Long Boozy Poems
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It was the last order rush
All full of fun and chat.
As the door swung wide
All turned to look at what.
He wore his hat pulled low
He wore his dark hair long
And his spurs jingle jangled
Like the rhythm to a song.
His leather chaps dragged
And scraped along the floor
And you could cut the tension
As he stood there in the door.
Someone started laughing,
Then another one or two,
Great guffaws and giggles
You know the way you do.
He glared at us with slitted eyes
One hand hovered as if to draw
And as the laughter increased
Glared at us all once more.
The last Gunfighter?
Survivor of the few?
But rather out of place
In a Saturday chippy queue
He walked out defiantly.
Such an amazing sight,
Ok I suppose in Tombstone,
But on a Barnsley boozy night?
It was the last order rush
All full of fun and chat.
As the door swung wide
All turned to look at what.
He wore his hat pulled low
He wore his dark hair long
And his spurs jingle jangled
Like the rhythm to a song.
His leather chaps dragged
And scraped along the floor
And you could cut the tension
As he stood there in the door.
Someone started laughing,
Then another one or two,
Great guffaws and giggles
You know the way you do.
He glared at us with slitted eyes
One hand hovered as if to draw
And as the laughter increased
Glared at us all once more.
The last Gunfighter?
Survivor of the few?
But rather out of place
In a Saturday chippy queue
He walked out defiantly.
Such an amazing sight,
Ok I suppose in Tombstone,
But on a Barnsley boozy night?
"Drunk as a skunk"
Flimsy after whimsy
Flunk and debunk
Or mastered getting "plastered"
"Tipsy as a gypsy"
Sunk like a monk
Miss nights out "on the p*ss"
We shan't blush...can't hush
Us as we gush about the rush
Bliss to kiss the alcoHOLE abyss
Have a crush on the plush
Flush flights of a proper "lush"
Grinned while you sinned
Smile..getting in a right mess
Room spinned ... plans binned
Betting the style's "blotto" lotto
Pinned motto bless the "legless"
Jolly golly gosh "sloshed"
What beats "3 sheets to the wind"
Need a slash..have to crash
After being out on the lash
"Smashed"..bish bash boshed
'Off your trolley" wally or dolly
Bedazzled frazzle on the razzle
Laughter after a dafter shindig swig
On the "sozzle"..off his head ..off to bed
Reason for that big red schnozzle
Let's be frank those who get "tanked"
Get thanked...no..blanked & spanked
Don't deride those who decide
To get plied with or "pie eyed" with pride
Have a tiff with those who chose skew whiff
No need upsetting or fretting
Over a drunkard with a tankard
Rum dumb herbert on the sherbert
Woozy boozy floozy doozy
Getting whistle whetting "wanker*d"
Abuser..winner or loser
The boon of the last saloon
All soon forgetting having hankered
For.. then regretting that final boozer
"Wasted"...sauce basted I stammered
Could've plucked for being "f**cked"
Decoded it besetting with maybe "loaded"
Why's he passed on the class "rat-arsed"
Not fussed..nonplussed he cussed
Sussed just with mates getting 'hammered"
So don’t muzzle the "guzzler"
Cripple the ripple of the "tippler"
Can’t match "down the hatch"
Or sip & sup..because "bottom’s up"
No frowning cake-hole sold on downing
Beer.. .neck oil by heck will spoil our laughing gear
Crowning the glory or gory story
Comedy gold told of being "arsehol*d"
Ickle fickle wee "pickled" trickle tickle
Temptation of a nifty sneaky shifty
Iffy & squiffy in a jiffy veneration
Don't be piddly about diddly while tiddly
They might from afar mutter
Wot a nutter...one too many jars
One too many bars ..not caring...I would utter
Have a flutter...I’m lying in the gutter
Rego & I flying while staring at the stars
II-Marie
It was two full days after this charade
when Marie was told the grim news,
her ex-husband had been shanked in prison,
killed by two illegal alien youths.
When she went down to the funeral,
she was greeted by the dirtiest glares,
except from Robby’s sister, Jana,
a quiet your woman of grace and care.
They talked long after the service had
come to its sad and dignified end,
Jana said,”I know you didn’t plan for this,
but I’m hoping that we can remain friends.”
Marie was taken aback by this,
it came out of nowhere, a surprise,
but she saw a deep sincerity
in the young woman’s tired, blue eyes.
They did all the things the girlfriends do,
went to brunch, shopped too much, borrowed clothes,
Marie would let Aunt Jana take
the boys out for several hours or so.
Six months later on a Saturday night,
the two drank ’till their teeth learned to swim,
they took a cab back to Marie’s house,
and with a clamor, stumbled their way in.
Both of them collapsed on the big soda,
Marie said,”Haven’t danced like that in years.
Robby never really knew how to dance,
he’d just hang back and nurse a light beer.”
Marie had had too many drinks that night,
said,”He was always acting that way.
Had no ambition to movie up in the world,
nor to even try to bring home more pay.
“I wish I’d gotten through to that man,
and it is so sad that I never did,
but I deserve a comfortable life,
and, of course, must think of my kids.”
Jana mumbled drunkenly,”I understand,"
then quickly passed out to a boozy sleep.
Marie would soon fall asleep next to her,
for she felt too drunk to trust to her feet.
Three months later she awoke to a noise,
wood splintering as her front door crashed.
She ran down to hear a police sergeant
say,”We’ve a warrant boys, go find her stash!”
She stammered, unable to make sense of it,
when the cops found hidden bags of cocaine,
the sergeant slapped cuffs onto her wrists,
while she cried,”This must be a mistake!”
CONCLUDES IN PART III.
It’s 5pm and sunny in Ohio, 40 degrees
and dropping,
by dusk it will be grey turning to red
then black.
Where is the oyster shell now?
The heavenly picture
of a pale spume-tickled .
An unmarried Tudor lady
applies more cosmetic beeswax
to a Monarch butterfly.
I will see the road from my front window
for another hour.
At some time I will eat a cheese sandwich,
At the same time
Consequently I darkly develop
a sunny-side up dawn
casually dressed omelet.
A Siamese cat, coats a Knight
with heraldic tar from a nightjar.
A clay Madonna carves out
epicanthic folds
from an African twilight.
I believe in chains of associations
leading to all possible outcomes.
House plants rent a niche of bedrock.
Plumes of cigar smoke flutter
in airless Mayan canyons.
Factory farmed Quetzalcoatl’s
hustle the leafy bustles of housemaids
as they feather dust aspidistras.
Mind can join together
one probability or another,
one word to another,
words that seem unrelated
yet together trigger an image
that feels newborn.
An iron skillet, crushes walnuts
on a coffin of dead elephants,
a black casket casts kitchen shadows.
Here’s the thing, this power
that may seem like a weakness,
actually
is the way the multi-universe works.
Camels swim an underground sea,
sand dunes wave over a once boozy tavern.
Humpback whales
recite the scriptures
of aesthetic scarab beetles.
The laws of poetically possible realities
operate for you when you follow
your imaginative mind-stream,
all these co-dependent transitional factors
want to link hands.
A speckled moonlight
chases a hen
around a weather vane
while a barnyard tornado
whisks a can of English beer.
Congratulations, you are now a creator,
demonstrating clearly
that you are a child of God.
Park bench encounter
Old man staring;
Faraway look
~~~~~~~~~
Financial district
Business downturn;
By this fringe
~~~~~~~~~
Stormy evening
Rain flows like oil;
Lightning dazzles
~~~~~~~~~
Lift landing
Blank faces congregate;
Alone together
~~~~~~~~~
Wind on my face
Rushing home;
Rain water wets
~~~~~~~~~
Somnolent interlude
Cricket musical;
Deep dark night
~~~~~~~~~
One by one
Bougainvilleas wither;
Floral carpet
~~~~~~~~~
Pre-war terrace house
Old time architecture;
Four bougainvillea pots
~~~~~~~~~
Bus stop crowd
Two others plus me;
A long wait
~~~~~~~~~
Chinese barbecue pit
Chinese roast meat shop;
Long customer queue
~~~~~~~~
Unique antiques
Old proprietor smiles;
Curious shop sign
~~~~~~~~~
Fashion parade
Glamour girls waltz;
Runway postures
~~~~~~~~~
Beer and buzz
Evening outing;
Boozy conversations
~~~~~~~~~
Parkway passage
Playground gossip;
Maids chatter
~~~~~~~~~
Hymn of morning
Birdsong choral;
Lost in translation
~~~~~~~~~
Huge ancient tree
Witness to change;
Silent sentinel
~~~~~~~~~
Humid overtures
Sun without wind;
Temperature runs riot
~~~~~~~~~
Chit-chat moment
Old lady neighbour;
Market trip
~~~~~~~~~
Weary legs struggle
Heavy load in tow;
Footsteps homeward
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
24 June 2016
Singapore
Hard not to love Dylan Thomas’s tall tales
Each gloomy day may just tip those scales
Sends you off the rails when all else fails
Dilly dally schoolboys get cat of nine tails
Go doolally rally in the valley hard as nails
Don't cuss no faff or fuss for us Taff males
Knew along with a fair few Cymru crew's hue
Shared view that no where else has in spades
Cascades of so many gloriously grey shades
Dylan boozy villain mutters hip hop hooray
Gusts bluster beneath his sails on his travails
Trooping way this colour can't be kept at bay
Muster bulbous tinted voluptuous glinted bales
Proudly ride loudly in the night on his coattails
Very fond of merry vagabond's beyond the pales
Hail the true Withnail's escapades made in Wales
Don't harangue pang for meringue gang at play
Not a gimmick pray clouds don't go away hold sway
Rollick then frolic & fossick.. a limerick for any day
Outdoor foray adore bucolic score kaleidoscopic GREY
*Notting else tastes so good
when
the elegant daylight is still at spree
When
the bloomingblossoms are yet to yield
When
the earth yawns 'may we live
..left to grin.
The hibiscus now smiles in sane,
the boozy sky and its lumps of bread,
cookies sigh at the work of death, deterred -
the lame birds sing not hence
Viking's wrath dare not heart
The long bone of time
..walks in the shadow of the broken head and still crept
Jamie lost his entire,not bravery, not for mirth,
we kept streaming o'er streams
My pending thought, bamboozle us not -
Oh! we have aged in days
He looks at me palely
Words cannot contain the dead,
Eÿes, teeth turn red, I'm ... chided
soul illuminated, don't dilly-dally -
His silhouette has no eye
It quarantined us in, before this, he did saw our way through
At the scorching noon (to)fro
he's our Jesus after dawn after rise
From the noisy grave yard to a mute stand
Like he's on a cross, we go by the strand.
I grab the first quencher
from the botched daylight sojourner
it I've seen, it'i'l live, just out of darkness
My thoughts I'll harness feverishly
These glories I've seen in arrears
On jamie's erratic face, painstakingly*
I met a chap in an English pub and asked from whence he came.
"Harumph! I hail from Piddlehinton", he pompously did proclaim!
"And you sir?", he asked and I proudly puffed out my chest.
"I come from Bean Blossom, Indiana, USA, out of the great Midwest!"
With that we guffawed and began a dialogue about curious city names,
Quaffing pints of Guinness along, as we staked outrageous claims.
"Have you heard of Cripple Creek or French Lick?", I reported.
"No! 'Ave you 'eard of Mousehole or Puddletown?", he retorted.
I proffered the names of Bad Axe, Buzzards Bay and a place called Hazard.
He countered with Cockermouth, Muggleswick and a place named Lizard!
"If you visit the colonies stop by Pigeon Forge and Intercourse!"
"While you're 'ere visit Thunderjug and Giggleswick of course!"
He taunted me with names like Liphook, Lickey End and Crackpot,
But I boasted of Eek, Waxahachie, Bunkie and the burg of Jackpot!
He babbled on telling of Beanacre, North Piddle and Balls Cross.
I depleted my reservoir of names - I could only think of La Crosse!
He challenged me to a game of darts - the board was down the hall,
But in my delicate boozy condition, I could hardly see the wall!
I excused myself admitting that in darts and city names he was deft.
He was still muttering Birdlip, Fugglestone and Diddlebury as I left!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Hands clench stuck in a culinary trench with no French
Devotion can’t bench sensory commotion a saucy wench
Emotions wrench if no whiff on the breeze of cheese stench
Potions & notions quench..ocean lotions tastebuds drench
For a foodie bouillebaisse with timeless grace like Judi Dench
No dodgy Brigitte Bardot politics or slick card tricks of tarot
Go for Gallic garlic gall.. all will enthrall when in Gaul..Escargot
Choir of desire ce soir more beurre.. pot au feu.. boudin noir
The star steak au poivre or oeuvre as they make fresh tartare
Mussel frites hustle.. boozy bustle.. shellfish tussle of a bistro
Cassoulet with pomme puree then creme brulee classics spar
Foie gras a mardi gras or bizarre faux pas in brasserie bazaar
Pastry crew Michelin route could be choux or tasty en croute
Never hasty flavour douche a louche croquembouche maestro
Pouting fondue goo spouting fountains on mountains outing
Creamy tartiflette or steamy andouillette from piggy toilette
Forget Pret get a better baguette cornichons raclette touting
What’s more francois then petit pois or dreamy dauphinoise
Carbs shouting.. barbs flouting.. baked camembert scouting
No doubting dishes with calories sprouting diets are a routing
For some it’s foodie hell for me Heaven..my true blue belle
Fruit de Mer in that terracotta apparel has me over a barrel
Travel under the spell crustaceans relations you fell.. unravel
Shell fish fresh from saline swell my divine dell in La Rochelle
No askance glance at the chance for your palette to dance
In a trance at how they enchant stuff always buff & enhance
Know in advance their cultural stance.. revolution..the lance
Saw red aristocrats dead off with their head no longer prance
Instead perchance adored smorgasbord hoard vive la France