Best Tequila Poems
The
sun today rose like
a slice of lemon
that grips the
salty edge of
an ice cold
margarita
badly
i
n
n
e
e
d
of an
extra shot of
tequila for warmth
Lit up like a Christmas tree
Is papa after his festive drink
He’s a funny one
Can’t hold his tongue
Dances and he sings
Words that make no sense
Long winded when he’s bent
He gives a Ted Talk
About how to stand tall
And falls on his rear end
Despite his huge blue pride
He knew too drunk to drive
In his sloppy stupor
He calls an Uber
Goes home to angry wife
In a couple of hours
another town we'll be stoppin.
At a big ole country bar
where we can get the people rockin.
At least until two
I know that place will be hoppin.
So I've got tequila in my boot, an a lime in my pocket.
Once those country boys
start drinking shots, their ain't no stoppin.
An those nice ole country girls
get out an dance, we'll be hoppin.
I know at least until two
That this big ole bar will be rocking.
So I've got tequila in my boot, an a lime in my pocket.
It's been a couple of hours
an no one wants the music stoppin.
At this big ole country bar
everybody wants to keep a rockin.
But it's almost now two
an everybody is still a hoppin.
Going to have to get more tequila for my boot, an another lime for my pocket.
Soon the bar will be closin
cause after this song we'll be stoppin.
We had ourselves a good time
as we kept the people rockin.
With all the tequila that I drank
I don't know if I, can continue hoppin.
I guess that's what is due, when ya putting tequila your boot, an a lime in your pocket.
Danny Boy:9-27-13 ©
Contest Name: Another Song Lyric Contest
By Anne Currin
dawn's amber chaser
cherry swirls as daybreak stirs…
thirsty eyes peer east
where did the money go?
favorite cigars,a coffee with cream.
a nice bed.
THE WORM IN THE TEQUILA BOTTLE
Oh, little white one wiggling there
You keep us bottled safe to stare
How do we look to you from there---
Glass-housed creatures must beware.
Swimming in a pickled sea
Life could be a merry lark
Lonely though you're bound to be
with half your time spent in the dark.
Quickly now you’ll disappear
through the teeth of greedy dreams
what rumbling gut will greet your ear--
Life is never as it seems.
***shhhhh....
You should be ashamed of yourself, rocking my world turning me
into a young schoolgirl.
-giggling and smiling with a secret on my mind, remembering
the funny things you did the last time;
-you called and had me talking in my sleep. Building memories
to hold dear, and forever keep.
Here I am at my age, growing hair with silver streaks, got me
feeling primed and at my peak.
Could not concentrate on my work to get it done, just thinking
bout when we're together having so much fun.
Boy... you're gonna get it the next time I see you, it will be
nights to remember when we get through.
Bring a lil tequila papi. I want to stay high to soar the skies,
like it's our time to fly!
To the sweet words coming from my lips, from the fine wine
we’ll drink sip to sip.
Can't wait to be holding and squeezing you so tight__
and pillow talking sweet nothings all throughout the night.
We have to get together soon, I don't know how. But like Luther
Vandross said..."I want you here and now"!
Eat a big meal daddy, cuz from Freaky-Friday till Hot-Fudge Sunday
we ain't coming up til the dawn of Monday.
Drop all the worries; throw em out to the curb;
hang a sign on the door..."Do Not Disturb".
[Dedicated to all our men out there somewhere on the road...
fighting for us, working for us or building a life for us]
Of my 36 halves: The latter, spent
accruing 2 subtracted former halves,
is 9, if equal parts divided mint
2 quarters passed 1 – done (tequila math).
Those under 18 have no place in this.
I was 19 when I first learned to drink.
Keystone my freshman year; soph’moric Schlitz.
2 Jager bombed thirsts forced a senior’s shrink.
That 25 uncorked a loveless wine
meant 29 bed wedded Chuckie Cheese.
30 went sober with vows on the line,
so - it's been over the last 6 of these.
What all it equates to? 1 sweet tasty thought:
Deep swallows of Brandy (candied apricot).
It was years before,
That I had been turned,
To the sweet taste,
Of kisses that burned.
But tonight was different,
As I stood upon her stoop,
I felt trapped,
Like a pigeon in a coop.
Her glances were brandy,
Her touch was gin,
As she leaned in closer,
Tequila kisses became my sin.
too much trabajo tomorrow
too much tequila today
a spec of mota in la morning
will make me gusta okay
mas tequila
One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor
Tis the season for upchucking from every pore
From singing off key
To removing dungarees
Picking up chickies with attributes galore
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shipwrecked; to be carried by the waves unto a distant shore?!
Washed upon an uncharted island both, tattered and torn....
Rags which cling unto sunburnt flesh; eyes swollen
Half shut above burning lips blistered in parched
Concealing a tongue that cannot speak; did not!?
Upon these knees, struggling to my feet that I may gaze
Across the endless ocean with its, glorious horizon....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
....“Its * Tequila Sunrise” ~
Chartreuse waves of ocean,
Grains of ivory shore,
Drown another memory.
Citrus smothered whore.
Lemon-lime and bittersweet,
Icy hot and burn,
Swallowed pain, lies and truth,
So easy not to learn.
Salty veil of innocence,
Tattered, torn, a demons kiss,
Virgin, verdant, in twice the
way,
Intoxicated bliss.
Lick the rim, tongue in cheek,
Prickly compromise.
One, two, just one more,
Heart, head, thighs.
Sober thoughts become wasted
words,
Frozen drops of time,
Call someone who maybe
cares?
Why, waste the dime.
Agave drops of amber ombré,
Puddle on the floor.
Dignity and vigilance,
chaux des fondus au noir.
Elixir of the broken hearted,
Neon glow of gams, parted,
Lamentation, the nectar,
Of the harlot, and his bride.
The Holy Bible is a Journal.
On the desk, and it's definitely
not made of Mahogany,
it's lightly-stained Oak.
The blanket is Navaho. It's All Sacred.
Those Impeccable Tribes of the Desert -via the Fountaini
- will make more, but the Object can't be Programmed.
It's one of the gadflies or juggernauts ,
some say Gordian Knots,
of Simulation "Theory."
It's REALLY HARD (some say - ahem - difficult) to simulate a Grandpa.
I find it to be quite sexy
The rhythm to which your hair swings
When you softly run your fingers through
It is but only a reverie to yearn
To see many happy, shiny faces
With a striking quality such as yours
And to drink of your lips
Within the wake of the moon