guts of a burglar/dreams of a drunk

Reads: 152  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Poems by Luke Johnston Piper

Submitted: August 13, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 13, 2016





Laugh at it all, it’s all that you can do. Laugh at waking up, laugh at death.

Don’t laugh when you see a homeless man, but be grateful you’re not him.
Laugh when you are cited for being drunk in public. Sing when they let you go

Dream so freely, the dream consumes you. Laugh when people tell you who

you are. Pray you will never have to go to school again. Laugh when you

remember how high you were when you were there. Sing a sad song when

you are most happy, just to remind yourself to never get to high. When death

comes and finally stares you in the face, laugh and say what took you so long?




To make a glorious deal with life, to take advantage of

what are mother gives freely. To reach a cloud every so

gently. To stay there and meet total bliss from suffering.

Feel the river boat take you on down the stream.  A

dream becomes a dream becomes a dream.


A Beer in Bed


A beer in bed is a sad song, a lonley day, a walk in the park. A beer

in this bed is a gamble, a little drop of rain, A cigarette that burns forever.  A beer in bed is a city, far from home, hoping that you can get up. A beer in bed is a symphony, a blues singer smoking weed, a guitar only slightly out of tune.


Dreams of the damned

Running in the street high on drugs. Dreams are made for those who love. Endless lust and pure thought. Never say goodbye and never give up. Drinking for fun and drunk on bad luck. Running in the street high on drugs. The night never ends until the morning comes. Neon lights, neon Love, take my hand and stay the night, the dreams of the damned will never die.



Jim’s has been down and out, says he’ll move to florida when the snow comes around. A mountain dew and pack smokes to start the day. T.v says 80 degrees, Jim nods and agrees.  Never loved nobody but his dog and he died last week. No more walks in the park, no more slobber everywhere. No more barking in the night, no more shit on the stairs. Jim's been down and out, can't cry anymore, says it was fun while it lasted. Now his brains  all over the floor.



Drinking your days away, smoking to ease the pain, escape the thoughts inside your head. Remember all the times drunk on couches, all the time high in classrooms. Mockingbird sing me a song, take me back to days far long. Back to mad dog days, back to the wild endless haze, mockingbird take me home.


Guts of a burglar/Dreams of a drunk


The guts of a burglar and the dreams of a drunk. All you needed was a little luck. Only a bottle to your name, no fortune or fame, love was just a false poison. Dreams are free and sometimes, love. Only sometimes because of the things you give up. I;ve had it all and i threw it away, but it in the end you can’t take it anyway. So forgive, love and never give in because your life is gonna end.


The hot days of july, burning skin, beers and whiskey until you cave in.

Smiling  through the endless days, the people think that they’ll


win. Take a gamble, a 2 dollar swindle in a game that never ends .


The hot days of july remind me of we’re all burning,burning for

something more than nothing.




Sometimes you just have to scream Fuck really loud. It’s the only

way to get through the tedious task of living( A strong drink and

never hurt). How do we do it, how do

we go ever so gently to the grave?Power, money fame, what are these

things? Only more elaborate mind tricks ,the most sadistic junk i’ve ever seen.

Keep to your love of something pure, Wether it be music, or simply loving someone, art is more than what you can stare at or read. Love is

the greatest art form there is, and most of the time the hardest



Momma says clean your room, dad says go to school. Brotha gone away never coming back again, i’ve always been alone and never had anything to do. Sister says she loves him and that’s nothing new. Grandma high again, Grandpa knows too much about the blues. Livin in the city, drinking like a fish. Try to forget about all my friends. Sarah said she’d be there next week and lied again. She says she loves me but I won’t hold my breath.


A Most glorious shit


Looking back on some of the the most satisfying things that have happened to me in this short life, I can only look back at one as a particular highlight. Going to school is a drag for anyone, (I especially hated the teachers. Most of them couldn’t tell you which way is up). One day I was having a normal shity day for a school day and remember not turning in any homework in any class and at least 3 teachers yelling at me. Getting shit on all day kind of makes you want to shit on someone to. Again I didn’t have a ride home after school so I decided to walk, I made it to the park and all the restrooms were locked up, ( Fuck I thought what the fucks the point of having them???) So steadily I made it home walking through people's yards. I noticed that there was a strange vehicle at  my house that looked like somebody was fixing sum shit. After not seeing anyone I walked into the bathroom to take my glorious shit, (totally missing the sign on the door that read “Don’t Use”) When I was finished I noticed the sign on the door and went upstairs to hide. 5 minutes later my mom is at my door telling me I shit on a plummer. God dam i

thought, everyone gets shit on, it’s not only me and mine is only figurative, that dudes life must really suck. I couldn’t look the dude in the eyes my mom made me apologies though, he probably wanted to kick my ass. Later on i found out that the guy was one of my friends dad’s friends and he was telling everyone the story. Life gets you down, but it can always be worse, Fake shit, can turn into real shit really fast, so count your blessings and drink a high life.



When anxiety creeps in and you think of death,

it often takes hours to get over this.

In the wee small minutes and the passing of life,

the only help is the passing of time.


Fill the Void

I don’t know what it is about drinking alone, but I find true solace in it. To be alone with your thoughts but not feel them is a true gift from the gods. A great man said “a person can work up a mean mean thirst after a long day of nothing much at all” No truer words have been spoken. THe void needs to be filled and Alcohol has filled my void the most. So a toast to you if you're reading this.


P.s go fuck yourself.



I try to be cool with everyone I meet.  Not because i'm a good person not because i'm righteous or holy. Just because i’ve never met someone i’ve truly understood. Not in the sense of understanding but in the sense, of knowing all they've been through. All the thoughts that plague me, i’m sure are plaguing them. There is never a reason to hate, never a reason not to empathies. I’m not saying sing kumbaya, i'm not saying you have to love everyone, but just understand that everyone is going to die and that's enough to make anyone crazy.


One thought away


Waking up with disdain day after day, Pain is only how you perceive it.

Only when you’ve felt pure disgust for your own soul, only when you

know everyone in the world dosn’t know shit.  Only when

you’ve gone to school and felt that a 12 gage round to the chest would

be the sweetest relief. Only when canabis could ease the pain,

The pain of nothing, of a pain that wasn’t even there. You realize this

only when it doesn't matter, only finally when death is so near, can you

really feel that nothing truly matters, only how you handle the thoughts

in your head, you are only one thought away from madness.



We can’t choose are family, blood is blood, it is a terrible waste

to not love blood though, this is only circumstantial. When you

search and search then finally find the people you truly love,

this is what real family feels like. We are all damaged, torn

to shreds, discombobulated and a few of the lucky ones MAD.

To be a great confusion among the masses. To find someone

who has bled as much as you. To feel as though you were truly

understood even once in your life, is worth an eternity of



So many things Take Time


So many things take time, your life, your death, a single breath

in a hurricane rumble. So many things take time, a nickel on

a dime in a alleyway. So many things take time, a rhythm, a

melody, on sunday in november. All is well ,though time a,

jingle, a jingle, a beat of a heart drumming to the 4/4 of

life. So many things time though, vast and slow, I wait,

in the darkness of my lonely room, like Freda Payne. So

many people take my time away, on a day so strange.

Love comes from unsung journeys into vast conversations,

into places that have no place in time, voids of all reality.

So many things will take your time, a hooker,a priest, a bottle on

lease, so many things take time.


Go fuck yourself


What's your problem? Why do you do these things? Why hugh? What's your fucking problem? My fucking problem is these days that never seem to end. Dumb relationships that are nothing, but an endless stream of hopelessness.My problem is empty bottles and empty dreams, nothing comes true just endless wishes in the bottom of the well. Your future is done they say your done they say, there isn't a future, only the now and if you're lucky enough to have it why take the 2/1 gamble of you soul not being here much longer, if you even have soul. Why am i so fucked up because the whole system is fucked and i refuse to spread my cheeks and say thanks for the opportunity to die a most egregious death. Thanks for the advice, there's more truth in self destruction than self preservation.


Talking to people at work, i;ve started  to see that everyone feels a general disdain for moving.

But like drugs it feels a void.

It gives you a false sense that things will get better.

This is why i think there is so much disdain. Not that it is hard to

physically move all your useless shit.

It’s because the back of your mind you know nothing is going to

change, you know deep down things will always be the same,

no matter what shit whole you find yourself in.



New Song

Listening to a new song, feeling good with every second.

The sound consumes the background noise.

The wavvves  of pure bliss, travel the ear to the brain.

Pleasure drug of greatness.

Song’s deserve more, from you, from me, from all of us.

Music is the greatest thing we’ve ever came up with and I won't suspect anything

more beautiful could come out such horrible beings.

© Copyright 2018 Luke Johnston Piper. All rights reserved.