusions, he no longer knows anything.
Negativity surrounds him, controls him, flings him as if he was a dart
Gliding through the air, towards the board of insanity, to which he will cling.
He’s struggling to keep his mind clear, it’s useless, he’s falling apart.
He no longer cares, no longer feels, no longer a puppet controlled by emotional strings.
He transforms from a man with nothing but pain, to an empty shell, cold, and dark.
No hopes/dreams, he becomes a face of nothingness, dark his light, winter his spring.

Alive without really living, in a sense, he only exists
Just one more lost soul, drowning in a self-created abyss
Built with bricks of pain, and self-pity, stuck together by doubt, and confusion
His downfall being his own thoughts, he suffered a horrifically harsh conclusion


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Unlike the first, this one has no real “moral” to it. Written in a completely different form, this was just boredom at its worst.
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A day remembered

It’s a shame what happened
He just couldn’t cope
The minutes she died
He lost all hope

It’s crazy, but in one day
His happiest, and saddest moments
Became one and the same

They meet in high school
Both only seventeen
He was football star
She was homecoming queen
Neither one had even known love
Nor how beautiful it could be
Until they shared their first kiss
One fateful day in spring

Five years, and countless memories later
They decided they would be wed
To fill their lives with love, and laughter
Dreaming of the good times ahead

They set date for December
The nineteenth, a day to remember

The whole town was there
When the day finally arrived
Everyone except for the bride
She phoned ahead
She was running behind
Late for biggest moment of her life
She was losing her mind

Speeding down the street
Rushing through traffic
She crashed into another car
It was simply tragic
she laid their bleeding, dieing,
Surrounded by the havoc
Her greatest day ruined in a snap
As if fate, as if by magic

As soon as he heard
He rushed to her side
Got there before anyone
Just in the nick of time
She told him, she loved him
As he began to cry
In his arms, he held her,
As she began to die
He screamed a horrific scream
Into the clouded sky
His brightest day
Became his darkest night

Everyone who was there
Could see his pain
Over the next few years
They watched him go insane
His whole life became
A flashback of that one day
It’s almost cruel the way God plays
These tricks on fate

Years later as he died
He gave a great, and giant grin
When they asked why
He said: “I get to see her again”


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Any thoughts on these two twisted, alcohol induced, darkly written poems?

Any feedback on both of these would be appreciated.

Thanks.

Contents thus far:
(Spread throught the thread)

Becoming nothingness
A day remembered
The boy inside, the killer within, and the thrill-seeker addicted to sin
Too early for poetry
Spontaneous
I am..........
Look, listen, find
 

DIZNUTS

Ñúñ'§ þêG £ègGéÐ /\/\å±ëý
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WOW TB that was amazing.....i really really liked the 2nd one.....
 

bnccoder

Postaholic
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The first one seemed like there was nothing that he could to and he just needed to work with what he has before he looses his mind. The second one had a nice twist at then end good work. :thumbsup::thumbsup:
 
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#5
bnccoder said:
The first one seemed like there was nothing that he could to and he just needed to work with what he has before he looses his mind. The second one had a nice twist at then end good work. :thumbsup::thumbsup:
Thanks, bro.

If anyone has any suggestions as to, how I could improve on these works, it would be appreciated.

Tiger, DG, HC, Kit, where are you fuckers, when you're needed? (j/k)
 

DIZNUTS

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Taylor_Blade said:
Thanks, bro.

If anyone has any suggestions as to, how I could improve on these works, it would be appreciated.

Tiger, DG, HC, Kit, where are you fuckers, when you're needed? (j/k)
they went on a cruise..the love boat cruise.... :happysad:
 
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#7
DIZNUTS said:
they went on a cruise..the love boat cruise.... :happysad:
Apparently, it was not worth their time. :thumbsup:, and thanks to ya'll for responding, and to anyone else who actually took the time to read this thread.

Thanks,

T.B. .......A.K.A: (That drunk guy, who hardly comes around wtf.com anymore.)

P.S.: Don't worry Kit, I didn't revive this for nothing. I'll have some more poems in a bit.
 
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#9
The boy inside, the killer within, and the thrill-seeker addicted to sin.

The boy inside, the killer within, and the thrill-seeker addicted to sin.

As the darkness of night nears,
and all light begins to fade
Becoming plagued by fears,
strange thoughts start to invade
He no longer wishes,
his sickness upon the innocent world,
Haunted by scared faces he envisions,
he becomes unfurled
The killer within, mocks his mind,
with laughter, and taunts
The child within, cowers deep inside,
crying, as the killer flaunts,
Recalling, without remorse all the innocents,
grinning as he haunts,

Haunts the boy , with memories of horrific
incidents, and sickening mistakes
Tormenting him towards ignition,
defining fears until he finally falls, he breaks
Forced into submission,
he is slowly turning into what he hates
A violently crazed, psychotic,
killer. Soulless as the guardians of hell’s gates.
Bringer of the real hypnotics,
death. Utterly unaffected by the chaos he creates
Not caring, nor feeling, truly a demon on earth,
a night of carnage, nightmares is what awaits
Mind daring, hand willing, facing his own dearth,
needing to witness, the horror he creates
He lusts uncontrollably, feigns impatiently,
longing for the powerful feeling , acquired in a kill
He craves it unconditionally, wants it intensively,
ferociously fights a need, acquired in a thrill

The war waging, within him is atrocious,
painful physically and draining mentally
The battle climaxing, as the end approaches,
unable physically, and unwilling mentally
Beset by the internal explosions,
of closure, he can hardly recall who he really is.
Is he, the innocent boy inside, or the crazed killer within?
Or could he be, the thrill-seeker who got addicted to sin?

Suddenly, he feels a sharp, rising, concentrated pain
Deep within his multiple personality disordered brain
Five minutes of excruciating, unimaginable pain was felt before death
Quite fitting, a twisted, thrill-seeking killer, suffered to his last breath
Yet, saddening how the frightened little boy, confused, hurt, and afraid
Was finally murdered by the killer, his traumatized young mind had made
He had been sick since the age of eight,
never even knew, was never really awake
His young mind developed MPD, to escape
Escape from a event in which happened at such a young age, he could not deal
So, traumatizing that his fragile young mind could never properly heal
He just couldn’t cope, so, he made his hopes, dreams, and nightmares, all real

All his imagination could conjure has been destroyed
The dangerously, psychotic killer roaming within
The traumatized, frightened boy cowering inside
Even the thrill-seeker who became addicted to sin.

At last, as darkness of night nears, and light begins to fade
In death he undoubtedly found, the ultimate final escape
 

dustinzgirl

Banned - What an Asshat!
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#12
Awesome. Just Awesome. you should look into some poetry contest/publishing mags. Seriosly.
 
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#14
dustinzgirl said:
Awesome. Just Awesome. you should look into some poetry contest/publishing mags. Seriosly.
Thanks, but none of my work is worthy of that compliment, especially not these three.
LiberatioN said:
Yea dude, that was good stuff...and the flow was nice, too. :thumbsup:
Thanks, bro.

More coming soon.
 

dustinzgirl

Banned - What an Asshat!
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#15
I read them, I thought they were great. But, then again, what do I know.

The Boy inside is long, and it feels like some emotion gets lost in the translation.

Becoming Nothingness is good, but needs some creative wording here and there, some sounds a bit cliche (for vampiric emo groups, anyways)

A day remembered: very good. Last stanza need some work though.

There constructive criticsisismsiswmsic.
 
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#16
dustinzgirl said:
I read them, I thought they were great. But, then again, what do I know.

The Boy inside is long, and it feels like some emotion gets lost in the translation.
True, however too little is lost to really matter. Besides, most of my poetry is preformed in spoken word. Spoken words allow me to give off more emotion, than written. Seemingly, meaningless words can become very meaningful when spoken in the right tone, and context.
dustinzgirl said:
Becoming Nothingness is good, but needs some creative wording here and there, some sounds a bit cliche (for vampiric emo groups, anyways)
Most of the creativeness in this story was used to cover up the two distinctly different, underlying morals, and blend them into one story. Meant mainly for audiences who read more deeply into stories. This made my choice of wording more important than usual. Upon review you may find them to be more creative than you originally thought, because they have multi-purposes. Then again, it all depends on your individual translation of a particular story. As for cliché, yes, it is. In fact, the two meanings themselves are cliché’s. The story was meant to be an emphasis, on them, in a way, to creatively extend on them.
dustinzgirl said:
A day remembered: very good. Last stanza need some work though.
This one you nailed on the head. It does, indeed, need work towards the end. However, seeing as it's a true story, I feel quite uncomfortable changing it. Written for a old friend, mistakes, and all.
dustinzgirl said:
There constructive criticsisismsiswmsic.
Always, criticism is deeply appreciated. Thanks for reading my alcohol induced poetry.
 
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#17
This piece of shit poem was written in the mists of an early mourning hangover. Reading through it later, I cracked up at how pathetic it was. By far, the saddest piece of alcohol induced poetry, to date.
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Too early for poetry……..

It’s too mother fucking early, for poetry
No more coffee left in the pot, I’m tired
Still sleepy, I miss my dreams of pleasantry
It’s all I can think of, all that I desire
That’s it, I’m going back to bed, fuck artistry
At this point of time, I lack the mind required

Why am I still typing
Here I go again, writing
My mourning matchstick is lighting
A spark in my mind, without trying
Words are shooting out, and flying
Onto this page, while inside I’m crying
Because I’d truly rather be lying

lying In my bed
Resting my head
Yet somehow, instead
To my work, I fled

Fuck it, I’ll keep writing
The whole while thinking
It’s too early, fuck poetry
I’m too tired, fuck artistry
Where’s my pillow, fuck this misery
I’ll put an end to this bitchery
And go back to my dreams of mystery
 
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#18
Spontaneous

Spontaneous thoughts fuel his style
Making him the versatile, Profile
Of an undisputed wild, child
Like the gorgeous river, Nile
All flowing through invokes a smile
Making all his craziness worthwhile

Always moving, the definition of brisk
Another day brings upon another risk
Never caring, Another way does not exist
To him another day brings upon more bliss

For, spontaneous thoughts compile
his style
Making him the overflowing pile
of smiles
The never fearing man living life mile
by mile
 
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#19
Found this while cleaning my house. It was written a few years ago, after a few cocktails, and a really bad break-up. I realize it sucks, but I thought I would share it, anyway.
EDIT: Influenced by a scene from fight club, or at least I assume it was. Been a while, you know.
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I am..........


I am the evil beneath the surface of hell.
I am the good above the walls of heaven.
I am the equal of good and evil, balancing on the rail.
I am the equal of no one man, nor eleven.

I am confused,
Used,
and abused.
While confusing,
Using ,
And abusing.

All who step in my path,
Feel my giant wrath.
All who step in my path,
Feel my loving grasp.

I am adored in the start.
I am hated after all falls apart.
I am good, yet evil in part.
I am the human heart.