Long Boozer Poems
Long Boozer Poems. Below are the most popular long Boozer by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Boozer poems by poem length and keyword.
Hark! That rustling of the leaves
makes me wobbly at the knees,
or did I dream of Thatcher’s ghost
chasing "wets" from post to post?
·
When Tony Blair bashed up Hussein,
no Robin Hood at home bought gain.
Who then yet may save the day?
Who remains to show the way?
Bill Dozer is this man, I say!
Trouser? Loser? Boozer? Hey!
Who the heck's Bill Dozer?
Like Superman he flits about.
cosh in hand, with mighty clout.
He is a man of iron fist,
the last remaining socialist.
He hears each worker's woeful cry:
like Joe Hill he'll never die.
When Marx shall rise from Highgate's tomb,
capitalists will meet their doom.
Horn-rimmed his specs, his suit dull-brown,
he swoops like an eagle down.
He'll give each grabbing boss the boot
and share with us the ill-gotten loot.
Bill Dozer is this man, I say!
Trouzer? Loser? Boozer? Hey!
Who the heck's Bill Dozer?
But if still the point you missed:
He's the last remaining socialist.
I have had my bourbon, and I have to admit
I feel feathery fine, refreshed, amazingly fit!
I am ready to tell you a story that will knock you out
Come sit closer, and I will share what I am about….
The pompous man was gob smacked this was the same guy
He almost walked past, not realizing the where or why.
I just needed a drink to get my wits back on track,
The boozer said, so grateful you had my back.
I was down in my cups, when a bad guy came by.
He hit me over the head, and made my brain sort of cry.
I was then rolled around in the alley for all of my cash.
They tore up my shutters and ran up my sash.
The listener could not believe this man’s transformation.
He was amazed at his new look, cause for a celebration.
It was his favorite cousin, Ezekiel, who had been missing for a week.
All cleaned up, he looked fantastic, nothing like last night’s freak.
I am glad you got the money, he told his kin so fine.
Let’s get you home, and tell your tale, cousin of mine.
You think the wife will buy it? Zeke asked, knowing Dorothy Lee.
Why wouldn’t she? Cousin asked him. I believed it totally.
She's got nerve,
Calling him a boozer
Sittin' next to him
She feels like such a loser
When He's been drinkin'
She'll give that boy a wack
He likes his Jim
But he don't know jack
I heard they got married
Bout a year ago
Figured to elope
I think the story goes
She thought, "What a Man"
As they wrestled in the sack
Yes The boy likes his Jim
But he don't know Jack
Chorus
Now if you're gonna drink
And mess around with girls
Don't pick a Bossy one
or she'll upset your world
And if you plan to keep on drinkin'
And remember watch your back
Cause you Can trust your Jim
But you don't know Jack
Instrumental
The Honeymoon's now over
And she hates it when he drinks
But he is kinda slow
He don't care what she thinks
But when he reaches for a bottle
She's ready to attack
'Cause he likes his Jim
But he don't know Jack
Chorus
Now if you're gonna drink
And mess around with girls
Don't pick a Bossy one
or she'll upset your world
And if you plan to keep on drinkin'
And remember watch your back
Cause you Can trust your Jim
But you don't know Jack
(Mimic the song..."If I Only Had A Brain" by the Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz)
I could be so independent
So lavish and resplendent
Just a player in the game
I would wield mighty powers
And be mesmerized for hours
If I only knew my name
Oh nothing's getting clearer
This stranger in the mirror
Every day it's just the same
I don't think I'm Richard Nixon
It's my brain that needs a fixin'
If I only knew my name
I must have washed up on the shore
I'm not in Kansas anymore
Tell me who am I to blame
Am I a winner or a loser
Am I sober or a boozer
If I only knew my name
Who's my father and my mother
Have I sister and a brother
To remember is the aim
Was I born just an orphan
Or was I metamorphin'
If I only knew my name
Were there starlets I was meetin'
Or did I take a beatin'
A sad history or fame
Did I grow up in the gutter
Only eating peanut butter
If I only knew my name
It would be an inspiration
If I got an invitation
By the Queen or Royal Dame
All my senses would be tinglin'
When they crowned me King of England
If I only knew my name
Would I do it all for spite
Is it wrong or is it right
Let me tell you it's a shame
Do I love 'em or I hate 'em
Is that my one ultimatum
If I only knew my name
I would wave my country's banners
And practice proper manners
Not to do so is so lame
I would call no gal a heifer
Or a guy a mother effer
If I only knew my name
Am I a true brainiac
Or a total maniac
This confusion I must tame
I may need some absolution
In a mental institution
If I only knew my name
From the summer through the fall
I kept trying to recall
But the memory never came
Am I coming am I going
There's just no way of knowing
If I only knew my name
When I stand I'm dizzy still
There has got to be a pill
Guess I may go down in flame
This must be some strange disease
Won't somebody help me please
If I only knew my name
Well I feel so out of place
I want to join the human race
So now I'm here to stake my claim
And I'm hopin' and believin'
That one day this fog is leavin'
If I only knew my name
4/30/17
Underneath what they consider lunar
Don't care if your name is super
So much for your future
And all of the rumors
There is nowhere you can go to outmaneuver
When I turn into Krueger
Take you out before the sound of the rooster
Whether or not on the computer
Or a scooter
Oh well that just makes one fewer
I don't care if you can't appreciate my humor
I come from the sewer
Not much of a snoozer
But a heavy duty boozer
Warning
Night and morning
The rage accumulating and forming
Before, during and after storming
In and out of areas with bugs that continue swarming
Feeling like Rick and not so much Morty
The temperature below, above or at the forties
In and out of different territories
Near and far from quarries
Coming in like Vorhees
It doesn't matter if you heard all the stories
Because nothing can prepare you for me
Considering that we all fall in different categories
And carry our own inventories
Mine can make it gory
Yours are empty normally
For you it just may end up horribly
Drawn out or ending shortly
I don't care about the glory
Or so called purgatory
A simple and friendly reminder
Don't have on your blinders
Think wiser
At elevations lower and higher
On foot or tires
Looking like Myers
In and out of areas devastated by fires
Above and below telephone wires
With a pair of pliers
Ready to eliminate any liars
Leaving behind no traces or fibers
Tried to go after me, but instead
He was caught, and pissed the bed
As it was off with his head
When I was Pinhead
Could be worse or better
More or lesser
Something that would do you some good to remember
Before I lose control of my temper
And become Lecter
Against whomever
Thinks their clever
Whenever
During any weather
The surrounding suddenly became redder
Not concerned about opinions
A one man army on a mission
They wanted to give me a million
Endless medical prescriptions
And to persuade me with religion
But I wouldn't give in or listen
Because I am a villain
By: Dalton Ogletree
A resilient addict with corona
Believes he is immune as a stoner
Puts Mary Jane on the mask
And Jimmy Beam in his flask
Fortifies his deluded persona
Quite soon though his supply is depleted
In withdrawal he feels so mistreated
Smokes sanitizer
And fertilizer
Wrapped in loo roll not to be defeated
Neurotransmitters cause havoc and pain
When the lockdown forces him to refrain
He chokes on puke bile
Transforms for a while
Self-harms until his bloody wrists are slain
Meanwhile a former spirits abuser
Thinks back to awful years as a boozer
No more hangover
Craving is over
She's past being a paranoid looser
Seclusion focusses on true virtues
In quarantined times of imposed curfews
She draws a frontier
Clean sober and clear
Freedom of sound mind with nothing to loose
She combines pure logic and emotions
Does no longer rely on fake potions
She does not request
Others to detest
But found her soul and abstinent notion
09th April 2020
Angelus wasn't anyone special. Some might say that he was a loser.
He did more than his share of chasing women,
and locals claim he was very much the boozer,
but despite all of his vulnerabilities,
there stood a champion the purest of heart.
The good was always within him. It just never seemed to get a good start.
Angelus was abused by his father.
Conflicts arose between the two quite often.
His father saw his son as a family disgrace,
and would not hesitate to use a whip to beat him.
"Why does my father hate me so?
Fathers should love you no matter what.
How can I give my father what he desires,
when it's simply something that I just haven't got?"
Thoughts like this would haunt Angelus daily,
leaving him in a very confused place to be.
"I love him! I hate him!" Angelus would cry. "I hate him for not loving me."
One evening he was drowning his sorrows.
Suddenly this vision of loveliness appeared.
The vixen Darla then said running her fingers through his hair,
"Such beautiful eyes should not be so filled with tears.
I too never knew the love of a father and lived my life as a whore,
searching for the love of my father in the arms of strangers,
who cared less after they had used me once more.
I can only imagine the pain that you suffer.
I never knew my father and perhaps it's just as well,
because seeing you here now with your father, a father who doesn't love you,
is so obviously a more painful and tormenting hell.
You have two choices before you Angelus my sweet.
End your life now and free yourself from this torment
or spend forever with me and together we'll seek,
a new life of eternal enjoyment.
If death isn't your choice then the answer is clear.
Say the words and I'll deliver you from all of this.
Close your eyes, say the words, you have nothing to fear.
Let me give you my eternal kiss."
He gazed upon her and thought to himself,
"This one truly must be my salvation."
"I choose you," he said as he closed his eyes,
and so began Angelus's damnation.
She sunk her fangs deep in his throat and fed on his blood.
All of his good, all of his soul, all disappear.
Angelus was reborn the most evil of evil.
He was the vampire good and evil would fear.
you perm and prime you shun;
You polish up your own stone;
You talk trash and jive;
You shine of uncertainty;
While yet you continually promise me;
Heller Shelter relish tones;
Cut my landline telephone;
Imprison me where you say I belong;
give me plenty of accreditation;
Concrete placement prevarication;
Who is my judge, where is my jury;
Placement on "HOLD" it's my mister-minor, huh!!
What is this a joke,
And just what is a JUKE JOint?
Fancy dancer, Chicago headliner;
Broken deflated football from Lincoln/Omaha Nebraska;
What is thing call "the CORN HUSKERS"
By chance the populace can remember
Bob Gibson, Robert Boozer who...
Maybe Gabriel Union who...
And just where is this place
What is this space that home to about 400 million
From the hood I understood, from Tech High I held my pride;
In the ghetto was that fellow teachers said He ain't gonna amount to nothing
1970's Black power you perm and prime you shun;
In the ghetto inner city polish up your stone;
Speaking Swahili you talkN trash and jive;
Politically correct master target you shine of uncertainty;
While yet you continually unpromising me;
Heller Shelter relish tones, still haten Deacon Jones?;
Cut my landline telephone on Facebook unfriend me;
Imprison me with closed eyes and mediocrity
Where do you say I belong, not here son...
git on, get gone;
give me plenty of accreditation;
Concrete placement prevarication;
Who is my judge, where is my jury;
Placement on "HOLD" it's my mister-minor, huh!!
What is this a joke,
Your life's been revoked,
Even Lucifer wants you gone
Too much heat for him, ha ha!!
Chicago's the best...
Nebraska (what) is next...
So stop playing over and over again
Curtis Mayfield and pull on the WINANS
yet I still feel even in trouble times then the best decade was the 1970's
A BROTHERLY LOVE VERSE TO MY BROTHER Freddie Robinson Jr. a brotherly dedication
8/16/19
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
There is a stolen railroad car named "Schmow".
The big question of the day is: "Where did it go?"
The Penciltucky Railroad would really like to know,
so they sent one of their detectives named Moe.
Inside the car is a spinster named Roberta
With her is her younger sister named Nora.
The two men with them are Shemp and Larry.
Nora hopes Roberta and Shemp will marry.
Shemp is someone with a lot of money.
Nora would like Shemp to make Roberta his honey.
However, Larry thinks Shemp is a loser.
That is because Shemp is too much of a boozer.
Shemp is really in love with Carrie.
This Carrie happens to be a giant canary.
The trouble is, Carrie is imaginary.
Shemp wants to give Carrie a kiss and a hug
whenever he takes a sip from his jug.
Along comes Roberta's previous lover named Moe.
Do you wonder where this situation will go?
All you have to do is watch the video.
Based on the 1952 Columbia Pictures short "Cuckoo on a Choo Choo" starring the Three Stooges.
Cocktail parties are an entrenched American custom, I suppose.
A forum to spew inane babble and where the booze freely flows!
I've suffered through more of them than I care to recall,
And I try to avoid them like the flu - they drive me up the wall!
Alas, an invite arrives and a firm decree from my spouse ensues!
"We're going!" I didn't even have a chance to voice my views!
This one to celebrate some guy's retirement or something or other.
I wish they'd include me out - I have little time for such pother!
I retreat to a corner of the room with my drink to gaze about and pout,
But bless my soul, invariably a gregarious boor always seeks me out,
Regaling me nose-to-nose with tedious trifle I really don't want to hear.
I dodge and parry with him but he insists on bending my weary ear!
I strive to be tolerant when such occasions beckon.
And I'm reasonably adept at observing social niceities, I reckon,
But that uncouth, sotted boozer bent on a gargantuan toot,
Makes me a bit fractious since he also spilled hooch on my suit!
I've heard more about his kids and job than I want to know,
The latest obscene jokes and how his investments are sure to grow!
Thankfully, his spouse appears and notes his besotted condition,
And graciously rescues me from his boring, wearisome rendition!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved