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She Says She Drinks Because She Likes the Taste


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She says she drinks because she likes the taste


they arrive tall and strong and always leave with haste


she says that it helps her to have a good time


a few drinks in the evening, where is the crime?


sometimes its vodka sometimes it wine


if she’s caught in a pinch a beer will do fine


the smallest occasions or any good news


whatever the reason just break out the booze


she says she can quit but that’s not what she wants


she’d rather party with friends and visit old haunts


change doesn’t come, try as I might


if I push any more she’ll drink out of spite


and just who am I to complain about drink?


when many a year, my puke stained the sink


but the children are growing and watch what we do


their minds searching for answers and we are a clue


the example we set will be with them forever


affecting all that they do; touching every endeavor


there is too much at stake for me to keep quiet


or give up the fight to rid drink from her diet

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Sad but topical subject which relates to many these days who see themselves as "social drinkers".. yet who are at risk of developing long-term health conditions because of the amount they regularly drink. Relationships falter...and you are right.. for most children will eventually judge parents...Loneliness awaits the self-centred who take their “pleasure” to the detriment of all else. Cheers!

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Ouch! This one hits home. Just because you don't fall down the stairs or have blackouts doesn't mean the drink hasn't got its hold on you. It can definitely put relationships at risk. Incidentally, I was very impressed with the easy flow of the rhyming scheme!

Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim

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A lot of truth here for this particular situation--each to his own. I have been an excessive imbiber for lo these many years, until I found--lo and behold--that booze and booze friends can ruin the things most important. Now, I moderate--diluted wine over ice--I know I'm fooling myself--booze is booze--but I hold firmly to moderation in all things. Gee, some Greek poet must have said that. I have great temptations to overcome after a lifetime of boozing: martinis (my favorite), bourbon, scotch, you name it. My wife has been one of the few people on Earth that would put up with my wayward ways. She now controls my diet and alcohol consumption--a lion tamer's occupation. I love the booze, but it doesn't love me. I do try to be sensible, but DNA gets in the way. My father--my excuse--would binge drink until the house rent money ran out. Fortunately, I have dodged that bullet.

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Hi Dan, I almost didn't notice the rhyme in this one, the content over powered the frame. Good job.


Being the daughter of an alcoholic I certainly recognized the excuses. "I like to drink" "have a good time" "just need to loosen up" "celebrate" "comiserate" and my favorite, "complain and he'll drink out of spite" Rescuing my Mom from violent situations, scary car rides with a couple of accidents, shouts and accusations, picking daddy up from the police station, waking at 2:15 am every Friday night (bowling nite then marathon drinking at the bar until it closed at 2am.) to wait and wonder if he would be violent, chatty or just go to bed and pass out and simply the mortification of seeing your dad drunk and out of control is what children of alcoholics often experience . They always said it was never my father's fault because he didn't mean to do harm, he was a good man he was just drunk. As for being sorry, what he couldn't remember, didn't happen. My mother would never have left him so as a little kid I used to pray at night for daddy to die. (It was the only acceptable out.) As a teen I defied him and showed him no respect. I fought with him all of the time and when I told him he needed professional help I was chastized for being disrespectful by my Mom, my brother and other family members. It drove a huge wedge between us. And as an adult I avoided him as best I could without losing contact with my Mom. I never let him hold his grandson, I told him I didn't trust him and I didn't. And when he was dying I couldn't tell him I loved him, I just said "goodbye daddy". Believe it or not, sober he was an amazing man, good looking, athletic, good provider for his family, fun, and my Mom and brother worshiped the ground he walked on. My brother still does, he visibly winces when I remind him of some of our experiences. He would rather not think of those times, he prefers to just remember the amazing man, sadly in the past he has had his own problems with alcohol. Pretty destructive stuff.


Sorry all, this rant was proof positive that poetry can push buttons. My dad died 40 years ago and the voices in my head when I started to write were like it was yesterday. Trauma comes in all shapes and sizes. We each have to decide how to live with ours.



~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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Benjamin and dedalus: thanks for your comment and validation of my concerns.


fdelano: I share your love of the booze even as I explore the limits of my sobriety...i agree that all is well when practiced in moderation.


Tinker: thanks for your kind words and story...your experience is heartbreaking...I can't imagine living under those conditions...im sorry if I brought back those old memories...maybe your brother is on to something by blocking them out of his mind...and I agree that we all have our "trauma" and have to figure out how best to live with it..

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  • 1 month later...
David W. Parsley

For someone who never had this particular problem up close and personal, it is eye opening and devastating to read the poem and the commentary to follow. Definitely cathartic.



- Dave

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