Tag: Alcohol

Villanelle 1

by sidcorvid

It is my dream that I end in fire.
If only for fear of the forlorn,
Dying without hope or desire.

Having never been a liar,
This claim I won’t adorn.
It is my dream that I end in fire.

I’m nothing, yet, to admire,
But, ‘til the end, I refuse the scorn
Of dying without hope or desire.

My body will someday tire,
It’s then I’ll be set alight, already well-worn.
It is then that I’ll end in fire.

Peace and calm are a myth of the prior,
See Christ, with his crown of thorn
Who died without hope, or desire.

With pounding heart, I know what I require.
Since the hour that I was born,
I have dreamt that I would end in fire,
Free today from hope or desire.

Check out my Facebook!

Support independent publishing: Buy this book on Lulu.

Be a Man!

by sidcorvid

I recognize that every breath is a fight,
Gagging on your own blood and all,
But you just gotta hold on.

You’re not done fighting yet.
Open your fuckin’ eyes!
Look at me, you pussy!
You’re not going to die in my arms.

Don’t make me tell your family
All that horseshit about
Memories being timeless
And you, now, living in them.

Be a man!
Suck it up!
Wake up.

It’s too late, though, isn’t it?
Your lips are blue, body stiff.
Please wake up,
Don’t do this to me.

Where’s the poetry in this?
There’s no beauty here.
Why do the birds keep singing,
Serenading this tragedy?

Why would you do this to me?
Why would you rest
When there’s still so much for us to do?

If you like this, check out my Facebook or my book:

Support independent publishing: Buy this book on Lulu.

A note for the love of my youth

by sidcorvid

So this is something different. I’m sending a copy of my book to a person who holds a very special spot in my heart. I wrote a note on the inside cover, and thought I’d share it, with some modifications to prevent revealing her identity. 

*******,
What has it been? 8 years now? It’s been 8 years since I started loving you, and there’s no end for this affection in the foreseeable future. If I’m Yeats, you’re Gonne. The thing is, though, I know that a we won’t ever be, and I’m alright with that. We’ve grown into two very different people, and I’d be an idiot to think you and I could ever go back to our inability to spend a day without speaking to the other. I’m alright with that. You’ve been one of the most transforming forces of my life, and you’ve helped make me, me. You’ve forced the evolution that created who I am today. A lot of the poems in this book were written for you, and I’ll let you find them. I hope you like the book.

Thank you.
With Love,
Paulie

Check out my Facebook
Or my book
Support independent publishing: Buy this book on Lulu.

Modern Cowboy

by sidcorvid

Living his life by morals taught
By old country songs,
He knows when to hold ’em,
And he sure as hell knows when to fold ’em.

He knows that life is not easy for a boy named Sue,
But he craves that freedom only sung.

Still, though, having never sat on a horse,
He imagines himself a cowboy.
In blue jeans and boots,
He sits with a gun on his hip.

Sipping his whiskey,
He smokes mentholated cigarettes.

He’ll never shoot a man in Reno,
Wanting to watch him die.
Instead he’ll watch True Grit,
Again, and again and again.

Deep down, he knows that it’s
A death bed that’ll get him,
Not a dueling six-shooter.

As always, I hope you enjoyed! If you did, check out my Facebook Page

Also, check out my book!
Support independent publishing: Buy this book on Lulu.

Burnt to Hell… Just wanna call home…

by sidcorvid

I’m updating my Facebook with different poems than I am posting here. If you like what you are reading, you can find my page HERE

Burnt to hell,
This song has me wanting
To make a call home.

I just want to ring up mum,
To See how brother is growing,
To See if sister has met a boy.

I want to sit and watch tv
While brother shoots his plastic guns
And sister frets over makeup before a dance.
Mama is with sister, fixing hair.

It’ll be peace,
With cat purring on my lap,
And birds chirping from their cage.
Everything will be alright.

But, oh forlorn hope,
I’m here, and I’m burnt
And this song won’t end.

Support independent publishing: Buy this book on Lulu.

Is it already past midnight?

by sidcorvid

It’s already past midnight?

I guess I’ll sleep when I sleep,
Rest’s not that important.

Instead, I’ll keep cadence
Reminiscing on cadence,
Waiting for Taps.

I crumple the sheets, a failure contemplating:
What is it that makes a man?
What struggle overcome?
What prize attained?

I don’t know, dude.
I can’t honestly say I have a clue.
What am I even striving for?

Anyway, it’s over now,
And I’ve gotta move on.

Can’t say it’ll be easy, though.

i wish i could wiggle my arms

by sidcorvid

I wish I could wiggle my arms
under this boundless sky.

I’m lost in transcendent drunkenness,
a fool with a mind.
Synapses firing with alcoholic fervor,
I lie motionless.

The cigarette ashes on my cheek
As I puff with my eyes closed,
But not for too long.

I must stop the dark from spinning.

Wandering and wondering in wanderlust,
I hope we last forever.
I wish you were here now.

But C’est la Vie!
I’ll make do,
and I’ll make do
in accompanied solitude soon.

I see double as autocorrect corrects.
I close my eyes as the sky shuffles.
I fade to black, wondering what tonight will hold.