SOBER POETRY at The Sober Curator is where recovery and creativity intertwine. Featuring heartfelt poems from contributors and readers, this collection captures the raw emotions, triumphs, and challenges of living alcohol-free.
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Sober Poetry at The Sober Curator is a space where recovery and creativity meet. It features heartfelt verses that capture the emotions of sobriety. Written by various Sober Curator Contributors and readers about their recovery journeys, these poems provide inspiration, healing, and reflection for readers seeking solace and connection.
Do you have a sober poem you’d love to submit? Please email us at thesobercurator@gmail.com.
This is the space where recovery and creativity meet. It features heartfelt verses that capture the emotions of sobriety and recovery.
I wake up in sweat My heart it pounds I can’t catch my breath The dark surrounds I am in…
The disastrous decade of carnage; the turbulent twenties. Where Impulsive and toxic behaviours were plenty. Fleeing from relationships with women,…
Months have passed since I stopped running from the truth. Months since my diagnosis stopped feeling like a verdict and…
Highways, Heartache, and Hangovers: Our Rehab Odyssey Along the Least Coast We were addicts in love, hitchhiking through chaos. The…
My love, My words escape me, like elusive phantoms slipping through trembling fingers. The sickness has come for me again,…
Spring, springin, springan to leap, to jump, to burst forth, Bursting forth light white pink flowers from tree’s branches, The…
My addiction was a drunken, cocaine-fueled weekend that stretched across years, a house party with no music left and no…
A cocktease pours a glass of waterCocktail he would call this drinkSipped from a tale too tallthat the man himself…
The first drop falls and then another. Not rushed. Not loud. A beginning made of hush. The soil stirs. Not from hunger— but memory. Stone remembers…
My mind is a vortex, but I am not my mind. Poetry is a desperate expression trying to meet its…
The hum of an air conditioner draws you back, Back to me, Away from the swirl of thoughts that hover…
My mental health journey is like doing a boardslide all the way around the Warehouse in Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater…
The six-headed beast sits perched on her rock, Scylla. Across from her, the twin disaster, swirling, the whirlpool, Charybdis. How…
The ocean chews at the shore, gnashing with a nervous tide, waves walloping, splitting sand apart in their fury. Saltwater…
What if all the horrible things we do to ourselves In our minds and in our hearts Are to keep…
sunrise sobriety soul by soul gathering together as one in a room with no walls and…
We danced around the periphery with fairy wings Throwing glitter that caught the light Hips swaying in the shimmer The…
It seems that in its search for eternal balance, my brain has decided that for every time I feel good,…
In the budding grove of my desire he took me Before I knew about consent, he stole me away, here…
This is a poem from a newcomer in recovery asking a sober mentor, spiritual advisor, friend, or sponsor what it’s…
Sometimes I wish I could die at my desk. I could silently slide into the bliss of never having to…
Some books leave a quiet yet profound impact on their readers, and Alex’s poetry collection, I Learned How to Love From…
A poem written to King Alcohol. In it, I remind myself that I am worthy of a sober life. Enjoy.…
We were caught in the rapture of it all, our youth, a wild unwritten thing – holding hands and…
Fear didn’t think that I would show up today, But I did, and I’m here Hate thought I’d relate, but…
I know that it’s hard Drinking for the day like it’s no tomorrow Through happiness and sorrow Drinking for the…
I never had a father, Just a sperm donor Who acted like a father So that society would feed his…
One day I awoke and told myself I was sad. Thus, my childhood died. I remember smiles; laughter from the…