Coke and wine.

I hear the wine flowing and the glasses chink

as you miss the table and hit the sink.

Mother and daughter addictions together

thrown in the garden whatever the weather.

You talk above the same old songs, and I wonder

if you know that your behavouir is wrong

or that there’s a rat in your kitchen running a mock

it’s a matter of time, tick fucking tock.

As predictable as the sun that moves the dial

smeared face and blood shot eyes is your style.

Mother dearest your spirit is broke

I saw this in your face the moment we spoke.

Fuck this and fuck that ‘cos the world is so screwed

but you never consider that the problem starts with you.

Ten green bottles sitting on the wall

every single night I hear them fall.

A knock at the door and the bed springs go

Daughter dearest, do you think we don’t know?

You sing as it moves to cover the sound

to hide the white powder,  another round?

Your a tight knit unit all full of love

broken souls that are fucked up and stuff.

Excited greetings and laughing galore

filling the glasses who wants more?

Voices go up voices go down

I can actually hear when you’re wearing your frown.

The music begins and everyone sings

till the spiteful tongue brings out its sting.

Tears are falling and the mask no longer fits

true colours shining none of you give a shit.

The lamp is broke, the glasses shattered

not that any that truly mattered.

You scream you push, so much pressure

you lose the very thing you pretend to treasure.

Flashing lights and a friendly face

an easy call for them to trace,

again today, again tomorrow

mother and daughter full of so much sorrow.

 

Karen Hayward ©2015

 

 

 

 

The drunken ramblings of a sober gal.

I fancy a drink
To help me think.
Bottled beer, to
Take me up a gear.
Sparkling wine,
And I feel fine.
A shot…
Or two of backdoor gin,
i’ll soon feel as though I can win.
Aftershock of red and blue
should keep these thoughts
anti socially true.
Fizzy apples, purest cider,
expand my thoughts,
They’re getting wider!
I fancy a drink
my thoughts do think.
Try it out,
we’ll, not, shout,
The little devil voice,
promises, i’ll retain my voice.
But the vodka shouts,
we’ve so much to talk about,
Take a slow long sip,
We’ll tell…
Not a single fib.
Drink me down
forget that frown,
Trust me baby,
I gotcha lady.
Swallow me,
set yourself free,
You cannot resist,
The drunken truthful mist
It descend
on us all,
Before
the
greatest
of
falls.

Cider flower beds.

Do you remember,
The day that we met?
You were so drunk on cider,
Because of a bet.
You collapsed on the grass,
Where you mustn’t tread,
Surrounded by glass,
Face in the flower bed.
You were a loner,
A stoner,
But i needed to know,
Would you turn up for the final show.
So we talked, and we laughed,
And we walked, and we barfed.
And the days came and passed,
And we grew closer,
Than most.
But it all went too fast.
And we didn’t last.