Bar Poems - Poems about Bar

A HONKY TONK WOMAN named ANGIE heads out to our bar every night. And those WILD HORSES with hombres show up to get drunk or to fight. Bar's sign, “RUBY TUESDAY” is red; behind, though, they did PAINT IT BLACK. Some sit down to start TUMBLIN DICE; ROLLING STONES stop by for cognac. Now, Angie and I hit it off;...

Continue reading...

Fireflies in my bourbon (PART 4 OF 10) The bar looks haunted today, Jukebox playing requiems as long songs, Cigarette smoke suffocating air in between inhalations,A man knows he needs air to fill his lungs.Yet here i am bending knee so you don't leave my lungs ,however I'm gasping for air as if I'm drowning in words such...

Continue reading...

Drunk man and Truth. (PART 3 OF 10: WHISKEY BLUES) The barman knows my demons and knows how to cage them,the bar is broad as spine of a mountain when mine is collapsing on carrying guilt. Days pass as my whiskey burning my throat I learnt that I was trying to burn your name off the lining of...

Continue reading...

100 Whiskey Shots. (Part 2 of 10) You warned me not to visit bars at night, Now what must I.do after our bad fight? The street lights are a flicker of your smile Not as bright ,yet so subtle to moments to come. There is a pattern of sincerity in your calm, Yet now we are headed in different dirences by a...

Continue reading...

Blues and Memories fleeting. (part 1 of 10) I wrote suicide note on sweating whiskey glass, Pain pleading on moments pass. Pet names on cords of base guitar Piano naming memories for each black and white bars, I started seeing those memories enveloped in scars. Fleeting but leaving behind Traces of you dancing to a dying flame of a...

Continue reading...

A bar singer asked for a request But all he got was "give it a rest" He said "I know that song" "Please all do sing along" In that moment he felt truly blessed. He started to sing and he got jeered His eyes then filled up in floods of tears So he ran out the door Was...

Continue reading...

He sits a shadow at the bar's dim light; a refuge from the storm that rages through his night. His eyes, like two wells—deep and dark with pain, reflect the turmoil that his heart can not contain. His wife—a nagging wind that howls and whines; a constant reminder of his troubles and declines— drives him to drink; to drown the din,...

Continue reading...

So: thinker, “personality” and actor are looking for a drink. If two of them are trailers, one’s a tractor. “Nice counter-top. Real zinc?” “Don’t ask them stuff. They memorise words of better men, to spout ’em!” “And his type feels the need to gather herds of sycophants about ’em.” “There’s zinc in every human enzyme. Fact.” “An enzyme? Qu’est-ce que c’est?” “A catalyst which helps...

Continue reading...

Side Bar You Don't Appreciate What You Don't Have If You Don't Have It. Did I Say That Right? Whatever. Something Like That. Who Cares? -Gray Squirrel 05-01-2025...

Continue reading...

128 Gallon of Milk "The unique medium" Castile Dermal they spoke as his name. They said he was an original person with some great ideas. He refused to see past the frustration of the word can't. Some saw him as a great person , nut others either needly wished him to fail or go away. He would use his knowledge of science to make better conditions were historically people who had needed...

Continue reading...

They gather where the signs hang crooked, under gaslight glare and broken clocks, where the barkeep’s eyes are twin shot glasses— fogged, but watching. Gin Lane rolls in on tired boots, her laughter sharp as shattered glass. Beer Street hums a fatter tune, slumped in booths of sticky leather. They meet at the hinge of last call, where poetry is slurred and prophets mumble. A...

Continue reading...

An Irish Themed Limerick Poetry Contest Tania Kitchin At the pubs across the Ireland nights It's a clover field under the lights Irish men love to pluck Stray petals with good luck They like the pink clovers in their sights...

Continue reading...

32 Bar Blues: A Spoken Word Poem In the shadow of the neon’s dusty glow, Oh, the blues, got me cryin’/echoes of Otis Span whisper, “Why?” Champion Jack Dupree, a voice so true, I’m lost in the Bad Luck blues/ In a world of broken souls, where the road to nowhere stretches on, I...

Continue reading...

"Do you want ice with It?" Why not, the deep snow will be more slidable. I rattle the cubes. A snowstorm keeps me twisting and corkscrewed even when at rest. 'Not too cold for you?" I am muffled cocooned in layers of invisibility. My spine is insulated, flesh mummified yet under these red lights, I almost glow. "Where are all your friends?" They shelter in empty shot glasses, the whisky in...

Continue reading...

*Written for the Ten Lines From Ten Poem Poetry Contest on Poetry Soup My tongue, the warmth, my eyes close again. I breathe steady while I blink consciously, chocolate on my breath, in my underwear, fresh lipstick on. You’ve fallen in love with me. You told me. In my heart,...

Continue reading...