alcoholicpoet.com

Some sad poetry needs no explanation.


the puzzle solves us.

in shallow cuts that take too long to scab.

the numbers measure us.

in the bits of skin that never learn.


the answers sicken us.

more so with each question that we ask.


we count out loud.

every breath a test to see if someone still listens.


the edge calls our name.

in stilted devotions.


we can negotiate the distance,

but gravity always wins.



Filed under: December 2024 Sad Poetry

alcoholicpoet.com

A little bit of sad poetry about the combustion of choices. 


she idles. treading in the throat of time. waiting to drown. 

she listens. to the currents as they devour the islands that still remain. 

the moment swallows hard. and she wonders will it choke on her. 

but the truth is, she knows she's too small. 

their choices explode. a cacophony of touch. 

she wonders. whether the monster under her bed will find its way between her sheets. 

names are for the privileged. choices are for the fortunate. 

and she is neither of those things. 

she measures the distance between them.

 by the fire under her skin.


Filed under: Sad Poems December 2024

alcoholicpoet.com

a little bit of sad poetry about continuity. 


the end is a lazy beast. all hollow claws and torn tickets.

the show is always running. thumping stages full of voiceless actors.

the pauses simmer between our words. a vicious punctuation.

we idle too long and the shadows move to overtake  us.

every breath a chasm. the venom is sweet as it learns our names.

the lie is gentle as it unzips her dress. 

as the music quiets, time knocks on the doors that we've locked. 

patiently counting  the voices trapped behind them.


Filed under: December 2024 Sad Poems

alcholicpoet.com

a little bit of  sad poetry about how our frailties make us strong.


dragonflies and caterpillars tell their tales.

delicate wings scrape the wind. shattered cocoons tease the sun.

loose skin falls away as we move to touch.

the bones underneath more broken than we expected.

words turn to clay. much too soft to hold.

we play gravity's infectious games.

flying and falling again and again.

never knowing if we've won.

our voices fade to whispers. our bodies become ghosts.

life is an icicle. time is an oven.


Filed under: December 2024 Sad Poetry

a dark poem about the foibles of humanity.


arrogant monkeys discard their collars.
convinced their leashes are also gone.

they worship their temporary gods.
unaware of their participation in time's lengthy comedy.

the world tilts against the weight of averages.
the brilliance of the few collectively stolen.

they gather at the well. all desirous of the water.
they drink their fill. never working to replenish what they've taken.

the monkeys give themselves names.
to demonstrate that they matter.

the monkeys gather their stones.
to throw at each other.

the world swells with the prevalence of the mediocre.
an insidious infection.

the monkeys bang their rocks.
beseeching their imagined saviors.

the monkeys put on their tuxedos. 
to prove that the party isn't over. 

time attempts to answer their questions.
but they won't like what it says.

what the monkeys don't know
is that the end of the world has already started. 


Filed under: November 2024 Sad Poetry

alcoholicpoet.com

a poem about the nature of weakness. 


wear the wind.

the smothering contradictions

that put their faces in our blood. 

rebuff the tired poverty of flesh. 

let all their hideous stories grow stale. 

be born in the choke of death. 

alive because we must. 

nourished on simple lies. 

wild animals tamed by the claws of emptiness. 


Filed under: November 2024 Sad Poems

alcoholicpoet.com

a sad poem about inevitable decisions. 


the canopy of time. all festering knots and shivering resentment. a stilted assembly of changes never to be realized.

the end has its own voice. the quiet disciples of why. they peel away our skin looking for the monsters underneath.

evolution is weak. like gravity.

we fall not because, but in spite of it.

we polish our crowns while the wind chews up our paper wings.

the economy of choice is such that the balance is always negative.

the truth is loud enough, but we choose not to hear.

the doors to our cages are unlocked, but still we don't leave.


Filed under: November 2024 Sad Poems

alcoholicpoet.com

a sad poem about human evolution. 


 the window is painted shut. no reflections dare taste its glass.

the building is made of sour candy. its walls are rotten.

the oven inside it is hungry for strays. the villains bait their traps.

the wolves outside dare not breathe. for fear that the pigs inside might escape.

the door is heavy. the lock is rusted. 

the rooms inside are all empty. 


the story is older than all of us. it  never changes.

we are lost.


not because we don't know where we are.

but because we don't remember where we've been. 



Filed under: November 2024 Sad Poems

alcoholicpoet.com

when we were new and gentle the world would let us run. we had no need for promises.

everything was small. and the things that we wanted were irrevocably ours. 

but time must draw its nooses. and nooses will always find their necks.

now we are worn and aggressive. animals chafing against a stiffening leash.

every breath thick with the places that we've been. strays dropping breadcrumbs on a one way street.

we look in the windows. but all we see is our own reflection.

we knock on the doors. but inside, no one answers. 

skin is paper. touch is ink. words are the poison that wears our faces. 

it's a fever of choices. dominoes tumbling in an endless cascade of why.

inside an abattoir of questions. 

as we chew on the fingertips of time. 


Filed under: Sad Poetry November 2024

alcoholicpoet.com

a dark poem about how those who do not learn from their mistakes are doomed. 


corners stir. like blood smiling through punctures.

the numbers are manipulated. the math is corrupt.

the walls quiver. the doors are shut.

the war is cold. the soldiers are all corpses.

the corners whisper. like heavy rain breaking glass.

the truth is diseased. the lies have become us.

the end grins. its smile all polished fangs and cracked lips.

everyone devours the rotten meat.

too hungry to notice. 


Filed under: November 2024 Poetry

alcoholicpoet.com

A dark poem about how the end comes for us all.


the empty amenities of skin parse our choices.

the colors of time dance on our lips.

there are lies to be told.

we choke on the maps they draw.

those places leave us too easily.

bits of bone in the jaws of conceit.

we continue searching for them.

memory clenches its fists. still there's nothing left to hold.

the world stumbles over the carcasses of what we have done.

but there's no need for graves.

when everything is dead.


Filed under: November 2024 Sad Poems

by alcoholicpoet.com

a dark poem for the vagabond within us all. 


the horizon stumbles over gravity.

more perspective than condition.

fragile sticks in the fists of change.

its eternal equation still solving for what we are to become.

lost is not a place. nor is found.

we assemble our destinations from what remains of ourselves after we arrive.

falling is a map that boils under our skin. full of all the little lies that infect us.


we are nomads. wandering inside ourselves.

searching for an exit.



Filed under: November 2024 Sad Poems

It's the end of the world as we know it. And I feel fine. 
- REM 


 wear your lies like armor and capes.

history will bear its own assessment. 

we're free. that is the promise.

repeat those convictions. while you stomp out their flames. 

we're free. that is the promise. 

but freedom plays favorites. 

spin your stories. shepherd your ignorant sheep.  

we're free. that's the most dangerous lie. 

that anyone can believe. 


Filed under: November 2024 Sad Poetry