The day I Wore A Swear Word

Who funk it that this day will finally come
When cockroaches invade my desolate slum.
Rats and slithering snakes are eve’s scary creatures
But swear words are drunken man best features.

Holly molly my venture into angry word’s dare
But public domain restrains me from spilling my swear
But when I am at home at night on the bottle
I drink and drink till my month starts to squabble.

My deadly bites are not from fang’s poison
But harmful words spewing each treason
I have amnesia for good but not for harm
Swear words mode ring my loudest alarm.

Drunken youth excused by the age of consent
What is my excuse for an old man spent?
Next morning when I face the mirror of blame
Oh I wish I could remember last night’s shame.

Shame on me for my knowing not to drink
Lame excuses I find to binge and shrink
Negligence bind small circle around my feet
And I set the bar low for my soul’s defeat.

Lame excuse to drink for my cholesterol’s sake
Wine red or white in excess cause my headache
No confession absolves my adult behaviour
No pity for me from holly father the saviour.

Thirst, thirst more thirst like having the runs
Excuses, excuses, excuses my chosen ones
When shades are down and I am alone
On to binge drinking my selfish throne.

Would compassion end this poem, I wonder?
Forgiveness for sins but not when I plunder
I pawned my soul to the devil for endless drinks
My liver’s epitaph framed in hell’s staining inks.

March 7, 2014
Copyright Leaking Pen 2014

Forgive Me Twice

Leaking Pen
Leaking Pen
Dear Members
I don't like to post 3 poems in a row, I believe in giving equal space to all poets to post their poems, but I could not stand all the commercial postings on our diminishing website, this is my way of purging junk out, let poems find their rightful place again!

Dr, Seuss on the Rocks


I drank your poem. I drank it all up ... not like wine ... but my design ... a milkshake.
When I feel a whine coming on ... I like the sweet splatter ... of ice cream ... you scream.
It helps me sleep ... this sugar high ... not like wine ... I don't get the sense I can fly.
Why do we wallow in such big gulps? You know, the fiction and all its pulps.
Maybe I should switch, wine is good for the heart. Yes, I should try this claim you impart.
Let's set the table and invite all our guests. If we are in good company, we may drink less.

Your poem is like Dr. Seuss on the rocks. You, dear Paul, are a character.

Thanks for this composition. It shows me a lot about your sweet disposition.


Kathy xo

Fort Lauderdale, Florida

This poem was brought to you by the letter 'F and U". Oh ... my goodness ... I made a funny. Maybe we could start a fashion craze ... wearing our hearts on our sleeves.

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