Best Heineken Poems
Sand in sheets
scuffing skin and reminding
last nights attire reaks like bonfire
a hundred days like this
a sea of endless laughs rolling
like filmreels infinitely looped fantastic
Their cars rolled in, shiney and pretentious
personalized plates waxed clever wit
crowding this small town to gloat in sand-side castles
Yacht club yucks shelling bucks like bayou crayfish
condescending, fun loving, brash Chicago touristas
Bless their daughters who filed in sassy
chin up, chest out trustafarians
scents of coconut lotion and clinique perfume
wafting through our warm lake breeze reality
Giddy and loving our rough edged style
intending to slum with townies, like we minded...
smiles glowing in those bonfire nights
mischievious and promising...
Every action thereafter defied catholic school education
...benificiaries of repression rebellion...like we minded!
Lake Michigan was paces from my bedroom window
These sparrow serenaded mornings..
...morphing into something amphibious
when the alewives were raked, we lay lazy
Bodies melted into sand~~ sated with sun
splashing back to cool off in sandbars
coolers anchored in those cool waters
taking long pulls off a perspiring Heineken
Beach days concluded with seagulls off to hunt
Squaking as they ascended into pink and orangecicle skies
The water shimmered like a million illuminated snakes
...side winding-mirrored the suns final say
Couples pulled up to Harbor landing to see the show
heads melted into one mass in windshields all around
lovers seeing nature's beauty more vibrant as lovers do...
The sunset brings a new purple backdrop
squaks are replaced with crickets chirps
Bright-then-fading green...BRIGHT-then fading green
Children gathered fireflies in jars laughing
Ice cream stained faces aglow with captive glee
Then to black and star filled, became the sky
we returned to cooler sand pushing between our toes
scurrying through dunegrass seeking driftwood and brush
creating a structure to take to flame...a science for proud boyscouts
There we gathered with newfound gals from cross lake 'burbs
sunrise would end our night tonight...awaking to lifeguards scolding.
Inspired by John Heck's Summer Contest!!
Children exceed the doves that we were given.
They are graces sent forth from God in heaven.
Despite one's capacity to innovate and teach,
Dawn facts to tutor, given in eloquent speech.
Wisdom gained in life radiates alike the sun.
But recall the spirit of self, literacy, and fun.
Relish the moon calmly; don't let hiccups swoon.
Never let your spirit wane alike a morning moon.
Keeping one's mind and emotions in harmony
We feed you with flame straight from the armory.
Have ethics and treat all with care and fairness.
God's trust will bear you a deeper awareness.
While twirling life, don't ignore fresh food or vitamin.
Adopt care of yourself, and never drive after Heineken.
You should dress how you feel most comfortable.
Don't strain as another; clones are unremarkable.
Study enough for it, but not so much as to panic.
A fresh crew offers hope for the modern Titanic.
Never let others sway you; rather, follow the breeze.
Blend kindness and brawn alike waving flowers of trees.
Such as clay, be calm, and don't let emotion bury you.
Be selfless in the aid of those who follow you through.
We are affluent only when our feelings are healthy.
Be humble in glory, gentle in grief, glad, and stealthy.
Set aside some quiet time to pray every night.
Life will strike you with grief, so tackle it and fight.
Written: February 09, 2023
The 12 Things You'd Teach Your Child Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Matt Caliri
It crept upon me,
From the age of eight,
Who knew the depths of hell,
That that first taste would lead?
The singing and jokes,
The dancing and shouts,
It all seemed grand to me.
It ate deep inside,
My nervous system,
Trapped by age twenty one,
The gates of hell opened,
For a ten year slog,
Jobs ended, friends left,
Caught in the jaws of death.
Guinness, Jack Daniels,
A Stella Artois,
Ten pints of Heineken,
Two bottles of strong gin,
Brandy, Vodka, wine,
Amazing amounts,
And then came the extras,
Speed, coke, weed, crack, meth
All leveled by booze,
I couldn't leave the house,
Without inebriation,
It soon gets lonely,
When you're a soaked souse,
Even dealers hate drunks.
Deep in the gutter,
Too bruised and battered,
The world keeps spiraling,
Choose terror or madness,
An endless nightmare’
Of fear and denial,
That severs brain from heart
To go into hell,
Is to find yourself,
Ironic: loss is gain,
Who knew that addiction,
Was a path to truth,
You stand face to face,
With the cruel facts of death.
I can’t believe I’m out,
that colossal maze,
Of grave embarrassment,
You must lose everything,
Not least dignity,
Alone, naked, raw,
Stood on a precipice.
Hard to make it out,
Make it out alive,
It’s hard to make it out,
Your face in the mirror,
Stripped bare and empty
It feels like the end,
But a crossroads appears.
Try until you die,
Fight against this curse,
It’s inherited,
And ingrained in culture,
Anyone can fall,
And it’s amazing,
You may seem to fall far,
But it’s never too late.
I know of a man
The finest man from the Southern land
That man is my dad
He is just a small town Southern man
As strong as a bull and as old as a mountain,
He wouldn’t harm a flea and is as wise as can be
He’s as smart as a whip,
You can’t teach an old dog new tricks
He rather be working at home or at the family farm,
Instead he works on washers and dryers every day
He drinks Heineken from some German town
Cause he truly is just a small town Southern man
My heart is telling me, go, go, go
Mind is saying no, no, no…
You don’t know if she loves him
How she feels when she’s with him
Would you risk breaking your heart….
Another Heineken the barman asked
My heart is saying it's time to show
This could be the dream girl you want to know…
Don’t bother with the mind…
Everything will be just fine…just walk across and talk to her
So I turned around and walked across...
Said hello, my name is Ross...
Are you the anchor from Cable news...
She smiled and said you must be confused
And as we talked I knew it right away... love favors the wise and brave
Then I heard a voice talking from behind
My heart closed up and there was mind
Thank God they were old High School friends
We fell in love before the night had end
I felt my mind say, oh my, how lucky me
Taking a chance on what heart believed...
In my house
intoxicating liquid
lies unlocked
in a closet.
Subject to the anti-drug
campaign since birth,
I never thought
to try it.
Why? Fear
of addiction,
or of drunkenness?
Both are reversible,
and I am young.
The type
evolves with dad:
First, red Burgundy wine
then a Christmas Heineken
a coworker’s Bahamas rum
a local Bombay Sapphire
Moutai from my uncle.
(Drink intensity
seems to increase
with his anger
Though he's never
lost.)
Another week, another bottle
he consumes
with accelerating ferocity.
Either he is losing discipline
or planned this all along
making more
of time remaining.
Surely I’ve inherited
generously lenient genes
and could drink his path,
But if I start
I risk regretting seventeen
years of abstinence.
St. Patty’s Day
This past St. Patty’s Day where I work
Everyone took part in drinking some green Irish Cheer
What we had was some green Heineken Beer
As you can see by my avatar picture
I downloaded a four leaf clover and a green glass of
Green Irish Cheer.
Written: 5/30/15
Theresa Marie
One night as we pulled into the complex
Over the bumpy Colonial Arms exit,
Taj was sitting out on the brick stoop
With a single light blinking over his serious face
His mouth encased in a smoky cloud
And a single flame at the end of his cigarette
Tapping into an empty
Heineken bottle
I opened the door, and my slender leg
Lengthened on slick black heel
As I made my way to him
Knowing that the night should be over
Knowing that I had no plans to end it
A couple of blinks and words later,
I’m pressed to the bathroom wall
And I’m losing it all
Clothes, my red lipstick, my sanity
“Screw it” already sealed my destiny
And though some would say
“You’re there for the ride”
I’d so no, I’m just trying to survive
I’m scrambling for a light in dark places
The night’s not over, but I’d prefer to be
An alcoholic fool to find it
And before long, Taj knows what I’ve done
And he calls and mocks my pride
curses my god, insults my father
And I try to hold it together
My red chest in fistfuls of my shaking hands
My vulnerable bitten lips
Unable to sob through the shock
Of my stupid heart, and the way
I acted on all my misgivings
This isn’t living
But it’s a fact I’ll forget when I go
And screw it up again
With a friend, with a stranger, with a man
with his fingers crossed behind his back
I have to laugh
When this morning, a year from then
I find myself collapsed and chapped
Sobbing into an already tear stained floor
A fool has nothing to lose but his life
And tonight, there’s not much between me
And the knife
That would take me there
And as blood drips to the end of my golden hair
Maybe I will find home
And maybe my dream will let me murder the man
Who stole it from me
Screw it.
The smell of Heineken is in the air
where is it at... tell me where!
I love the taste for some reason
I love the way it goes down so smooth
I love the way hardly no one I know feels the same
I guess its an acquired taste, I hand out no blame
5:30 AM on a Monday
It doesn’t get much worse than this
Up all night partying for what I don’t know
Everyone is gone now I am alone with my beer
Inebriated and toxic I am a danger zone.
Dogs are sleeping and wife as gone long ago.
Just me and this computer and some lonely souls.
I have taken Ambien and lorizapam and nothing puts me down
It will probably take a sun to rise
To wipe the tears from my eyes.
I can hear The Stones singing
“Goodbye Ruby Tuesday”
From another room
But it’s only Monday.
I light another smoke and watch the bellowed rings
Cancer spelled with an O.
Take another sip of Heineken waiting for the buzz to start
Oh Jesus is this what a life if for? Help me find the top.
Once I reach the pinnacle then maybe I can stop.
You blaze so brightly, I’m afraid
It’s been dark here for so long
If I stray too far I’ll lose the light
If I stand too close I’ll be consumed
but I need the fire, it brings me to life.
Your worry vibrates through your smile
and I wonder why I’m here again,
we linger in our favorite place a while
drinking cheap Chianti and Heineken
I’ll lose the light if I stray too far.
We talk about our days and nights
(Does she taste me when you kiss her?)
I sip my wine and pick my fights
As our worlds begin to blur
I’m too close and beginning to burn.
All the fun’s been had, I’ll never understand
what you still want from me,
Yet I wait shamefully for your command
filled equally with desire and misery
You blaze so brightly I’m helplessly drawn.
I’ve read that love is not enough
but reality and Serif font can never measure up.
You tell me that I think too much
my heart demands that my mind shut up.
because I need your fire to bring me to life.
A tiny spark that smolders still,
quiet glow of a former crackling glory
its embers flicker with every wind
that can gently flame or roughly snuff.
I’m sorry to leave like this but I’ve just realized
it’s been dark here long enough.
Heineken
crystal head vodka
MD 20/20
im pretty tipsy
I'm pretty drunk
I'm happy
I'm sad
I'm happy
Watchin Xmas movies.
This is the worst poem ever.
but then again I'm pretty drunk
A shot of jack would do me just fine,
with an ice cold Heineken, sublime
and for all of my little senoritas,
an endless fountain of margaritas.
It's gonna get hot tonight.
Yeah it's gonna get hot tonight.
A full moon is shining bright,
and I can tell by the size of the stars in your eyes,
it's gonna get hot tonight.
Put your hair up just right
and wear your dress way too tight.
Let's hit The Pub and paint the town
and while we're at it let's mess around
a better time at The Pub will never be found
cause it's gonna get hot tonight.
Her homeless young lady with three little poochies
Sitting aside the light's post, charging her cell phone
All alone as day's twilight fades greeting another night
In this city half a million lives; watching buses unloading
Their final passengers; while tramps hurry to catch Friday's
Movie amid her park drinking a six pack of Heineken in cans
With his Narco to kill the pain ? Not that I am into downers but
This poverty and her silver spoon sings about their glory as grace ?
Spoon fed these tiny few; spawned a litter from tearfuls crimson crew.
As I took my initial sip of beer
in that dusky bar on that rainy
night in Amsterdam,
I forgot about Van Gogh
and the canals and tulips,
and was right back in Smithtown.
The first beer I ever drank
was with my friend Will
when we were thirteen.
Our mutual buddy worked
as a dishwasher at Angelo’s
and somehow managed to
stash a six pack of Heinekens
next to the dumpster
when he took the trash out back
during a Saturday night shift.
Will and I hid behind
one of the long Cadillacs in the
restaurant’s black parking lot
and snatched the prize
once the coast was clear.
Instead of drinking them that night,
we buried the green bottles
in Will’s mother’s flowerbed
and decided to meet after school
on Monday to pop them open.
I rode my ten-speed over
to Will’s two days later and
then like two thirsty pirates,
we exhumed our treasure.
We wiped off the dirt
and each drank two green bottles
under the pale blue afternoon
sky in the backyard.
Will’s mother wasn’t due home
for a few hours and we sat with
our tepid beers on the back stoop.
I held my bottle by its neck as if
I was posing for a magazine ad
and sipped from it like I’d seen
uncles do
at family barbecues.
Before I left to go home for supper,
we ate Oreos to mask our breaths.
My head was a little muddy
as I pedaled home and I prayed
that my parents wouldn’t know
what I had done.
Whenever I see the Heineken
red star logo on a tap handle
or the iconic green neon
burning in a bar window,
the memory of my baptism
to beer with Will after school
is unearthed and
I can picture the black soil,
and the emerald glass,
and taste the Oreo cookies
and encroaching adulthood.