Best Quaff Poems


Premium Member A Spark Inside Me Flared

I saw her in the sky this morn
  ghostly pale and forlorn
She couldn't even wink at me
  display her craters or her seas

I turned away, then hurried off
  my over-sensitivity to quaff
When a spark inside me brightly flared
  ~ The moon's still mine to view up there

My Measure

Bring me not the humdrum,

Just bring good things to me.

Fine wine, and cheeses

And books of poetry.

Let me debate a philosopher,

Let him steel my mind.

Then, we could quaff good ale

And drink till we were blind.

Just for a little while,

Give me naught but pleasure.

Then when it's back to the grind,

I'll feel I've had my measure.
© Gary Smith  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Two Poets Meet Collaboration

What do you see when you see trees?
My eyes travel each trunk and branch.
With feathered leaves in blowing breeze
till the chipper comes with a cranch! 

	Your details shine with luminescence -
	I eschew detail for the essence.
	In trees, I just see nature's grace -  
'	Tis beautiful, like your face!
 
And then a breath of sweet surcease
as he offered a glance her way –
love and roses budding
 
	Roses die and love will end, so who'll cut the string whereon I suspend?
	When a poet puppet dies, it's a smorgasbord for the flies.
 
I heard that death was coming to you
from the silence right out of the blue.
From whence this sound had come I wondered?
A strange comment from out of the blue. 
I turned and saw the apparition.
Why does death come right out of the blue?
Then I saw upon its face a smile
so frightening right out of the blue!
Its jarring humor not surprising.
Its dark soul came from out of the blue.
 
	Ah, I think that I finally see -
	Your attention to features and finesse
	Sets apart your exquisite poetry,
	Such is your eloquent loveliness.

	I hope to aspire to the lofty summit,
	Choosing words to embellish and describe.
	No more, to bland language will I plummet -
	From a fountain of words I will imbibe.

	Intoxicated in language, enchanting, 
	Expressing every charming nuance,
	Exactly rhyming, evading slanting,
	Shall we wax in an enthralling séance?

	Now I have been enlightened, let us spin
	A verbal tapestry - can we begin?

We could just call the whole thing off,
as we each grab beers for a quaff.
	You say potato.
	I say tomato.
Is it really worth our scoff?

	Ah, beers, is an idea I can accept - 
	At drinking, not poetry, I'm more adept. 
	After all this rhyming, I've had enough,
	But I think now I'll need some stouter stuff!


Premium Member Two Poets Meet Collaboration

What do you see when you see trees?
My eyes travel each trunk and branch.
With feathered leaves in blowing breeze
till the chipper comes with a cranch! 

	Your details shine with luminescence -
	I eschew detail for the essence.
	In trees, I just see nature's grace -  
'	Tis beautiful, like your face!
 
And then a breath of sweet surcease
as he offered a glance her way –
love and roses budding
 
	Roses die and love will end, so who'll cut the string whereon I suspend?
	When a poet puppet dies, it's a smorgasbord for the flies.
 
I heard that death was coming to you
from the silence right out of the blue.
From whence this sound had come I wondered?
A strange comment from out of the blue. 
I turned and saw the apparition.
Why does death come right out of the blue?
Then I saw upon its face a smile
so frightening right out of the blue!
Its jarring humor not surprising.
Its dark soul came from out of the blue.
 
	Ah, I think that I finally see -
	Your attention to features and finesse
	Sets apart your exquisite poetry,
	Such is your eloquent loveliness.

	I hope to aspire to the lofty summit,
	Choosing words to embellish and describe.
	No more, to bland language will I plummet -
	From a fountain of words, I will imbibe.

	Intoxicated in language, enchanting, 
	Expressing every charming nuance,
	Exactly rhyming, evading slanting,
	Shall we wax in an enthralling séance?

	Now I have been enlightened, let us spin
	A verbal tapestry - can we begin?

We could just call the whole thing off,
as we each grab beers for a quaff.
	You say potato.
	I say tomato.
Is it really worth our scoff?

	Ah, beers, is an idea I can accept - 
	At drinking, not poetry, I'm more adept. 
	After all this rhyming, I've had enough,
	But I think now I'll need some stouter stuff!

For the Sunrise

It may be your desire
   to want a beer 
with the holiday season near
You want to laugh 
     and so you quaff
  A tall glass - best in 
the land
   It will leave you 
feeling grand
    and I'll lend you a helping hand
as you walk through the sand
     of time 
with or without rhyme
    Have a joyful time!

Grace

The autumn sky attunes itself to hearts,
a sour grey murky wash where lost eyes tire.
with insubstantial dust it affects so,
that vision blurs and minds retreat to when
those aged weary organs last supped hope;
and still they seek to quaff before it fades.

Mere dregs they hunger as the last joy fades
to quench beyond their volume broken hearts
and rehydrate that desiccated hope,
rejuvenate the goals before lives tire,
that minds may ponder not upon the “When?”
but concentrate on “What next?” and “How so?”

To take uncertain step, and take it so
as not to fear the fall if stair it fades,
would stir adrenalin so’s not to tire
the fragile confidence of tender hearts,
that they might respond quickly, those doves, when
presented opportunity to hope.

This then the grace of God, the wisp that’s hope,
which we in arrogance might dismiss so
upon our slightest whim and if and when:
an employee who on our command fades.
this grace exists beyond the grasp, the hearts:
phenomenon which will not doze nor tire.

See now how eyes do genuinely tire
as surcease emanates from new-found hope,
providing respite for those weary hearts:
hammock of restful sleep delivered so
the love embattled souls may rally when
their combined lumen some dark agent fades.

Thus through harsh winter flare as daylight fades
with fuel of ‘the multiverse’ entire,
the essence of which Lazarus lit when
his sisters had begged balm of Only Hope.
Such embers must be stoked to fierce blaze so
The Darkness may not touch creations’ hearts.

Faith should not tire when allocated hope.
Our God heeds not the ‘when’ of our say-so,
but stokes each heart with love that never fades.


Premium Member Cowboy Saturday Night Hoedown

The cows is lowin' in the old corral and all the evenin' chores is done.
Hank scraped the manure off'n his boots 'cause he's a fastidious son-of-a-gun.
He drew his pay, jumped in his pickup and headed fer Clyde's Saloon,
To quaff some brew, grab a gal er two and dance to the fiddler's tune!

There was a hoedown at Clyde's where cowpokes met ever' Saturday night.
There they danced, boozed and let off steam that usually ended in a fight!
There was a band with drums, banjo, fiddle, bass and a steel git-tar,
And the pianer player Mike McGurk (when they could pry him from the bar!)

A gal named Mousy Bush sang with a voice that quivered like Robin Hood's bow.
That's where Hank hung out Saturday nights to blow his hard-earned dough!
Hank was dancin' the Texas Two Step and havin' the time of his life,
When an incident occurred that occasioned another night of strife.

Some dude splattered a Coors on Hank's new Calvin Klein shirt and jeans.
Now, stuff happens and normally this wouldn't amount to a hill of beans,
But this got Hank's dander up and since he never held his hootch all that well,
He punched the guy, bloodied his schnoz and began a-raisin' hell.

A grand brawl ensued with ever'one tossin' punches, chairs and tables.
There was a heap of cussin' with patrons lablin' others with tawdry lables!
Hank arose Sunday mornin' with a poundin' headache and two black eyes,
But he'll be back at Clyde's Saturday next to enjoy a hoedown with the guys!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved

(Not for the contest)

Premium Member Tick and Tock

Tick tock, tick tock,
The cat climbed on the clock.
     A rat ran out rapidly in the rain.
     Sought shelter under a sturdy shrub.
The cheeky cat checked all crops,
The rat snuggled into its reservoir.

A duck chased the cat,
Then it dipped into the pond,
     Enjoyed a quiet quaff in the quaint rain,
     As the water sounded on its surface, 
And as it Ticked, it Tock,
And the duck dug deep happily.


Placed 1

Premium Member Bratwurst and Beer

ACH!  Don't tell me you've never been to an Oktoberfest!
Folks, that's food, drink and entertainment at its best!
Men in lederhosen, frauleins in dirndls, all so full of cheer,
Enjoyin' tasty bratwursts and steins of Hofbrau Beer!

Jamaicans enjoy Red Stripe Beer with red beans and rice.
They like their pristine beaches and they are very nice,
But for simple pleasure and taste buds that you'll endear,
There ain't nothin' like washin' down a bratwurst with a beer!

Friends in Italy enjoy the view of Vesuvius sippin' a Poretti,
Fortified with plates of fettuccine alfredo and spaghetti.
But I can't visualize anything just a whole lot sweeter,
Than a simple bratwurst washed down with suds by the liter!

Scots socialize with their clan at the neighborhood pub,
Drinkin' pints of Innis and Gunn, eatin' haggis for their grub.
French sip Trois Monts dinin' on delicious escargot.
Japanese slurp their noodle soup with a brew called Sapporo.

Mexicans gulp Salitos Beer to quench the tamale's spicy tang.
Folks in Indonesia quaff Bintang Bir with their nasi goreng.
Of assorted foreign beers and their fancy fare I've had my fill;
I'm content to sip a Coors and broil bratwurts on my grille!

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

Premium Member Clouds

Clouds, the clouds diffuse a sad and somewhat somber hue;
Wind, the wind bemoans her loss of reins and calm control;
Crows, the crows flee men of straw, sleeves slapping at the wind;

Grass, the grass defends with blades, impaling truant gusts;
Rain, the rain descends aslant from angry ashen skies;
Stones, the stones repulse the pearls, exploding tears of gloom;

Woods, the woods assuage the angst of misty brooding trees;
Leaves, the leaves desert their branches, dropping one by one;
Fields, the fields imbibe a quaff to quench an arid thirst;

Streams, the streams meander, hushed, to distant vapid shores;
Breeze, the breeze intones a tune, a mourning monody;
Sands, the sands, in chaos, dance across the dappled dunes;

Shades, the shades appear confused, alone in lurid haze;
Mice, the mice discern the dawn, their beady eyes ablaze;
Clouds, the clouds diffuse a sad and somewhat somber hue.

The Haiku Corral - Part 3

Haiku Licentioso 
('They who quaff this cup shall see god
and The Magdalen')

with the *powder
that goes in the tea
comes the instructions:
''dump into the brew
mix salaciously
drink licentiously
and feel like a libertine''

''caution's for the birds
toss the birds back into the leaves
grab a broom
aim for and dip on the dance floor,
docido,
and mix salaciously
drink licentiously
feel like a libertine''

''noon's for stealing shade
afternoons for sawing logs
nights for stealing even deeper
and dawn for burning rubber
out of jail mate hell (or heaven),
so mix salaciously
drink licentiously
and cuss on your knees
like a libertine''

''love's for the blind
hatred for the weak
and bravery for the mad,
mix salaciously
drink licentiously
and ask for rebates on living
like a libertine''

''file for Chapter 11 on your intellect
strip-tease for bees
perjure yourself to bears
read *********** in leaves of the tea
and yellow journalism in your pee,
mix salaciously
drink licentiously
and celebrate like a libertine''

''acknowledge god in the tax code
the 1-800 goddess in the phone book
chase your mother-in-law down the street
catch yourself tripping over your dreams
plagiarize your nightmares,
and mix salaciously
drink licentiously
and hiccup like a libertine -
- for missing the bus
is half the fun
unless it's a disease you catch
your dog lies down with fleas
arises with a bladder-full
while divorce doesn't quite pay the bills,
so mix salaciously
drink licentiously
and go the way of all flesh and blood
like a libertine Ph. D.''

* (hibiscus-flavored rose hip tea added to regular tea)

The World Is Run By Tyrants

The world is run by tyrants who don't really care
Like the Cameron's the Clinton's the Bush's and especially Tory Blair
These warmongers ruin lives and destroy communities 
And they all should spend life in prison doing toilet duties

People are coming together realising where it went wrong
United in solidarity is what'll make the people strong
We need to keep up the momentum and push for fairer times
And stop the evil Tories committing heinous crimes

Because under the current Tory rule it's caused a lot of pain
Theresa May and Hammond I look down on in distain
Giving tax breaks and subsidies to their Etonian chums
While offering the poor and vulnerable only loose change and crumbs

So why do we accept homelessness and foodbanks today
While the rich quaff shampers on luxury yacht's far away
Because under the current system it only benefits a few
So people need to suffer and that includes me and you

The world is run by tyrants who don't really care
Like the Cameron's the Clinton's the Bush's and especially Tory Blair
These warmongers ruin lives and destroy communities 
And they all should spend life in prison doing toilet duties

Fear

I never knew I could love anyone like I love you dear
I never thought I could think of the future so clear
Never believed that love would ever be essential
That my ordinary life could ever be made special

I never really ever considered myself a dreamer
Never believed anyone can fulfill my soul’s hunger
Never ever wanted to be tied to any one string
Didn’t know the wholeness that commitment can bring

But now as I ponder about the feelings that you bring
It’s like being given a quaff from life’s eternal spring
I need you so much! Oh darling can't you hear?
To lose you angel is now my life’s biggest fear

For ATP
© John Boak  Create an image from this poem.

Auf Wiedersehn

Auf Wiedersehn

   Well here at last it's party time,in shorts and dirndl dress.
   Excitedly we travelled to the fest, a night of pleasure lay ahead.
   We knew from past experience, don't quaff, just savour  beers.
   Imbibing Munichs drinks too fast, could mar the atmosphere.
   Laughter brings bonhomie, as old and new friends speak.
   Let's raise our beer steins in a toast.for now the show begins.
   People waving, singing loudly, while rocking to the beat.
   And all around the milling crowds, now dancing in the streets.
   Revelry with devilry, as young boys whistle, girls in short skirts coyly blushing.
   Talking heads surround our table, animated arms translating.
   Yesterday a bunch of strangers, today as  friends sharing together.
   Listen to the sound of lilting voices, melodies from different tongues.
   Inviting us each night to join them, mixing beers and singing songs.
   Kindred spirits everyone, together dancing on the benches.
   Enjoying each and every moment, with an ice cold stein of beer.
   Trying tasty tendeloin of pork, delicious with sweet mustard crust.
   Ham wrapped-figs and hazelnuts, with drinks of cool  spring bottled water.
   Each time the band strikes up-Ein Prosit, all and sundry stands to toast.
   Rebel rousing, crowds carousing, dancers dirndl skirts are swirling.
   Entertaining energetic, party poopers paralytic.
   Stomping feet and clapping hands, embarrassing each waitress serving beer.
   No one even seems to care,they carry on with gay abandon.
   Overacting then distracting, when outside and breathe fresh air.
   Time to eat potato pancakes,refreshed by water keeping sober.
   Once more, let's party, here we go, prancing to an oom-pah band.
   Musicians wearing lederhosen, people stomping feet and slapping thighs.
   Oktober Fest in frenzied celebration, cavorting couples holding hands. 
   Running wildly round each table, urging all to take the floor.
   Rejuvenated, rock and rollers, overcoming mixed emotions.
   Once more before auf wiedersehn, let's dance the night away, and
   We will party like there's no tomorrow.

   11 / 5 / 2016.

Premium Member As Days Grow Short

As days grow short and sunlight fades
Nature’s hues shift from bright to grey
in midst of plague, darkness pervades 
the birds fly south but we must stay.

Together we will make it through
though days grow short and sunlight fades
our faith stands strong, our hearts are true
and so shall break midwinter’s shade.

In blackest hour when doubt invades
despair creeps in and all seems dire 
as nights grow long and sunlight fades
strike flint to light the solstice fire.

All gather round our newfound light
quaff winter ale, sing old ballades
till dawn banishes longest night
as sun grows strong and darkness fades.	



(Quatern with traveling traveling line)

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