Best Guzzle Poems


No Sounds of Any Kind Please, Even Silence

The Sounds of Silence
By: Simon & Garfunkle

Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
‘Neath the halo of a streetlamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
No one dare
Disturb the sound of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said “The words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the sounds of silence

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ciERzSFRwzk

---------------------------------------------------------

With a Little Salt and Lime

Hello Jose my old friend
I've come to guzzle you again
The party started before afternoon
I started sipping on you far too soon
My last SENTENCE I fear was slightly slurred
(Vision blurred)
Forgot to EEEET----my breakfast

They look with pity upon me
'Can't hold his liquor', they agree
Now I'm weaving when I try to walk
Senseless babble when I try to talk
Then I feel the NEEEED to flee to an old-oak-tree
(To heave and pee)
but cannot LOOOZE---- my breakfast

Did not like his tone at all
Got myself into a brawl
I quickly put him in his rightful place
Broke his knuckles with my pretty face
Shoulda’ had my OOOATS but didn't so alas!
(I kiss the grass)
and now my ASSSS----is breakfast

In the morning I awake
moaning with a bad headache
Bright-sun glaring through the window pane
I whine and whimper in my wretched pain
In the next room a TV-is-blaring
and screams in my pounding-ear
(No thank you dear)
Believe I'll PASS on----breakfast

*Moral of the story: Never drink before noon OR on an empty stomach...

Premium Member In Twenty Years I Might Be a Tree

I Might Be a Tree

In twenty years I pray I won't be gone
placed six feet beneath a manicured lawn
I'd much prefer to give old death the slip
To guzzle life instead of just a sip

Mind and spirit together playing song
I'll rest a bit but not for very long
You see, there is so much I wish to do
Yes many years can feel like just a few

The company of those I truly love
will lift my spirits like a flying dove
The flowers that I plant will be in bloom
Beauty will surround me in every room

The ground might open up and swallow me
Don't worry I'll reach up and be a tree!



For Brenda's "You 20 Years from now" contest.

Premium Member I Remember When

I suppose I'm revealin' my age as I compose this little ditty,
But as I compare costs today with yesteryear I exclaim, "What a pity!"
Gas cost 30 cents per gallon and hamburger was 19 cents a pound,
And a buck would atone my sins when collection plates were passed around!

I remember when a haircut cost two-bits at Harry's Barbershop,
And a hotdog cost 15 cents and ya paid a nickel fer a Nehi pop.
A dollar twenty-five bought a lunch of meatloaf and mashed pertaters,
That included a slab of cherry pie and a side of salad with termaters!

It cost a quarter to see 'Gone With The Wind' at the movin' pitcher show,
And fer a tub of popcorn and a coke ya needn't spend a ton of dough!
Double scoop ice cream cones cost a dime and a nickel fer a candy bar.
I remember that a loaf of bread cost 12 cents and a nickel bought a fine cigar!

Ya could buy a suit of clothes and a pair of shoes fer twenty bucks er so,
And a dime would buy ya a couple of donuts to dunk in yer cuppa joe.
A postage stamp cost 3 cents and fer a nickel ya could guzzle a glass of beer,
And a college education cost about 300 smackaroos per academic year!

Fer about 4 bucks ya could treat yer date to a show and banana split,
And later steal a smooch which would cost ya not one whit!
Nowadays fer such necessaries ya must work yer fingers to the bone,
And to keep apace with inflation, find a friendly banker to float a loan!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved


Premium Member 'twas the Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, I’d forgotten the sprouts
So I sent out a plea to the local boy scouts
I’d remembered the crackers, the turkey and ham
but my guests would expect sprouts, so I was in a jam

The scout leader admitted that I was in a pickle
and he said my family were all somewhat fickle
I said Uncle Bert just adored eating brussels
then he’d fart for days with his lax sphincter muscles 

The scout leader had a plan, it is so well thought out
He'd call each scout’s mother to donate just one sprout
Every scout hurries round with one sprout in their hands
soon I have plenty of veg to sate my guest’s demands

On Christmas Day the relations ring my door bell
Pat barges into my kitchen; she makes my life hell
At one time she cooked meals for guys in the Navy
So she has to check if there are lumps in MY gravy

On the stroke of one o’clock I dish up the food
Uncle Bert belches loudly, that man is so rude
They devour all the turkey and round stuffing balls
By the end of the main course I’m climbing the walls!

They don’t offer to help, so I fetch the dessert
Uncle Bert drips brandy butter all over his shirt
Then they guzzle the cheese and finish the wine
Bert then farts profusely, he’s a disgusting swine

Then we sit round the TV to listen to the Queen
Bert’s eaten too much, his face has turned green 
Pat gives me a present, of a hand knitted jumper
It’s three sizes too big, I just want to thump her

They’ve descended on me these last fifteen years
I ask if they’ll reciprocate, my words fall on deaf ears
They never say thank you, they drink all my booze
Next year they can whistle, I’m booking a cruise!

Premium Member Garden Pests

'Tis another glorious spring and I planted my garden with the expectation,
That I shall reap a bountiful harvest for my table with minimum frustration!

I planted the usual stuff - carrots, radishes, onions and termaters,
Watermelons, peas, corn, beans and a few hills of russet pertaters.

With the Good Lord's help, lots of sun and occasional showers of rain,
The seeds sprang to life along with some curses that are my infernal bane!

I've discovered that I have a healthy crop of weeds that need attention,
And a host of other intrusive visitors that I'll proceed to mention!

I was dismayed to discover legions of caterpillars and mealy bugs,
Pruning my plants along with hordes of ugly snails and slimy slugs!

They're even being attacked from below by gophers and moles,
And from above by crows making diving sorties from the clothesline poles!

'Coons, 'possums and wabbits at raiding my garden are very deft,
And armies of well-disciplined ants are gleaning what is left!

I even caught some nasty little kids filching a watermelon last night!
I chased them but those little dudes took off with the speed of light!

With a storm of wind and hail this morn I saw all my labor disappear!
Come next spring I think I shall opt to sit on the patio and guzzle beer!

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

Cup of Love

.

        I guzzle
      she quaffs
         I swill
      she swigs

           We
drink from the cup
        of love


Wine Tastes Better Aged

Flourished and nourished,
hair locks resembling branches,
I gaze as it dances —
when blowing, he looks glowing.

Twenty years had passed,
but still, I last.
I may have ripened,
but I'm still the same berry, same fruit,
slightly fragmented, a little indented,
not demented.

You got a sample of me when I was at my prime,
taught a few tricks — oh, to replay our time.
Let me discover what you have learned;
still, I yearn —
like the eternal flame, I burn.

Do not read me as if I come with the label “handle with care,”
I am more than able.
Only sixty-five, still alive!
Round-bodied, the taste of sweet and sour —
come and devour during lunch hour.

Do not guzzle — sip slow,
take the time to enjoy this aged wine as we intertwine.
Oh, how you've practiced —
glad to discover upon this mattress.

When I Dance

I seize time when funky drummer songs break
into my body robbing feeling of nerves making me fly
off floors with hips bouncing and shoes sweeping soot on concrete
I leave my history on any ground wherever I scuff my hands
and greet earth beneath me made of cement and sand
roughening calluses in

my upper palm and never do I feel more alive in
doing anything other than breaking
dancing on the floor that my fingers sand
with blood thrashing through my veins till I push and fly
legs flailing toward the moon; only my hands
feel this field of concrete

within the hour, ridges of concrete
rub against my knuckles as I guzzle in
air gasping for breaths that hit my hands
feeling this warmth pat me does nothing more than break
any possibility that I might be dreaming, flying
somewhere or dead drifting with sand
dirt smears its calligraphy in an ink of sand

when my shoes scrape concrete
markings on the floor inscribe stories and time flies
I see scratches my palms and shoes make in
a canvas of floors where I dance till the break
of dawn meditating with music, the bandage of my hands

I read life through my hands
brush rubble or throw sand
dancing off feelings of being lonely breaking
nostalgia of home because I can find that in concrete
the ground teaches me of pain on my skin or inside
my mind as I wander into a song flying
and falling over pebbles that gash my flesh blood flying
all directions and while wiping blood from my hands

I feel my age seeping the years I keep anxiety in
on a path of exhaustion counting thuds of my heart with sandpaper
hands I forge on concrete
I will slide-spin-tap the floor in harmony breaking

my life into stories of me dancing in all worlds I touch, showing the world my broken
rhythm in handling pain with hands pressed on floors people walk on in concrete
cities where I fly into freedom, puffing out, dying breaths, and taking all, breaths of life, in

What We Eat

The vegans eat their vegetables,
The carnivores their meat.
The gluten-haters stay away
From foods containing wheat.

The carbohydrate shunners
Won’t eat pasta, cake or bread
But can eat a pound of bacon,
Not the healthiest, instead.

Organic fruits and veggies,
Plus organic milk and cheese
Are believed to lengthen life, although
There are no guarantees.

There are those who don’t eat dairy;
There are those who don’t eat pork.
There are some who just use chopsticks
And reject the knife and fork.

There are decaf coffee drinkers;
Others guzzle their caffeine.
Everybody has a preference
When it comes to their cuisine.

So I’ll eat the foods I relish
And you eat the foods you choose
Since we both have the option, when offered
One another's repast, to refuse.

Premium Member The Pirate's Life For Me

With a hearty laugh, and scallywag's glee
I've acquired their riches, and conquered the sea!
Like a timid lass... they will turn, and flee
showing their backsides, to the likes of me!
Lily livered, they're fearin' my brand!
Shiverin' they be,  till they're walking on land!

Arrgg!! shouts first mate, calling out to the crew, 
"Tally-ho!" fills me ears, as the chance now ensues 
Setting sail in a race, up high on the waves
I spy with my glass,  wily cowards to chase
'Tis we, mighty foes, that will ransom the sea!
Mighty bold is me, with me old pirate's creed!

Alas! there he is, what a fool is he!!
To rush into battle with the likes of me!!
Sailin' the waves on the blimey sea
Stung by a sword, the scallywag flees!

How swift he sails, along in the blue..
Yo ho ho! Thar' he be!
He'll be countin' his days, and soon on his knees
A sorry tale, will allot him, his sword just a broom
Me' cross=bone skull is flying wild
and waves a mighty doom!!


I am Blackbeard the Pirate....remember my name!
You will fill up your froth of my flowing fame
You will guzzle ye' grog, or a bit of ye' rum
Yea' ... call me the devil, with a bit of a scum!

Girdled with face of a hundred scars
Fear of me' wrath, either by sun or by stars
It gladdens the heart of a scoundrel like me
You'll best not forget ....tis' a Blackbeard ye' fear!!

Premium Member Mind Yer Manners

My long-sufferin' Mother tried to teach me the rudiments of social graces,
So as not to make a fool of myself at fancy affairs and such other places.
But even so, at the school prom I splattered sauce on the tux I had rented!
So much fer impressing my date who thought me somewhat demented!

I can still remember Mom's admonitions as if it were yesterday:
"Say please, thank you and pardon me to those you meet along the way."
"The napkin ain't used fer blowin' yer nose or as if washin' yer face."
"Keep it short and to the point should you be asked to say the grace."

"Keep yer elbows off the table, sit up straight with one hand on yer lap."
"Don't hog conversation and if you've nothin' sane to say, clam yer trap."
"Learn to use the silverware properly so as not to be disgraced."
"Tell the hostess what a fine meal it was (tho' not necessarily to yer taste)."

"Don't start eatin' 'til the hostess begins and don't guzzle too much wine."
"Always help the lady on yer right to be seated before you begin to dine."
"Open yer car door and other doors fer ladies and they'll appreciate that."
"Rise when ladies or elders enter the room and remember to tip yer hat."

"Offer yer arm to sweet old ladies and assist them to cross the street."
"Tell moms their babes are cute (even if not) but be very discreet."
Mom's sage advice was well taken but today it seems that it was all for naught,
Since many folks ain't got no couth or respect nor behave as they ought!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved

Hunger

With the Nepotism in my planet, essentially in my land, life compels
And factual morals are forgotten. Ancestors way of living are forbidden
By the rules we live in today.
What’s happening in our society?
Flash is made to capture, to imprison,
Not to poison and abolish every tale we ever had.

I sense discomfort when I glimpse defiance of young in open, forgive me but i
Feel pain when I see the future walking in distress; giving their lives in return for a good life.  
Give them credit, but our lives were much easier before.

Simplicity is no supplementary.
But not everyone who’s involved wants to,
Pleasure is the case, dissatisfaction is the face, eish did I say it’s the pace?

Wait a minute
Facing my demons with abstemious eyes, doesn't add up, I need a fluid to go through 
The night, where’s my pint to nip the tank of my thanks.
I’m jaded, guzzle, gulp facilitate
 Slurp!
It kills me to be unable to maintain my being,
Without sentiment awkwardness,
But little voices say…  
‘Just be intoxicated, without any guiltiness’. 

My hero dies in vein, my mother stress in pain, and my friends suffer in shame,
I didn't do it, but the hunger for more led me to desire more.
Everyone’s scrip end is thrilled, but in one way or another, 
there is a season for everything.
Life goes on, I’m a young woman. I’m different, I’m a lion and 
I’m in control.

I may not be the most courageous, boldest, and smartest,
But god gave me a voice and a pen,
I refuse to be the statistic, the common, and the everyday indict,
I refuse to be them, they, us, and we, I choose to be “I” alone. 
I am a woman, a lion,
This is not the time to point fingers, 
This is the time to raise my left arm and say I am a woman,
 stray the shy of my spry.

Heroes always live, but
Hero die in this one, because this is war.

Premium Member Cosmic Cocktail

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.
© Joe Inka  Create an image from this poem.

Aim and Power

we all suffer from fatigue
we all suffer from pain
we all suffer mood changes
we all suffer personality changes
we all positive and negative
we all withdraw from 
we all obsessive about 
we all abused and abusers
we all harm ourselves and others
we all seek physical and psychological pleasure 
we all take prescription medicines
we all know that there is not a straight border between illness
we all know that there's not a straight border in Cardiology
we all know that there's not a straight border in Urology 
we all know that there's not a straight border in Mental illnesses 
we all know that there's not a straight border in Medicine(s) (s)
we all have a power deeply strong in
we all blot on
we all receive into the mind and retain 
we all take in something 
we all take in 
even metaphorically 
we all assimilate
consume
soak up
sop up
belt down
guzzle
we all kill like cigarettes with our concluding actions of defeat 
we write quickly afraid of,
life is like Sports where we all want to score the most
in our search for the New we want to differentiate dissimilate 
We all want to be very positive in our features and attributes
we all have our dues
we all want the best for the other
we all linked
we all care about 
we all have our causes
we all have the right to a better tomorrow 
we all wish the best to our friends, 
we all want to help the disadvantaged
But are we listening to our power that unmistakable guide us along the path of life, Our love, truth and abundance,
Are we following it?
Are we close to others?
Are we respecting the natural environment?
or we all do the above as climbers, 
kidnapping the flame opting-show off (commercial also)
replacing Power for an aim leaving the traits in oneself-locked

Saturday Night's Alright For Sleeping

It's gettin' late and
                                             we couldn't wait.
Me and Ma      just downed         12 cold beers.
It's seven o'clock 
                                 and we both are crocked.
And my drug dealer’s fi-nal-ly here.

My ole Dad’s a stinkin’ like
                    a skunk who’s been binge drinkin’
as my poor Mom       slumps           in her chair.
My sister looks hot 
                                   after smoking some pot.
I’m hoping that she’ll                 surely share-a!

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! – 

C'mon and give me some medications!
I've had it with your saccharine!
Whoa! Saturday Night's alright for sleeping.
Getta little shut-eye in.
Gonna be as sleepy as Van Winkles brain.
Gonna set my clock – yeah, right!
Cause Saturday Night’s tonight, goodnight!
Saturday Night’s tonight – Goodnight…Goodniiiiiiight!

Woooooooh!Oooooooh!Ooooh!Ooooh!Ooooh!

Well I’m whacked fairly tight 
                                                  and feeling light.
Taking one more Percocet               will do me right.
I may slug some Robitussin 
                                         and suck-in some weed.
Popping three more oxycontins will be
                                                          all I’ll need!

A couple-of-a drugs that are really keen
Are Sominex and Nytol 
                                                  with doxylamine.
I'm a juvenile junkie                 who hasn’t any class
Watching Motrin PM tablets 
                                                      fizz in a glass.

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! – 

C'mon and give me some medications!
I'm tired of potassium!
Saturday Night's alright for sleeping.
Getta couple Zzzz-Zzzz’s in.
Gonna guzzle Ny-Quil ‘til I feel no pain.
Pullin’ down my shades real tight.
Cause Saturday Night’s tonight, goodnight!
Saturday Night’s tonight – Goodnight…Goodniiiiiiight!

Oooooooh!Oooooooh!Ooooh!Ooooh!Ooooh!

Saturday…Saturday!
Saturday…Saturday…Saturday!
Saturday…Saturday…Saturday!
Saturday Night, goodnight!

Saturday…Saturday!
Saturday…Saturday…Saturday!
Saturday…Saturday…Saturday!
Saturday Night, goodnight!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!


For: Mr. John Heck
Dear John contest - Elton John (music)/Bernie Taupin (lyrics)
Sung to the tune of: Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting

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