Best Cocktail Poems
(ALLITERATION)
Cows milked: mitigated mooing in the meadows then
Weaving on the warp, some workaholic women
Harvest of hapless halibuts on hooks
Bookish book-worms buried in books
A palomino and a pony patter on the paving
Hucksters and hawkers hawking every housing.
Ravers out on the razzle raising a raucous razz-ma-tazz
Beavers busy building beaver-dams but about it quite blasé.
Doves cooing in divine chorus
Frogs frisking out of focus
Horoscopes are hocus pocus.
Tidal waves of tsunami treacherously tread
Sea-anemones scattered upon the sea-bed.
Geraniums genuflecting in jungle-like gardens
Hunters wary of wandering wild-life wardens.
All this when I ventured about videotaping
Nature's much nicer even with no landscaping
These are direly different scenes from different parts of the globe
Perhaps like a space probe's kaleidoscopic poetic probe
( this poem has every letter of the alphabet except x)
Sheer boredom has me at this torpid end
Another rerun; please give me a break
The short list of scripts to which they pretend
I simply just can’t find one flying fake
Perhaps I’ll jump up on this tabletop
Do my best impression of Bill Shakespeare
It may resuscitate this boring flop
Nah, not now, my blushing bride is still here.
It doesn’t tire you out, this rehashed chatter?
To blab straight past glazed eyes, what could it bring?
Please wake me if you say something that matters
Until then, I’ll just twirl my wedding ring
It’s manna from heaven, my pager screams!
My wife winks, it’s time to go home and dream
7/8/16
© Thomas W. Quigley
New year's eve-
Regrets and hopes dance
Together.
We drift aimlessly
Upon a delicate mode of dust
A choice, not ours to make
Existing because we must
Absorbing what must be known
Experience is just what we feel
Careening across the universe
The blind hand of fate on the wheel
Or perhaps we're afloat in a cosmic concoction
A galaxy an abyss in a blender
There's a giant out there who's just like me
On the brink of a black hole bender.
A starry malt of Milky Way
A giant who drinks alone
I wish he'd guzzle to dull his pain
So I won't need a drink for my own.
Cocktail parties are an entrenched American custom, I suppose.
A forum to spew inane babble and where the booze freely flows!
I've suffered through more of them than I care to recall,
And I try to avoid them like the flu - they drive me up the wall!
Alas, an invite arrives and a firm decree from my spouse ensues!
"We're going!" I didn't even have a chance to voice my views!
This one to celebrate some guy's retirement or something or other.
I wish they'd include me out - I have little time for such pother!
I retreat to a corner of the room with my drink to gaze about and pout,
But bless my soul, invariably a gregarious boor always seeks me out,
Regaling me nose-to-nose with tedious trifle I really don't want to hear.
I dodge and parry with him but he insists on bending my weary ear!
I strive to be tolerant when such occasions beckon.
And I'm reasonably adept at observing social niceities, I reckon,
But that uncouth, sotted boozer bent on a gargantuan toot,
Makes me a bit fractious since he also spilled hooch on my suit!
I've heard more about his kids and job than I want to know,
The latest obscene jokes and how his investments are sure to grow!
Thankfully, his spouse appears and notes his besotted condition,
And graciously rescues me from his boring, wearisome rendition!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Winter's early evening breeze
feels and smells the same now,
as when sixteen,
except less promising
because more consoling,
contenting rather than regenerating contentious breath
of future hopes and dreams,
knowing we conspire somehow,
Earth and I,
because I feel richer to love this way,
than to breathe evening's winter still, alone.
I am less sure this was not my last daylight
in this operatic, yet ridiculously distracted,
lifetime landscape of sensexstory memory.
When I was sixteen,
my understory was more of a musical-comedy landscape
that would remain forever Peter Pan young, virginal,
well...hopefully not that.
Such confidence of seeing yet another
and another, apparently endless,
pink dawn,
turning yellow,
introducing blue hemisphere,
framed by green Earth's polycultural grasses
and monocultural asses,
which, at sixteen,
I found more amusing
than patience perdures into sixtyfour.
Winter's now later evening silence
remembering sixteen and sixtyfour
together
over vodka-laced pomegranate.
Written on January 26, 2020
By Gail DeBole
Drink up daredevils!
It’s not a joke.
The human toe in your drink
Is not just taking a soak.
It’s challenged many drinkers
And many have exclaimed,
“Ewwww, What’s going on?
And who has been maimed?”
But there are the hearty
Who take up the call
To be close to the toe
Soaked in some alcohol.
Yes, the toe is plunked in
If the bar patron says, “Sure!”
To the challenge of swigging
A toe-drink that allures.
But one of the patrons
Who couldn’t live without
Made a home brewsky
After his wife heard a shout.
Before he put on his bandage
His wife could not look
At the painful outcome
Of the action he took.
Now he is satisfied drinking
And doesn’t mind his nine toes.
He has daily Sourtoe cocktails
And now everyone knows!
That he’s not a toe-totaller.
He has a daily drink
And must have his cocktail
While he takes a deep think.
And if there is an error
Of swallowing the toe by mistake
He plans to live comfortably
With toes numbering eight.
Disclaimer: This poem in no way condones the actions of this fictional character.
Note: For the facts that inspired this poem, go to https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/sourtoe-cocktail. This is based on truth with a few gulps of poetic license.
In the purple haze of the bar room
you muse lustful moves
like the true artist you are
you stumble but find yourself
in the midst of shipwrecks
swaying to the trash band
of suburban artifacts
the dance floor groans
like a wooden sailboat
in a hurricane
pot smoke belly aches
too much acid
messes with your head
your sailor escorts you
like a tugboat down
the wonky lane
where in the backseat
of his Cadillac
you swallow the salty
cocktail of regrets
dawn breaks and
you'll do it all again tonight.
Zombie
python worship
animated trance like cocktail
ethereal, supernatural
Zombie
Soup Creek Toasts
Marmite cocktails are delicious I've heard
They are the hippest cocktails being served
So to raise a toast
Tell Jenna the host
Mayor Tom's sure to be shaken and stirred.
6th September 2022
Apricot nectar, I licked from her lips,
suckled the dew like honey
from melon ripe breast
and in time did savor
the heady heavenly flavor
of passion's fruit in all the rest
and night birds
beyond the window
...sang a new song.
"I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it..." E.E. Cummings
It's another night... I open the curtains
my mistress is hidden in moonlit meadows.
vastness of space inked in her fingerprints
flows in fantasy, filling a familiar fragrance.
I am no longer alone, a sea of passion tides
smear the stillness of a sedated sandy shore,
with the moon blushing in lustful lovelight
It's a cocktail of chemicals, cordless control.
a Ferris Wheel spinning forever in frolic
latitude of love lost in longitude of life.
hope and reality swirl in dizzy dreams
searching Spring secrets in September skies.
A butterfly had once asked it's wildflower
Darling dear, Will you please forget me?
It's twenty years in tapestry of time...
You have taken me with you, there's no me.
I want to drink you naked
the same way I would a complex
whisky.
seduce your Wheat
out of a glencairn glass/
nose your acrobatic aroma/
leave my base/
thrill your grains.
you are a
provocative contradiction.
I want to drink you naked
you are my measured
recipe.
THE COCKTAIL PARTY
Have some bills
need to work
after hours with
lots of jerks
got to party
got to smile
got to waste my time awhile
take a glass
kiss smile kiss
don’t remember
who is this
take a glass
take another
oh you’re iforgothims brother!
Yes I saw you at a show
Oh I saw you at the Met
Danny’s mother’s got good blow
Sammy’s sister bought a 'Vette
Have some wine
Have another
Where’s my ride
There’s his brother
Take me home
Get me there
Do it fast
Don’t know
How long I’m going to last
Take me home
Get me there,
'fraid I pull
Some bimbo’s hair
Safe at home
I’m alright
Kept my job
Another night