Best Bar Poems
How high the bar that makes a poet Real!
(He walks in mists, and shadows of himself)
To be a poet, is to burn with steel
Set short time in the forge, the lesser self!
He brands his heart with fiery words, set down
And burns his mind with thinking, ‘til it glows,
He hopes, of sonnets, his will be the Crown,
And hopes that all the brilliance of light, shows!
But, oftener, he writes a humble piece,
A few words cramped into a simple form,
But somehow, in his feelings, a release!
Yes, humble-bumble often is the norm.
And that high bar, he reaches seldom, and
Leaves barefoot footprints in the fruity sand.
2/20/2019
Our oldest light goes by the name cosmic
microwave background radiation—
CMB for short. She's everywhere:
fluorescent birdsong of modern offices,
hum of corner store ice cream cases.
Have you heard of her? This gal was born
screaming into freedom from the expansion
of a bang so big we're still talking about it.
Expelled from the recombination's gender-
less cervix, before there were names for things
like body, or heat, or quiet. She slid through
the pitch of first dark, not yet sure what
edges were, dragging the weight of a beginning
behind, shelter for and shedding of photons
loosened from a fire she didn't start.
Somewhere in this thirteen-billion-year drift
her lips kissed the eyelids of stars that hadn’t
learned to die yet, passed the chubby fists
of planets still cooling in their cribs. Fell into gravity
wells, bent her spine around a gape of black holes,
and climbed back up again, tired but full.
We call her background now, like she's an afterthought,
the hum of hums beneath the humming—we call her 'it'.
Add a T to her beginning and we might as well
call her mother. And when she reaches us, frail
and stretched thin, we catch her in our instruments
(where we found her), our desperate, outstretched hands.
For our effort, like a good genie enduring a bad rub,
she tells the story of our origin from a certain point—
then distracts us with tricks when we ask her about
the end of it.
He walks into the bar
Like a movie star
With swagger
Out pouring the lager
Topped by a mop
Of such mythical proportion
It hushes the crowd
With its absorption
More adorn
Than a unicorn
Waving a pompadour
As big as a brontosaur
9/3/2019
Swagger Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier
News flash
Huge bash
Big fight
Last night
Clyde's Bar
Bizarre
War zone
Chairs thrown
Snouts poked
Gals choked
Eyes blacked
Ribs cracked
Hair snatched
Backs scratched
Throats slashed
Heads bashed
Tossed stools
Blood pools
Ears chewed
Tossed food
Knees kicked
Knives pricked
Low blows
Stomped toes
Dames sprawled
Cops called
Clyde's closed
Foreclosed
The evening
is soigné in outfits of rumpled elegance
at the tables and on the bar stools,
resplendent with a necklace
of glistening notes from the piano
in the corner,
rouged by the blushes imprisoned
in our wine glasses.
Let's stay for a while then,
until the blushes have flown to our cheeks,
the patrons are back on the streets
or between the sheets,
the pianist has played the last song,
and the night is done,
or waiting to begin,
its shyness shed.
There is a very trendy Smoothie Bar down town
Called ‘FruitiBaTuti’ but known to all as FBT
Where a colourful bunch of close friends work
All happy, hardworking and dedicated to their duty
FBT is a busy hip and happening place
Daily, customers line out the door
Waiting for smoothies considered supreme
Like they have never experienced before
Paul Passionfruit is the owner of FBT
A fair and fun boss
FBT is his love and passion
His staff have never seen him cross
FBT’S manager is Annie Apple
A fresh faced ,crisp, sweet girl
Until she starts drinking cider
Then her inner party girl unfurls
Second in charge is Freddie Fig
A charismatic ,charming lad
So chillaxed that he doesnt give a fig
When FBT gets crazy busy mad
Louie Lemon is a member of staff
He is known for being quite sour
Yet when working at FBT
He is a honey and often the man of the hour
Grapes is another sweet member of the team
Who is kind and cares a whole bunch
He likes to party with Annie Apple
Drinking way too much wine when it comes to the crunch
Mango is a popular staff member
Pretty ,happy , her heart aglow
Regularly with a new boyfriend in tow
As she keeps letting her man-go
Pineapple is the newest member of staff
She is keen to learn though at times a little unsure
Her big dream is to eventually be ‘just an apple’
She pines to possess the apple allure
Dates is the Casanova of the staff
Often on dating apps swiping left or right
Looking for the perfect, soft ,luscious woman
Though he secretly has Mango in his sight
Peter Pomegranate is the joker of the team
Funny , forever making everyone laugh
He comes from a little village in England
Nicknamed Pommie by both customers and staff
Strawberry, Blueberry and Raspberry are sisters
They are the casual and relief staff at FBT
Sweet, bright and accomodating
Each sister is berry, berry special indeed
Cool music is played at FBT
With conversation and laughter abound
The vibe and ambience is upbeat and lively
Come down, meet the staff, have a smoothie and enjoy the surrounds!
Oh, give me cake with double chocolate
And strawberry with sweetened cream whipped stiff.
And if you have a cake named butter nut,
I’ll have that too. For just a little whiff
of carrot cake with pineapple thrown in,
I’ll go bananas! Come to think of it,
I might as well go all out in my sin
and also order a banana split!
Each scoop of ice cream different I will take -
one scoop of toffee flavor, one of mint,
and walnut too with slices of my cake!
Let cherries, butterscotch, and caramel drop
onto it all until I say to stop!
written Oct. 25, 2015
For the All This Melts in Your Mouth Poetry Contest of Olive Eloisa Guillermo
one waiter
ten tables
a sunshade and chair
a small cup
strong coffee
the sun in the square.
the fountain
a church door
the white heat and glare
graffitti
neat flowers
the sun in the square.
a slight breeze
a pigeon
a clock chime somewhere
a small dish
one euro
the sun in the square.
All For A Klondike Bar!
I would sail the mighty blue sea,
Tame a puffy green dragon to flip like a flea,
With the Queen have tea and crumpets dressed as a drag queen,
Run the Boston Marathon without wearing a thing,
Ride a hundred camels through downtown Miami,
Become the pink bottle Genie,
Drive across the US in mobile hot dog wienie.
Wear an itsy bitsy bikini on TV,
all with the hopes of biting into a cold crisp,
creamy Klondike bar!
A coffee bar with orange paint --
Brown tables on a tiled, grey floor --
Soft light within blown glass above --
A neon sign hangs by the door.
I come here sometimes just to write.
A coffee bar with orange paint
To some would be apalling; but
I do not see it as a taint.
Tonight an artist's work is hung
Upon those walls in bold display;
A coffee bar with orange paint
Allows her dreams to have their say.
I like the color in these walls --
A brazen hue, not pale or quaint;
And in this place I weave my words --
A coffee bar with orange paint.
Here's egg in your face,
friend
Go cry in your beer,
dear
Time to clear out of here,
quee---
Oops!
Sportin' a wrap on one foot
A hard grimace set on his jaw
A Beagle walked in, holdin a grudge
Because somebody shot his paw!
He growled, "Pour me a rain water,"
"And none of that chlorine laced crap"
The Bar dog, a well known poodle,
Said, "Sir, I take umbrage at that!"
A German Shepard said, "I'm Sheriff,"
"In charge of the pet carrier clink"
"Don't get a bee in your bonnet"
"And bar dog will pour you a drink"
The Beagle said, "I'm an abandon,"
"Raised in dirty alleys and such"
"That bein' said, about my bite,"
"It's worse than my bark, but not much"
Bar dogs sister, Pixie Poodle
Said, "Hold on boys I know this cur"
"In fact we met in an alley,"
"But I'll vouch for this Beagle for sure!"
She and the Beagle left together
Her brother, of course, had a fit!
Not to be tellin' tails out of school,
But theirs were waggin' quite a bit!
They restricted celebrations,
forget your relations.
They restricted travel,
watched families unravel.
They restricted purchases,
no provided services.
They closed the schools,
those were the new rules.
They closed the churches,
no Sunday soul searches.
They closed the gyms
and the flab begins.
They closed the restaurants,
forget sweet tooth wants.
They closed the theaters,
no full-length features.
They closed retail stores,
no welcoming doors.
They closed the bars,
murmurs of wars.
Society accepted it as well as they could,
as everyone felt the need to be good.
But then they closed the brothel –
an act so heinously hostile –
What? You call that a plan!
That’s when the fight began.
Souls of the unborn, caressed by the meadows’ gentle winds.
Seeking their mothers arms, for they were
blessed, beautiful twins!
She’s vaping Fentanyl in a bar, looking for a new, hot lover?
A murderess, in tight jeans and sweater, her
deadly deed, under cover.
Not alone, she….her sisters from the morning‘s Pro-Choice rally,
Cheering on death of souls to be, in a phantasmagoric.
rat-filled alley.
11/28/2022
Please, Raise High The Bar For Love's Gifts
Please, lets' welcome light's dear return
To water soul of those that hate spurn,
Evil calls of world 's constant greed,
Thus harken to help those in need.
Please, praise those that welcome the light
Those that in truth and love delight,
Whilst striving to help fellow man,
And thus seed the truth of God's plan.
Please, raise high the bar for love's gifts
For light and love truly uplifts,
The hope and joy in daily life,
Denies dark its sharp cutting knife.
Please, let God's light onto life shine
To water souls, both yours and mine,
Growing life's flowers and much more,
Lighting path to Heavenly shores.
Please, lets' welcome light's dear return
To water soul of those that hate spurn,
Evil calls of world 's constant greed,
Thus harken to help those in need.
Robert J. Lindley, 5-28- 2022
Rhyme
Note:
So comes the positive benefits of a pen inking
The truth of light, love and future hope……