Long Sloshed Poems

Long Sloshed Poems. Below are the most popular long Sloshed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sloshed poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Brenda and Banron

Brenda and Banron bounced slowly on his boat
as the brilliant sun sparkled brightly on the glistening water.
Big and burly he was the boy she sought after in her book.
She smiled bravely as his battered pole slipped smoothly
through the babbling blue surf leaving the sand far behind.
"But why have you brought me to this barren sad place?" Brenda spoke.
Banron sized her up, staring blankly into her soft beryl eyes.
"It is seven leagues beyond the barrier reef that we are bound," he said.
Sea gulls skimmed lazily across the bow of the bobbing boat
as it slowly yet bullheadedly sloshed sprays of salty brine
into brackish basins starting to fill under the benches where they sat.
The sun was intense, battering her senses and beading sweat on her bosom.
"You better take me back Banron," she stated as their destination drew near.
The breeze blew stiff from the opening in a cliff soothing her hot breast
as butterflies stressed the bile in her bubbling stomach making her want to barf.
Believing Banron simply saw her for her body enticed her emotions,
but now she stirred self consciously as he gazed at her from beneath his brutish brow.
As the boat smoothly slid into the cave, before her she beheld a dark brackish stream 
"You don't seem to understand beautiful Brenda, I am not Banron, I am Chanron the boatman 
and before you lies the river Styx, now, one silver coin, if you please, my sweet baby."


09/19/16


A lovely lush


"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
Form: Rhyme

alent sho


He trundled his way up the three heavy steps
His mop of hair searching every direction
In the middle of the stage a brash spotlight
shone on a large drum kit
Behind a curtain dangled over a hand painted sign
The burgundy curtains partially
covering the letters making it look like alent sho

The boy now seated behind the kit dwarfed by its side.
He adjusted his seat slightly, closed his eyes and
took a breath
The crowds murmurs abruptly cut by some drunks
sloshed repartee -Hey.kid you, a belch breaking his sentence-forgot your sticks
With a tiiter of some of the onlookers
The young boy slowly opened his eyes
A tear slowly rolled down his pale cheeks
Swaying from his chin for a moment
before falling
It meandered along the cymbal's it’s tremor almost melodically before snapping upon the snare
Each tear falling in perfect formation
No beat missed a methodical beat
One after another
The silence of the audience
mesmerised by his music
He played with such sadness
The tears of those watching only adding to his symphony

Private Ryan

Down beside a stream that flowed red
Lilies stained from the wounds that bled
Short shallow breaths escaped him by
The troops at salute, watched him die
And with one last effort, he bawled
“For life, for home, for bread, for broad”

Ryan was a rather vague kid
He wasn’t the kind pegged to lead
But one day the big, big man knocked
And handed him a shotgun, cocked
Go, Ryan, we’re in grave danger and
Only your strength can save our land

And so, like others, Ryan went
I’m sure ‘twas the fifth week of Lent
To join the other kids and boys
Who had been given lethal toys
Because they were in danger and
Only their strength could save the land

Their first fight was at Old Burgoyne
It was Ryan’s first battle won
But there too, he saw Death firsthand
The pain the “saving” did demand
And watched his comrades slip away
Into chaos each passing day

But Ryan went on, resolute
Brass saw him the perfect recruit
With each shot, his poor soul went prone
With each death brush, his heart went stone
And at night they would slip inside
With broad, and beer and bread beside

He sloshed many a foeman dead
His kiddy hands all shone blood-red
Till they had to take the ghyll
And there a bullet crushed his skull
And his comrades watch him fade
His last charge in the South Brigade

They held his funeral in state
With the others who shared his fate
In a grave so large and so wide
They fit ten thousand more inside
Then they gave someone else his gun
For they had to save “everyone”

The big man stopped by Ryan’s door
This time he came for the neighbour
With urgent cries, John got a nuke
The big man cried, his body shook
Quick, there’re people we have to save
The reds have risen from their grave
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Pitches

The band was loud, but in the other room and the bar was jammed.
He set his drink down a little too hard and it over-sloshed a bit.

“Run away with me,” he said, spreading his arms wide, “I’m done with school!”
“Well.. you graduated - that’s why you’re done,” she said, somewhat confused.
“We share a gravity, you and I - we’re.. we’re like aligned suns,” he romanticized.
“You should’ve majored in sales.” she said, sipping her own beer.
“Our love is so real, so raw - it's pure and yet - so street.”
“We have ‘love cred’?” She asked doubtfully.
“Wherever we go, we'll navigate that urban maze, hand in hand, we’ll OWN those concrete streets, we’ll paint our own graffiti!
“Have you snorted something?’
“No matter what life throws at us, we’ll face those challenges head-on and we'll stay united.”
“Have you been practicing this?” She asked
“We’ll swagger,” he said, “our love will be timeless..”
“And rhymeless,” she interjected hopefully.
“Together, we’ll be urban legends..” he continued.
“Like Bonnie and Clyde?” she asked, making a yuck face.
“We’ll be living art,” he said dreamily.
“Sounds dope.” She admitted.
“Then you’ll DO it?” He asked.
“Until Monday,” she said, nodding in assent, “classes start on Monday,” she shrugged.
“It was worth a shot.” he said stoically, after a moment.
“It was a good pitch’” she said, taking his hand in hers.
“I didn’t oversell - I wasn’t too pushy?”
“No, you were right there,” she assured him.
“Maybe next time,” he said.
“Yeah, maybe next time”
They kissed.


Premium Member Slow Boat To China

I was born in a landlocked getaway town
Where all the colors were black, gray, or brown.
Jobs at the steel mill were ratcheting down.
It was not in my future to stay.

So, I took a long walk off a very short pier,
An unschooled, untraveled recruit buccaneer
On a quest to cross Neptune’s vast salty frontier.
Hopped a slow boat to China one day.

Underway on the Crescent City, it seemed
The ocean was wider than I’d ever dreamed.
A ship load of sinners, our souls unredeemed
Steaming west toward whatever there was.

Keelung told Hong Kong to call Singapore.
Subic Bay badgered Mombasa for more.
Sea legs, as always unsteady ashore,
Even more so with liquor and drugs.

Bilge water sloshed in the depths of the hold.
The mizzen mast learned what the typhoon foretold.
I was sea duty tempered and Shell Back enrolled;
Wasn’t nothing but maritime norm.

I was born in a hard luck blue collar town.
Half the way broken and half the way down.
But time gifts its renaissance scepter and crown
To a jack tar who’s weathered the storm.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member OKTOBERFEST

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Autumn’s abundance attracts adventurers to Munich.
Oompa bands boast boisterous beats.
Beneath the boundless, blue Bavarian skies,
Bountiful banquets beckon where breads and bratwurst blend,
Beer bottles beckon, from barrels and bars.
Steins are sloshed with swaggering splendor.
Generations gather; Bavarians bask in bucolic bliss.
Hearts harmonize in humble hymns of heritage held dear.
Hand in hand, they huddle, harvesting hope

*Oktoberfest in Germany will take place from September 20 to October 5, 2025. This annual festival is held at the Theresienwiese in Munich. (source: oktoberfest.de). You still have time to book a flight and travel to Munich; hotel rooms, though, will be hard to find.  smiles

Premium Member Arthur

The bar was open at nine
And my banker said all was fine
Champagne and limousines
Roses tossed, like petals in time

She caught my fancy
She looked divine
I was sloshed
Spoiled in wine

I asked for a dance
Heavens chance
An endless love
On the wheels of romance

We kissed the night away
In chariot drawn horse
Central park, lovers embrace
Leaving our bliss all to fate

Once in a lifetime
Dreams do come true
Your heart is stolen
And love holds you true

I grasped the moon
And held it tight
Deep within, I am a little boy
Is crazy but its true

One day I played with trains
The next station brought me her
That’s all I knew
Till I fell in love

Flowers wilted
As time long passed
My love was hers
Forever, but its true




Arthur's Theme
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qMdwFkO8xA0

Premium Member He Was Just a Little Boy

I was born unto this world
A little boy called James
I was just like all the rest
Who in the playground played normal games

I knew my life was in trouble
By the time I reached the age of five
My mother had so many friends
I wondered why I was alive

The kids all used to laugh at me
In my short trousers and bloodied knees
If only they had known
What was going on, in the inside of me

Would they ever know
Why a mother would put you down
And pretend that your not there
As another arrives from out of town

Have they ever wondered
To go to school with clothes unwashed
Sleep on a concrete floor
While your Mother's comfortably sloshed

Do they ever stop and wonder
What happens around them day by day
They can't, because they are young like me
When all they want to do is play

My teens are around the corner
To secondary school I go
I survive and I get wiser
As I intend my life to flow

As we travel down life's highways
When we are born they are seldom written
You know the roads you want to take
For inside you, your internally smitten
Form: Quatrain

Three Cheers

No, no
It’s not any
Premature celebration,
But just some fun,
When everyone’s so sick
Of this pandemic.
So, ‘What are the cheers for?’
You may rightly ask.
But then, isn’t it a task
To stand in such 
Disciplined way-
Braving not only the heat, 
But also freak
Thunderstorms of May
Oh yes, I’m talking of
India’s frontline warriors
Sloshed and soggy
Saving the ‘tottering’ economy
After all, government's empty coffers 
Have to be replenished
And, they must buy their bottle
Before the stocks get finished
In this war
Let help pour
From every ‘quarter’
Every ‘pint'
I hope
You get the hint
It’s time to 
Come out ‘all mouths reeking'
Some sober, some tipsy, some puking
It’s this fighting ‘spirit’
Which will eventually overcome Covid
Hence, can we please
Stop our jeers
And instead
Raise a toast 
To all the tipplers out there-
‘Three Cheers'.
© Vijai Pant  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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