Best Pub Poems
Inside pub steins stout magic spoke
‘neath genie wisps of bangle smoke
Brown cone cigars, deep chubby pipes
Aromatic spills to breach the night.
Music calls to muted songs
Rough knuckles echo Bodhrán drums.
Flute, melodeon, bouzouki*, mandolin
Penny whistles, uilleann pipes, one feisty violin.
Pied piper rhythms, pied piper beats
Bold Celtic persuasions to move proud legs and feet.
To Daver and friendship, thank you!
* Bouzouki...A stringed instrument that could stand up to the volume and intensity of fiddles, flutes, accordions, and pipes.
*uilleann pipes...Irish bagpipes...melodeon. an Irish accordian
My friends who Ive missed ive been gone awhile working on a book
and while working on that book i had a idea i know thats scary huh?
Well I wanted to start a group or site that just wasnt out there for poets a get togather
almost bar or pub enviroment.
a place free of the clowns who come on these sites only to hassle fellow poets.
And I have created just that a invite only site or as i call it the poetry pub.
Its got chat rooms message boards music you can upload photos
start your own groups.
i started it i run it so all i need is people to be part of it.
its free to join and its invite only please check it out if ya wanna be part of a one of a kind
site then send me a soup mail all i need is for yato send me your email and i'll send ya a
invite its that easy Fellow souper gary la buda is already a memeber and if you have any
doubts just ask him about the site
please join it will be something you truely wont regret
thank you my friends drop me a line and come join the poetry pub.
grab a pint and join some good friends
once again no catches no bs please contact me
thank you my friends
The glass was half empty until he smashed it on the room divider
Tequila Sunrise on the wall
Shattered the pieces lay on the ground when he walked on his shards
Barefoot floored surrender
A bitter taste of guilt as he wretched his way to the bathroom sink
Unplugged mosaic of pain
The lipstick kiss lingered on the mirror but her toothbrush was gone
Message from a bottle
Staggered in defeat he stumbled on slurred words of another promise
Twisted spluttered echoes
As he rinsed his tongue with mouthwash more lies mourned his loss
Prolonged rapid suicide
It was the kindest thing she would ever do for the wasted drunkard
Tough unrequited love
17th February 2020
sad shadows dizzy
cigarette smoke drift lazy
pub sounds, lights, hazy
Weak audible creaks from a faded pub sign
Preludes a visual crash, combed by critical eyes
Though the structure was sound
The worn brackets were faint
Flaking words curled and dropped
With the tired peeling paint.
Flaming steaks and ice cold drinks
you thought good food had become extinct
until you ate here and gave us a nod and a wink.
Appetizers galore with soft stringy cheese sticks, artichoke hearts deep fried
with a taste of parmesan cheese and a dip to please.
bacon wrapped shrimp you might want to frame, seared sea scallops that
make you want to gallop, stuff mushrooms that'll make you croon, escargot
and baked claims as you eat them you'll definitely leave a stain
Ice burg lettuce or romaine with fresh dressing all homemade.
Lobster bisque soup with a deep rich taste if you don't like
seafood try Tomato bisque instead, French onion soup either a bowel
or cup just don't be a glut.
Your auntre is about to start your just warming up
hot garlic bread with a wonderful spread, Chris's secret recipe if he
told you how he made it you'd be dead.
Succulent steaks porterhouse, ribeye, serlion, T-bone and of course filet
add garlic or lemon butter to dip, 'hooray!'
Chicken flew by giving you legs and wings deep fried
want a little less oil try the fresh grilled chicken
fit for a royal.
Hamburger, cheeseburger just choose your cheese and of course
add bacon please. Want an egg on top sunny side up
when you squeeze the bun it will definitely erupt.
The beef is so fresh the cows stopped mooing when
it hit the grill with no sign of stress.
Vegetable melody or a little broccoli please.
The potato why so many things I can do
baked, French fried, homefried or even mashed
some round or shaped like a torpedo.
Baked fish Talapia, Flounder or even Sea Bass
'Oh' so fresh. We have an aquarium in the back,
just teasing we use a pole and bait at our near by lake.
End the evening as you sit back with a luscious sweet dessert
but please don't drool bibs are provided if needed
or even a paper sack on your way out.
Just remember as my Daddy always said,
'You all come back now you hear, friends are like family
and we hold you all dear!'
Coming Soon: The new "Fire and Ice Grill and Pub"
T Reams
SUNG TO THE TUNE OF "LONDON BRIDGE IS FALLING DOWN"
Wobbly-boot ter rubbity-dub
nary me ol' hide did scrub
showin' crack
'n grinder plaque
th' pirate's shorin'
Hail th' buccaneerin' frog
tip th' keg 'n swill me grog
a blunt o' pot,
a wench's bot
fer all-night whorin'
Th' briny whore, th' scurvy wench
wit' bloomers off 'n stinky stench
fer ha'penny's worth
did warm me berth
'n rolled off snorin'
Hail th' buccaneerin' frog
tip th' keg 'n swill me grog
a blunt o' pot,
a wench's bot
fer all-night whorin'
Up th' hips 'n spread th' knees
tig ol' bitties pump 'n squeeze
roll th' rump
hump-hump-hump-hump
a-rippin' 'n roarin'
Hail th' buccaneerin' frog
tip th' keg 'n swill me grog
a blunt o' pot,
a wench's bot
fer all-night whorin'
There was a dame from Westminster,
Who lived her life as a spinster.
She was old and gray,
Yelled at cats all day,
And that is why no one missed her.
Hey, Ho! A pub’ng we go… And I’ll bring along, those Zany Trolls.
What’s better, than to drink, with friends, my Dear… as merrily, off we go!
We’ll leave the frats, in the dust, and bring The Bun, merrily, along.
He had a great run, at Easter time, now he can let, the good times roll.
Who knows best, than a nest of Trolls, how to have, a really great time!
A Biker Bar should fill our sails, as we go, courting the best… of it all.
Hey, Ho! A pub’ng we go… And I’ll bring along, those Zany Trolls.
What’s better, than to drink, with friends, my Dear…as merrily, off we go!
The beers great, the girls’ first rate, I’ll ride a full-blown Harley Hog.
To ride them down, across the town, my hair, flowing behind, in the air.
But first we’ll make a new drinking song, betting on, who’s best, by far.
Biker Dudes, Trolls enthused, raise their mugs in unity, again, once more!
Hey, Ho! A pub’ng we go… And I’ll bring along, those Zany Trolls.
What’s better, than to drink, with friends, my Dear… as merrily, off we go!
It’s all fun, as with pool cues in hand, we try to, learn to play Eight Ball.
We’ll dance on the floor, and some on the bar, as rowdier we become.
But we’re the best, with glass in fist, as we sing our new… drinking song.
So don’t be glum! Here, come along, to laughter amid, such joyful fun.
Hey, Ho! A pub’ng we go… And I’ll bring along, those Zany Trolls.
What’s better, than to drink, with friends, my Dear… as merrily, off we go!
We’ll have fun, then move along, as our song wins, and the tab is yours.
You can join, as comes, the next bar, and we’ll, start all over, once more!
It’s party time, until dawn, for Trolls can hold, great quantities of rum.
As drinking games come, we win every time, as the losers pay the bill.
Hey, Ho! A pub’ng we go… And I’ll bring along, those, Zany Trolls.
What’s better, than to drink, with friends, my Dear…as merrily, off we go!
(A drinking song for the pure fun it: sung like a pirate song clinking mugs.)
Shawn walked in the local pub
and sat down by McGee
Shawn spoke softly in his ear
But McGee did not agree
He shook his head and waved his drink
As his voice was getting loud
When McGee insulted Shawn
It silenced the whole crowd
McGee slurred out one insult
followed by another
while knocking back another pint, said
"I Slept with your dear mother"
The crowd wide eyed and wondering
That sure would make Shawn mad
But Shawn just took him by the arm, said
" You're drunk, let's go home Dad "
~Be All You Can Be~
(Pat's Pub Bell)
See
All
You
Can
Be
Now
And
Work hard and
Have some fun
Cause time never waits for one
Be all you can be and much more
Love, enjoy, dance, be happy, dream high
And because life can be short, never wait
Climb every mountain, and don't look back
Just proceed, love, have faith, hope, never stop
Smile, always do what is right. Believe in you!
Because, really you can do anything with God's
(Help)
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2010
February.11.2016
~Author's Notes:
"Pat's Pub Bell" is a poetry style created by Patricia Farnsworth- Simpson.
There is a pub in the Midlands
Which goes by a fishy name.
Be careful what you say in there.
Or you won't be let in again.
It won't be swearing that'll get you barred
Or the starting of a fight
But suggestions to improve the beer.
Or compliments when it's right.
So when next in Leicester
Try a friendly pub instead
The place many recommend
Is the good old Kings Head.
~Aim High~
( The Pub Bell)
See
The
Sky
Now
Aim
And
Fly.
There's so much
You can achieve
Just set your mind and focus
Don't let anything stand in your way
Because God has a divine plan for you
Look at the sky when in doubt, don't stop
For the sky is the limit and you can do it
You can do anything that you dream about
Just aim very high and accomplish anything
You desire, don't be afraid, just fly and then
(Soar)
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2010
December.13.2015
~Author's Notes:
The "Pub Bell" is a poetry style created by Patricia Ann Farnsworth - Simpson.
In an Irish Pub, on St. Patricks Day,
I was drinking a traditional green beer.
In a lively conversation, I heard a man say,
that Irish folklore contained nothing to fear.
He stated that Leprechauns did not exist,
then got up, without giving his name.
As he reached the door, he did insist,
"but they're there just the same."
When the day dwindles pale...with my tall mug of ale
I'm a weepy ole' fool , it is quite plain to see
I'll shed many a tear ore' the wee smallest thing
I am known to spill oceans, with a tall chug-a-lug
There'll be tubs splashing tears, all over your head!
For,.......... I love my old mates and I'm lovin' my brew
I have a dilemma, it's the bluest of blues
but I can't decide which I'm holdin' more dear
a fine league of shipmates or my lagers of beer
I moon over moonlight shining over the sill
While I drink with my matey, who is over the hill
O', ......he'll tell me a story of his granny who's ill
And my eyes will start wellin' and a river will spill!
For,.......... I love my old mates and I'm lovin' my brew
I have a dilemma, it's the bluest of blues
but I can't decide which I'm holdin' more dear
a fine league of shipmates or my lagers of beer
There is lint in my eye over sharing goodbyes
I'll lament just a bit over missing Ma's pies
When a goat has been bitten by a snake that is long
I will leak like a bucket ..for a world that's gone wrong
If I must kick the bucket, so what if I do?
And if there's a heaven and the devil's not due
You'll know for sure I have a smile upon my face
from seeing my shipmates and from drinkin' my brew!
For,.......... I love my old mates and I'm lovin' my brew
I have a dilemma, it's the bluest of blues
but I can't decide which I'm holdin' more dear
a fine league of shipmates or my lagers of beer !!
_______________________________________________
For Cyndi's "Raise the Roof Pub Song" Contest