Best Boozing Poems


A Futuristic Christmas- For Contest

Twenty fifth of December, three thousand and four
and already I'm down in the dumps
we're round at the neighbour's via tubes that save labour
propelled by some hydraulic pumps.
We've exchanged all our presents and got them unwrapped
once again I've got self-cleaning socks
the wife's Kevlar panties, though they are quite scanty
are going straight back in the box.
I'm constantly goaded to eat nuts they've downloaded
they'll try any tactic to feed ya
but the problem, I quibble is that some have been nibbled
as they're passed around on social media.
We're looking for doorways or just any more ways
to find a quick route to get out
and escape if we're able, being chased round the table
by genetically modified sprouts.
They've offered a glass of Martian Pinot noir
and they tell me it's alcohol free
so there goes my boozing and afternoon snoozing
and waking up just after tea.
Grandma kids are teasing, cryogenic freezing
means she won't wake up until noon
to find grapes in her hair and a plum, God knows where
and they've blocked up her nose with some spoons.
Don't know why they have bothered with plates that can hover
it seems so bone idle to me
they could have just handed the pudding that's landed
on the light fitting just above me.
The custard's abundant but the jug is redundant
administered now by syringe
and so is the Brandy which, though is quite handy
prevents us from having a binge.
When later we get back from fresh air and jet packs
remembering when we could walk
I'll look back fondly then to those Christmases when
we just used a knife and a fork.

November 16th 2015
For Contest 'A futuristic Christmas', sponsor Mystic Rose
© Viv Wigley  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Couplets

Politicians Wanted
must be sly
able to lie.

Naturist's Ball
nothing to wear
just come bare.

Rest In Peace
quick sudden death
grim reaper met.

One To many
all night boozing
all day snoozing.

Undocked
puppies For Sale
complete with tail.

Nigerian Lottery
notification of win
for recycle bin.

Downpour
saturated old Bella
forgot her umbrella.

Hard Landing
Jim's bad luck
cord was stuck.

In A Drift
Stuck in snow
Waiting for tow

Go Large
Extra French fries
Big fat thighs





Written 19th September 2018

Premium Member Gus

Many are the 'characters' I met while serving my nation.
Seems there's always one who stands out in every organization!
In Bermuda (where I fought the Korean War) was such a cuss.
He was my bunkmate and he went by the name of Gus!

Gus was the old man of the outfit, a staff sergeant as I recall.
He'd been up and down the ranks and boozing caused his fall!
Never to be promoted beyond 'staff'', he was happy with his lot.
Gus floated on cloud nine as long as he had his daily tot!

Near payday, funds depleted, out of booze, in a nervous funk,
He'd surreptitiously place this beseechng note upon my bunk:
"My boy, may I propose for your benevolent consideration,
A temporary loan for relief from my dire financial situation?"

Now, how could I deny his plea phrased in such flowing verse!
Besides, on payday, he'd promptly seek me out to reimburse!
On paydays, Gus and his pals were wont to go on a spree!
He'd relieve his bloated bladder nigh any convenient tree,

Proclaming, "Wherever you may be let your water flow free!"
(For some reason the local constables happened to disagree!)
Gus was a good man and I enjoyed our comradely association,
Despite his innate proclivity for intemperate intoxication!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved


Premium Member In Loving Memory

I strolled through the local cemetery the other day
And here are some epitaphs I observed along the way:

Cletus O'Toole lies herein
Too much boozing done him in!

Here lies a gambler molding in his crypt
Odds are he was shot by a chump he had gyped!

His spouse spotted him leaving a house of ill repute
In short order she done him in during a heated dispute!

Clyde raced down the mountain and failed to swerve
Meeting his doom on an S-shaped curve!

His plea to the judge was ruled to be moot
He was sentenced to hang for fencing some loot!

Buckaroo Bob was throwed from his horse
And was buried with his boots on as a matter of course!

The town ruffian was our late friend Keith
He met his match and was interred sans his teeth!

Pilot Pete's final radio message was, "Oh! Shoot!"
Seems he forgot to don his parachute!

Farrier Fred was a premier cobbler as a general rule
Alas, he was kicked in the head by an unruly mule!

Butcher Bruce was expert at wielding his knife
But in a fatal spat he was out-wielded by his wife!

POTD 24 June 2021

Rotate

7/22/21

People continuing to show hate
As if they themselves are so great
While the planet continues to rotate

Boy you need a lot more than Colgate
You thought it did, but it carried no weight
Don't make me, or I'll put you in yo place
The evidence will be difficult to locate

Only got 24 so I poured up some twenty fours
Ready for many more
It's been a deadly war
Pulled through with tremendous force
While I weathered any storms
The answers to such questions, is like seeking an endless source

People continuing to act fake
In good or bad shape 
Dealing with another backache
Life will give and it shall take

Let's get the facts straight
Life moves at a fast pace
Don't end up in last place
In this giant rat race

Why have they 
Continued to act that way
Been another bad day
Empty bottles and an ashtray
The same old pathway
Could just never keep it all at bay

It's been revolting
As life continues unfolding
After the whole thing
Not just a gold ring

Yet it always ends up being an ice cold drink
Empty or a full drink
Be bold or sink
Who am I kidding, I always got one, like it's a cool thing
What the f*** am I really doing?
Who am I truly fooling?
Why am I always smoking and boozing?
Winning and losing
At times it is or isn't amusing
As death is always looming
Underneath objects in the sky zooming
In space matter devoured by black holes that keep consuming

Regardless of if we once were schoolmates
It's all been a wild goose chase
People still being two faced
Calling others a fruitcake
Let me give ya'll a news break
I'm going to get much more than a few scrapes
While above and below sluice gates
Having a wallet and safe full of bills with a blue face
Still traveling through space
Got rid of the evidence, no need for a suitcase

Those that give and others who take
Coming in rough, obscure or smooth shapes
Close to estates that grew grapes
In order to make
Wine all the time, before it's all too late
Before it's all too late
What's getting accomplished if always you wait?
I'm going to continue to mutate
Getting it done before the due date
Otherwise it all would  be a huge waste

Premium Member Nugget

Jumbled jewels all glisten
Ready for a stint imprisoned
Stuck in setting glory losing
Witness to debauchery and boozing

Bound in filth a nugget found
Pasture yields a bounty fast
Cut and polished set for sale
No justice, lost from purity

The innocence of one destroyed
Full dishonor breeds contempt
All for glaring wicked posture
Marked for life, no one exempt

Folly fires to polarize
Collared painful revelry
No return to sanitize
Bedecked the dead in jewelry


Try Her Up

3 am in the morning
Everybody is sleeping
Some of them are snoring 
Maybe others are boozing
And the rest making out and moaning
Conclusion, everyone’s enjoying this night
Doing this doing that
Everybody is busy somehow 
Only me lying on this 30 years old sofa
Listening to 90s boring música 
And drinking my 3rd bottle of cola
Conclusion again, my prosaic life bores me to tears 
Dear TV,
Why don’t these couples within you break up?
They brawl everyday
I don’t understand how they can have 4 children?
Are they F***ing human or am I an alien?
Come sit with me and tell me the story
Of those girls that you call sexy dolly 
I’ve bought a million mirrors
But they all shattered before uttering a damn thing to me
My friends always stick a winkey on my empty yellow smiley 
They say mine is so freaking spooky
Honesty I do adore seeing my body wearing on
That pinky booty they call cutie pouty
Because No one cares either I look nasty or shapely
I’m neither sad nor mad
I’m not jealous but I’m completely pooped 
Sick of acting in several movies in one day
I admit that I’m a phony actress
And an unpretty liar
I don’t hate myself but I don’t like it anyway
I’m not blaming you but I can’t get over you 
I wish I could turn back time and try to be good for you
One more chance to look prettier than her
One more chance to act cuter than her
Please say it wasn’t my fault if I’m replaced by her
Please help me shut down this voice of guiltiness deep in my heart
I’m begging you to give me one last chance to be better than her
But I can see your beautiful smile smacking your mouth when you look at her 
Yes I know you’re living happily now ‘cause of her
So I'm dying to Ctrl C ~ Ctrl V her,
 I'm craving to try her up, to feel her, touch her and suck her gravity just to be her 
‘Cause she is the one I should’ve been to make you stay 
And I’m the one you shouldn’t have met from the start

Premium Member A Fou Bet

We met in yonder tavern
hay up top o' meikle hill
bousing  nappy til a' fou
the nite drave on wi' rairing voices
an the nappy growing better
a souter gars a bet wi' lades o' siller
the deil laughs as they skelpit 
slippin' in the dub. Ro'nd birch
an meikle stane they slipped and slid
sic boldness as at deil th'y laughed
full wi' tippeny  fearing nae evil.
auld Nick ken weel his turn was nigh
turning into a meikle towzie tyke
hay pounced an thy muck'd thir breeks
an skelpit lik  pussie's for shelter
thou'll get thy fairin laughed the deil
as they reach'd safty o' key-stane
ae was shaking kenning thy luck that nite.

translation

A Drunk Bet

We met in yonder tavern
high up on top of huge hill
boozing strong ale until drunk
the night drove on with roaring voices
A cobbler makes a bet with loads of money
the devil laughs as they raced 
slipping in the mud . Round birch 
and huge stone they slipped and slid.
Such boldness as at devil they laughed
full with whisky not fearing evil.
Auld Nick knew well his turn was near
turning into a huge shaggy dog 
he pounced and they messed their trousers
and raced like hares for shelter.
You will get what's coming
at them laughed the devil
as they reached the safety of the key stone
each was shaking knowing they were lucky that night.

A Portrait of Vincent Vangogh

To the proud parents, Anna and Theo
A serious lad, silent and thorough
A clan of preachers
And dealers of art
From the southern Netherlands came Van Gogh

When sent to school, he did not want to go
The separation led to much sorrow
But he learned to draw
Whatever he saw
Sent off to sell art in Paris, Van Gogh

His happiest time, and now in love, oh
Till the landlady’s daughter told him no
Now a broken heart
Surly to sell art
Fired from his job in Paris, Van Gogh

Vincent sought out a coal miners’ burrow
A priest of sorts, but a squalid fellow
The church was appalled
And cursed his resolve
To the asylum for crazy Van Gogh?

His father baffled, on the verge of foe
Art interest, once again, began to grow
Back to school again
This time, in His name
To paint in the service of God, Van Gogh

School’s out, back to his parents he would go
Using neighbors as subjects to ditto
Proposed to his cousin
Which she found disgustin’
Burning his hand to see her, holy Van Gogh!?!

Now off to The Hague, a family furlough
To live with Sien, a boozing bimbo
A man to see ya…
Caught gonorrhea
Three weeks in the hospital for Van Gogh

The pain of loneliness drove him back home
Once again, a failed love with fair Margot
Then Vincent’s father died
He grieved deeply inside
The tragedy further refined Van Gogh

Finally, Vincent’s work was in the know
“The Potato Eaters” made an art show
Just add more color
Said his dear brother 
Rubens brightened the dark gloom of Van Gogh

Vincent’s diet: coffee and tobacco
Mixed with absinthe began to take its toll
Though he kept on painting
Then Paris, more training
The end was getting closer for Van Gogh

The masters: Monet, Degas, Pissarro
Cezanne, and Seurat in his studio
Influenced his style
Learning all the while
That time was running out for Mr. Van Gogh

Then he moved to Arles, bad health in tow
Completing great works the whole world would know 
“Sunflowers” (in vase)
“The Café Terrace”
Minus one ear, the frail, ailing Van Gogh

With his tattered mind, and mournful woe
Committed to the asylum, Mausole
With his final works
“The Church at Auvers”
“Starry Night” was painted in pain, Van Gogh

“At Eternity’s Gate”, he was sorrow
Wandered into a field, farmer’s fallow
Put a bullet in his chest
In hopes of peaceful rest
“The sadness will last forever”, Van Gogh

A Gallant Bride

Tomorrow’s history makers
Future record breakers
Are the infants of this day
They should be taught well
In order to lead the way

They should be taken forward
In the fear of God 
By the responsible one’s above them
Ye parents, guardians and lecture givers
Train them to keep of boozing 
Instruct them never to go logger heads

Improve their knowledge of moral uprightness
So as not to make their regime
Bite the just

Our guardians of later days
Subtract yourselves from the disguised devils
Less they turn you into a bag of disgust
Make yourself confident in yourself
And keep a cold shoulder 
Of relying on them
Or at last you become failure’s hosts

Disembark from the plane of the unjust
And board the plane of the just
Desist from hitting below the belt
And permit fairplay to rule
For it is a praise worthy value

Let the truth prevail in all you do
Let your attitude be reflected in your records
So as to be known as an accountable man
And a scrupulously honest woman
Always be on the level
So that they would be your face saver
When the doubting Thomas talks

Deprive yourself from going against the rules 
Even when you fail 
But move on gallantly 
Till you win the race 
Lend a helping hand 
To those who lose 
When you win

Cease to get satisfied 
With where you are 
Escape from the clutches of laziness
For it hinders your success
Put your best foot forward 
And work as if your whole life depends on it

Don’t mask yourself from your responsibility
Express love and care to your mother land
Show her all the beauty
She possess inside her
Give her the strength of pride 
To be a gallant bride.      
                                    Omebe Rita
© Omebe Rita  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Newsing and Boozing

There's a virus going around
And people getting sick
Some are even dying 
From a germ, that they can't kick

There's an asteroid, it's flying
on it's undetected path
Aiming for the earth
To just unleash its wrath


chorus
There's a million things they tell you,
design to cause you fear
So, just relax and have another beer


There are terrorist, they say, came home to roost  
Others over seas are busy buying Nukes
The end of the world, could be happening today
If it isn't now, it's likely on it's way

chorus 
There's a million things they tell you,
design to cause you fear 
So, just relax and have another beer

Premium Member Split In Twain By Divorce

LIMERICK

You can have the two kids but not the hound
And I'll need the Caddie to get around
Said she I'll take the house
You good for nothin' louse
By your cock and bull I will not be bound

HAIKU

love that drifts apart
like two diverging rivers
ne'er to flow as one

COUPLET

Their marriage made in heaven was as solid as the Rock of Gibraltar
'Til his boozing and roving eyes caused the whole affair to falter

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Placed No. 5 in PDs "Divorce Club" Contest - December 2010

Me and Nellie Mcgee

That's not my elephant, the barman said, when last I went a boozing 
Then threw at me a grin filled glance, that was a long way from amusing
You brought him here, you bring him home, your game I’m not abetting
So pack your trunk, get out, your barred, no more drink you’re getting

So sadly I made the long journey home, my poor legs weak as jelly
I could perhaps have caught a cab but they would not take Nellie
Later as we passed a takeaway, the warm smell assailed my senses
I ordered spaghetti and parmesan cheese, Nellie just had lettuce

My door key I could nowhere find, when at last I reached my home
I had no choice but to ring the bell, the wife Ella soon came down
Her words, would cause a crimson blush, on face’s of horse traders
I have not experienced such awful fear since I was in 2nd graders

She insisted that, ‘Nellie’, was but just, a figment of my imagination
And that if I didn’t get off to bed, I’d end up in prone prostration
Now I’ve lost my new best friend, and sweet alcohol fuelled nights
She’s taken from me the will to live. and rewritten the bill of right





4th in Contest, That's Not My Elephant,  by Matt Caliri

Waste No Time

We were friends for years
Then you alarmingly disappeared
With no notice, no warning
To my heart, it's jarring
It's pierced my inner core
I won't be seeing you anymore
We always planned to have that drink
And carry on about the good ole days
I know you're in a better place
I don't know why we stayed away
When we were kindred spirits from the start
It wasn't about the drink or my boozing
It was fear that you wouldn't deem me amusing
Reflecting after learning you're gone, we would have picked up right where we left off.
Make time for those who count
If the love was there at the onset, there will never be a doubt
Make sure those who occupy your heart
Know they're eternally loved
Before they're suddenly gone
And you are hollow, empty, vacant
Lamenting their loss
Make time for that drink
Don't sleep on it
Stew over it
Think you're not worthy
Or they no longer value you
Let that sink in
Treasure those near and dear, my friends
For the Lord's gonna call them home one day
And you can't pinpoint the time when you'll see them again

This Slimming Lark

I am wanting to look good.
It is high time that I should
The mirror in the wardrobe told me so
I am now no longer fit
Just an old decrepit git
Who lost his youthful figure long ago

My hair is going grey
Doesn’t look like it will stay 
My teeth are on the sideboard in a glass
I’ve somehow lost my zip
and put inches on my hip
I spend too much time sitting on my ****

If I’m not consuming grub
I’ll be boozing down the pub
At keeping fit I am an abject failure
And when I’m in the nude
My belly does protrude
So much so that I cant see my genitalia 

I must go on a diet 
I know that I should try it
No more Pork Pies, Sausage Rolls or Steak and Chips
No more will I take on
A sandwich of bacon
For I wish to reclaim those snake like hips

I think I’ll make a pledge 
To eat only fruit and veg
I will cut out beer and wine and stuff like that
If I tell the truth
My cholesterol’s through the roof
Yet I’ve never been unhappy being fat

I was reared on bread and lard 
So I sometimes find it hard
To take on board the things my Doctor said
I tell you I’m not joking
I enjoy food, beer and smoking 
And as for my old Doctor, well he’s dead.

So should I reduce my food?
I’m not really in the mood
As I sit here watching Masters Chefs on telly
And when I’m no longer here
There’s no need to shed a tear
Just be happy that I went with a full belly.

Bugger the diet!!!!!!!
© Roy May  Create an image from this poem.

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