A Unique Kind Of Drunkeness
the usual wine
the favorite rhum and the well sought vodka
or martini
scotch on the rocks or you common margarita
or bloody mary...
a glass, another glass, more glasses
an open mouth, more words, a flood of ideas that come when the
spirits stir you to more shores and islands..
you let go things and monsters and angels long stored in your
vocabulary, you're a book with some pages sticking
for you seldom open
only sometimes when things really get rough when the heart wants to speak
because it is too full and your mouth has nothing better to do except to speak,
then the many glasses take you to many places and you face many people
long dead and gone
and you speak to them without fears now
direct to the point
confrontational and you learn how is it to shout
less civil, bursting manners, regrets cracking out like fireworks
and then you mellow down
for this enlightening moment of
why, yes why did all those things happen to you?
some explanations
like how towel to your neck and face
a soft massage on your arms and back
a woman with a beautiful body and sealed mouth
gentle eyes and a certain
professional indifference
you refuse an offer for the night because you just want to go home
someone is waiting and you feel so guilty
it is late and you need nothing now but a good sleep
in the house.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
85
i wish i have a mouth that knows how to speak my love
i wish i have this kind of mouth that knows to speak
about my love
one that opens so easily and dashes with words like
you know i love you, tell me, do you love me too?
a candid mouth, like a shrew who gambles with words and
will not mind losing
a mouth who kisses your mouth without
shame and if shamed because you slap it
does not bother at all,
one who says, why hide love, why not pour love like a
strong wine to a chalice and let it warm
the glass and let the glass
be nothing but a glass
one that does not mind at all, one that loves and if not loved in
return takes the other possibilities
without regrets
or pain,
the mouth that i have is closed and will not open
afraid
i have kept the words
i love you only for you
like a worm inside my tongue,
wriggling
turning into a little butterfly
that never had the chance to see what is outside
and feel the freedom of air,
yesterday
it died and i keep it for the whole night
now, i spit it out
and my mouth closed again
eating only silence
while you just watch there
asking me
and i said there is nothing to worry
nothing at all
i just don't feel anything and there is nothing
worth saying, i look at you as you go, i hold only to your shadow
and you will never never never know,
this
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Wish I Have A Mouth That Knows How To Speak My Love
i wish i have this kind of mouth that knows to speak
about my love
one that opens so easily and dashes with words like
you know i love you, tell me, do you love me too?
a candid mouth, like a shrew who gambles with words and
will not mind losing
a mouth who kisses your mouth without
shame and if shamed because you slap it
does not bother at all,
one who says, why hide love, why not pour love like a
strong wine to a chalice and let it warm
the glass and let the glass
be nothing but a glass
one that does not mind at all, one that loves and if not loved in
return takes the other possibilities
without regrets
or pain,
the mouth that i have is closed and will not open
afraid
i have kept the words
i love you only for you
like a worm inside my tongue,
wriggling
turning into a little butterfly
that never had the chance to see what is outside
and feel the freedom of air,
yesterday
it died and i keep it for the whole night
now, i spit it out
and my mouth closed again
eating only silence
while you just watch there
asking me
and i said there is nothing to worry
nothing at all
i just don't feel anything and there is nothing
worth saying, i look at you as you go, i hold only to your shadow
and you will never never never know,
this
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shut my Mouth
There are those whom wish
I would just shut my mouth.
For my words cut them to
the bone when I speak of
an abuse child. Or a person
drowning in the sea of his or
her own addiction. They real
wish I would shut my mouth when
I speak of equality for all. Also when
talk about suffrage one goes through
from AIDS, Cancer to Death. I done had my
words crumbled in thrown back in my face.
I have been given looks as if they want to shove
my words back down my throat until I choked on them.
But for all those who want me to shut my mouth I have
got three times as many who want me to speak.
So speak I will. As long as I got something to say I will speak.
And only when I don’t have anymore to say is when I will
Shut My Mouth.
Mother Once Said...
My mother once said
'Don`t open your mouth before
Elders and those with white hairs'.
My mother also said
'Don`t speak unless asked'.
My mouth asked me once,
'What is my role in your life? '
I said, 'My mother has said nothing about it'.
I added, 'You swallow and eat'.
My mouth has been quiet since.
My friends said, 'Your mother is wise'.
My father said, 'She is my strength'.
I wondered how she could be so great!
Then was born my kid brother with a big mouth.
My mother said to my kid brother too
Not to do those old things
But his mouth spoke everything
Everything that I never dared.
And his mouth swallowed, ate and spoke.
Today my mother is no more
And my father is is weak and worn out.
I still remember my mother`s words.
While my kid brother speaks out his mind
My mouth refuses to speak out its regrets....
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Word Of Mouth
Ive been trying to get a message to you,
But the operator cant put me through,
Because the vandals went and wrecked all the telephones.
And all my enemies are spreading bad news,
You wont call me, thats why Im calling you,
To put you straight about the rumors theyre spreading about me back home.
I should have known, sooner or later,
Youd get the news, sooner or later,
The word of mouth will get right back to you.
Somehow we lost communication,
My only chance in my situation,
Is that the word of mouth gets my message through.
The word of mouth,
The word of mouth,
But who are they to say the things they do?
The word of mouth says that Ive gone insane,
That wine and women have affected my brain.
Well whos the big mouth spreading the news again?
The word of mouth says Im round the bend,
Its all over, this is the end.
Exaggeration sure gets the better of people who send[? ].
The word of mouth,
The word of mouth,
But who are they to say the things they do?
The word of mouth said I should be put in my place.
The word is out Im in disgrace -- a waste of space.
But if they say it, say it to my face.
People talking, trying to dig up the dirt,
There are so many lies around.
They spread their gossip and the rumors around this town.
Word of mouth, face to face,
My word of mouth has stated my case,
And Im saying Im coming back home to you.
You should have know sooner or later,
Youd get the news sooner or later,
The word of mouth will get right back to you.
The word of mouth,
Shut your mouth,
Shut your face!
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wills
I will speak excellent things and,
I will open up my mouth with the right things of love;
And with carefulness and common-sense!
For my sweet name is called Wills.
I will speak the truth always,
For wickedness is an abomination to my lips!
And like the muse of your love in the land of many waters;
But, i am Wills with the positive mind of life.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Speak
Well I sat down next to a photograph
Tried my best almost made her laugh
She was my toughest crowd
There in the way was a moutain up in the clouds
Well I cant sleep and Im not in love
I cant speak without messing up
Eyes tell of whats behind
And hers showed the way to a long and lonely climb
But through failure Ill proceed
And shell see how far Ive come
[chorus]
And its you and me in the sun and sea
Ill offer my arms to yours
It seems to me, no mystery
Well it isnt
So Ill try hard to speak
Well I sat down next to a living hell
Tried my best until I struck out
Movement is not mine
I stood in the way pretending that I was the vine
But no failure will proceed from a mouth that drinks its wine
[chorus]
And its not me
Not my sanctity
These arent my words to you
Its all clear when its not from here
So clear
So Ill try not to speak
song performed by by Nickel Creek
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Speak A Bit Of That Moment
Speak a bit of that moment,
A moment that contains centuries,
A moment that halts time,
A moment when someone sees
A route leading beyond the cosmos.
Speak a bit of that moment
When water and clay mingle,
And in a moment of union,
Sprouts a bud of flower.
Speak a bit of that moment,
When eyes become a heart,
When heart becomes eyes,
A star of dream, a rain-bow
Dither on the lashes.
Speak a bit of that moment,
When the Sun places its fire
On the bank of a lake,
And water becomes gold,
Miracles begin to happen.
Speak a bit of that moment,
When Love begins to blather metaphysics
When chest becomes hollow,
And heart dwells in each particle.
Speak a bit of that moment,
When sunbeams begin to fade,
The sights become vague,
The Sun dives down into puddle,
And the forms begins to muddle,
The earth beckons,
The desire of long sleep places her fingers
On the lids of eyes,
Speak a bit of that moment,
Speak a bit of that moment.
Written By Qayyum Tahir
Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Monstrare
This house a dictatorship
Learn to shut your mouth and follow directions
Or receive punishments
For your treason
You get under my skin
And leave your marks
Like footprints in the snow
Except your boots are laced with a virus
'Cause you're making me sick
This house is a dictatorship
Follow the rules and shut your mouth
Or hear the mouth of the one
That controls you with force
Stand before the almighty and choke on your words
And tremble in fear as she screams, shouts
Yells and roars
Out of frustration
This house is a dictatorship
'Cause my voice is silenced,
My actions are limited,
My thoughts are undermined
Listen to yourself and
Listen to no one else
Because you're the 'boss'
Of this world
Or just the boss of this house
This house is a dictatorship
'Cause I'm chained to the fence
Like some wild animal
That can't be trusted
I wonder if you really trust me
Let alone understand me
'Cause if you don't,
What's the point of being a good child?
This house is a dictatorship
'Cause your word is always right
And mine is always wrong
Even though you're never right about everything
Nearing eighteen with the mind of an adult
Just like you, I'm smart too
But in your eyes, I'm still five
And I can't possibly know anything
This house a dictatorship
'Cause you don't bother to comfort me
When I need it most
In the darkest of times
You refuse to talk to me
About anything
So how am I supposed to
Know what you're feeling and thinking?
This house is a dictatorship
'Cause you always yell and scream
Until your throat goes hoarse
And you do it with no remorse
You see things from your own perspective
And you dread compromise
'Cause it's either your way
Or no way at all
But things have changed
Now I speak my mind
Because I'm no longer a shy ten year old child.
Now I tune out your yelling and screaming
Because I'm no longer a scared ten year old child.
Now I don't speak a word at home
Because there's no point.
Now I lose myself in Xbox and the computer
Because I can't talk to you.
It's not even about being disobedient
Or disrespectful.
It's about not being a kid anymore
And not being treated like the young adult I am.
And I know for certain
That this house is a dictatorship
'Cause you'll be mad if you read this,
Even though there isn't another way;
Even though you made it this way.
poem by Ronnell Evans
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Spiteface
===============================
Smashing Pumpkins - Spiteface
===============================
Your words will one day spite your face
And another mouth will come and take its place
It'll speak and speak and speak and sputter me dry
I will never understand the motive drive
Muck..You..Up..Muck
In a dream I wander on
To the bell tower.. writing songs
So I crumple this page, and rip it up
Never piece my broken heart to you
Muck..You..Up..Muck
Your words will one day spite your face
And another mouth will come and take its place
It'll speak and speak and speak and sputter me dry
I will never understand the motive drive
Muck
Your words, will spite your face
Your words, will spite your face
Spiteface
Spiteface
Spiteface
Spiteface
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Zipper my tongue
notice me not; i am zipper by the fence of
my teeth and close by the lips, protected by two
holes beneath the two big eye balls rap with color
little hair, to feel it shiny tiny cloth of skin to tell
why keep in talking if the heart can't improve
good silent, and why the nose always breathing
when, the same air, feel in the air, would it's not
easy for the ears listen and talk to the wind after
the dawn of silent
sleep my dear heart; let us always open the mouth
and touch the teeth for every silent the tongue will
speak; for each return claps the hands where the pin
is on
what then the little heart tell, when the big blind
mouth says that; the waiting is over for everything is
ready to a harder fight, and win a better glorious
victory, its not the right aim yet, the best shoot it
gain
stop my apology; the same things happen again,
please switch a new beginning for my awesome
heart zipper my tongue forever......
poem by Antonio Liao
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Reality (Naani 25 syllables)
The heart is the storage house
Of deepest thoughts, feelings
The eyes mirror them
But the lips open the gates.
'The good man brings out good things out of the good stored up in his heart; the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For out of the overflow of his heart, the mouth speaks.'
Luke 6: 45
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Take You On Peak
There are so many things besides
Deep meaning and insight provides
Flowers and their fragrance spread all over
Even if provided no cover
Do roses need any introduction?
Do the words need any recognition?
Absolutely no if they are properly conveyed
If not then people may guess and stay dismayed
Words have power and strength
It has variety and can cover any length
Spoken or silent carry same meaning
Where it goes then there is point in winning
Words are reflection of stable mind
No where you may have deviation to find
The work is done as per promises made in words
There is no going back but only to look towards
It may have desired effect
Even if not put into act
There is somewhere hidden fact
Words make it forceful with tact
Rest of the things eyes score
People can read clearly therefore
Face and mouth may act together
There is only adding of feather
Love the words as they are spoken
They are not mere gesture or token
Once out then can't be taken back
As there may be lot more at stake
Think and then speak
It may otherwise make you weak
Speak firmly and then stick
These all quality may take you at the peak
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Second Part: Misleading An Idea Like A Blind Man
my left hand touches the right side of my neck
rubbing it and then slides its fingers to my ear
i open my mouth to signify that i long for sleep
i put my hands on top of my unwashed hair
the day's schedule is hectic like the way a juggler pleases our eyes
i open my mouth letting the wall see my egg white
teeth and then i close my mouth again
sipping air inside my lungs
my eyes are like heavy clouds low to the ground
becoming fog to the grass
i am sleepy
but i do not want to sleep
i am teasing time since it has no
underwear
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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For the Year of the Insane
A prayer
O Mary, fragile mother,
hear me, hear me now
although I do not know your words.
The black rosary with its silver Christ
lies unblessed in my hand
for I am the unbeliever.
Each bead is round and hard between my fingers,
a small black angel.
O Mary, permit me this grace,
this crossing over,
although I am ugly,
submerged in my own past
and my own madness.
Although there are chairs
I lie on the floor.
Only my hands are alive,
touching beads.
Word for word, I stumble.
A beginner, I feel your mouth touch mine.
I count beads as waves,
hammering in upon me.
I am ill at their numbers,
sick, sick in the summer heat
and the window above me
is my only listener, my awkward being.
She is a large taker, a soother.
The giver of breath
she murmurs,
exhaling her wide lung like an enormous fish.
Closer and closer
comes the hour of my death
as I rearrange my face, grow back,
grow undeveloped and straight-haired.
All this is death.
In the mind there is a thin alley called death
and I move through it as
through water.
My body is useless.
It lies, curled like a dog on the carpet.
It has given up.
There are no words here except the half-learned,
the Hail Mary and the full of grace.
Now I have entered the year without words.
I note the queer entrance and the exact voltage.
Without words they exist.
Without words on my touch bread
and be handed bread
and make no sound.
O Mary, tender physician,
come with powders and herbs
for I am in the center.
It is very small and the air is gray
as in a steam house.
I am handed wine as a child is handed milk.
It is presented in a delicate glass
with a round bowl and a thin lip.
The wine itself is pitch-colored, musty and secret.
The glass rises in its own toward my mouth
and I notice this and understand this
only because it has happened.
I have this fear of coughing
but I do not speak,
a fear of rain, a fear of the horseman
who comes riding into my mouth.
The glass tilts in on its own
and I amon fire.
I see two thin streaks burn down my chin.
I see myself as one would see another.
I have been cut int two.
O Mary, open your eyelids.
I am in the domain of silence,
the kingdom of the crazy and the sleeper.
There is blood here.
and I haven't eaten it.
O mother of the womb,
did I come for blood alone?
O little mother,
I am in my own mind.
I am locked in the wrong house.
poem by Anne Sexton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Smile!
Smile,
Look at the sky,
Forget about everything and just,
Smile!
Laugh,
Open your mouth,
And throw back your head and just,
Laugh!
Dance,
Move your body to the music,
Or move to the rhythm of silence and just,
Dance!
Sing,
Open your heart,
Let out all your thoughts and just,
Sing!
Speak,
Say hi to people you know,
Open a conversation with people you don't and just,
Speak!
Run,
No one can fence you in,
Move your feet one in front of the other and just,
Run!
Love,
Like you have nothing to be ashamed of,
Take someone in your arms and just,
Love!
Dream,
You can do anything you want to,
Keep hope, reason, and will, and just,
Dream!
Live,
Today and tomorrow and the next day,
No matter when it ends make it worth it, and just,
Live!
Believe,
Know what you know and share what you think,
No one can bring you down if you just,
Believe!
Celebrate,
Everything and anything,
It's all in your life and that's a reason to just,
Celebrate!
Fly,
Lift your arms with joy and hope,
Spread the wings of your heart and just,
Fly!
Listen,
If your interested or not,
These are the voices of others like you just,
Listen!
Trust,
That no one and everyone should have that chance,
Give everyone it to everyone and just,
Trust!
See,
Not only with your eyes but your mind,
With your body, spirit, and soul, just,
See!
It's not hard to be happy.
One simple choice.
One god given right of 'pursuit of happiness'.
One choice to look at things and just,
SMILE! : D
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Love is the inspiration
Love is the inspiration for the heart to sing a tune,
For the ear to hear,
For the soul to warm,
For the mouth to smile,
For the eyes to glisten.
Love is the inspiration for want,
For the soul to draw near another,
For the mouth to utter sweet words,
For the eyes to gaze upon,
For the heart to speak out.
Love is the inspiration for need,
For the mouth to touch,
For the eyes to close,
For the heart to race,
For the ear to burn.
Love is the inspiration for longing,
For the eyes to see only the one,
For the heart to cry out,
For the ear to hear whispers,
For the soul to join another forever.
Love is the inspiration for forever,
For the heart to be whole,
For the ear to always hear those words,
For the soul to have another,
For the mouth to speak the truth.
Love is the inspiration for the heart to seek God,
For the ear to hear his word,
For the soul to reach for him,
For the mouth to speak his truth,
For the eyes to always look upon him first,
For God is the inspiration for Love.
poem by Rabecca Welch
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Things I Love
I love the sun
I love lying in the sun, relaxing on a lounge
Working hard for a cold glass of sweet tea
Playing in the water, fishing in the late afternoon
I love the sun very much
But not as much as I love you
I love a glass of wine
I love a glass of red wine beside the company of a lady
Talking over the day, bathing in the winelight
Listening to soft music by a fire together
I love a glass of wine very much
But not as much as I love you
I love the words
I love forming the words into meaningful tapestries
Searching for just the right phrase, the perfect sound
Projecting what’s on my heart to you, good reader
I love the words very much
But not as much as I love you
I love the rain
I love sitting by the window, my breath fogged on the cool glass
Contemplating a quiet moment, my thoughts far away
Watering the earth to make good things grow
I love the rain very much
But not as much as I love you
I love many things
I love so many things about this life I can’t list them all
Parties, meals, a job well done, victory, cleansing tears and dogs
Small town softball games and walking along a forest trail
I love many things very much
And yet, my dear, I love you much more
poem by David Terry
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In the ward
In the ward she was made to draw
A woman,
She complied
Started to draw a face
The eyes and ears
But without a mouth
Two legs
Without the hands,
The shrink says,
Was this woman
In your house
Not allowed to speak
Was she not allowed
To do?
Her mother
Wants to understand
The husband was
Not there.
In the house
She cannot speak
She did not do
Anything about it
Until she became so
Incomplete
And she did not
Know until she
Was made to draw
The woman’s
True face.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Charles Carville's Eyes
A melanholy face Charles Carville had,
But not so melancholy as it seemed,
When once you knew him, for his mouth redeemed
His insufficient eyes, forever sad:
In them there was no life-glimpse, good or bad,
Nor joy nor passion in them ever gleamed;
His mouth was all of him that ever beamed,
His eyes were sorry, but his mouth was glad.
He never was a fellow that said much,
And half of what he did say was not heard
By many of us: we were out of touch
With all his whims and all his theories
Till he was dead, so those blank eyes of his
Might speak them. Then we heard them, every word.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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