Drunk Mad Poetry

Dedicated to my dad.

“Find what you love and let it kill you”

  • Charles Bukowski.

“1st Drink”


So they admitted me today saying I was in a park

That may sound like not much mischief but I was also stark...


Cos I found what is sacred...

And that's to be free of anything that can't push-you

I don't need luck so keep your horse-shoe...

And stop trying to ride me like a jockey

I'm crying inside but you still plot-for-me...

I've been drunk for weeks

To me that's a slam dunk cos I don't sleep...

I pass out with bliss

And put myself at risk from deaths kiss

Every time I feel that but I must admit I miss...

Money - to a degree

It's funny that without it is when we are truly free

But they disagree and admitted me today cos they think it's what I need.

Chapter One.

I see myself as a foe of the masses

The bottle rolls and smashes

Living at full throttle then I watch my life just crash

Not a role model but want cash...

For my wasted talent

Living life real shit and picked up a few of Satan’s habits

Give me my meal ticket from what I jot and maybe a bank balance...

That reads more than zero

I bleed on paper I'm your evil hero

And need razors but I'm peaceful...

For my arms only

Harming myself so I'm never lonely...

We all know that friend pain

I wrote a note with a pen I found down the drain...

Which is why my words are filthy

As I write I'm drinking for Bukowski cos my world is a mystery.

Like my sherry this is short and sweet

And like my Whisky this is more-than neat...

I think then sink

Needing to drink myself into next week.

The booze leaves clues

Not talking about the news

Cos I'm too busy walking in Bukowski’s shoes...

The plane is crashing not landing

Cos they call me insane but I'm happy...

Disk keeps skipping

My lips need kissing

And I really need a pot to piss in...

Fuck you doctors I'm in love with your nurses

But you see me as bonkers with a dead dove in my mercy...

Yeah this guy ain't wired right

I don't get high cos I might die tonight...

The paper is my friend

It's the only way to taste freedom...

Scribble and scratch

I only need a little bit of cash.

Chapter Two.

There is so much life in death

Which is why I'm tempted to put this knife through my neck...

Because in this place now I'm not living

Call me disgrace but only if you’re not sinning...

Nobody's perfect


Publisher: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Publication Date: 07-10-2019
ISBN: 978-3-7487-0955-8

All Rights Reserved

Dedicated to my dad.

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