It ends with the dogs of war being let loose,
Licking their bloody lips.
Karen overthrows and bestrides her enemy in the bloody fray,
Ignoring the loud exclamations of murder roared forth.
But it is impossible to discuss arrangements with
An impulsive man who has tears
In his eyes and both his
Arms round your neck.
I listen to BBC Radio 4 on a Wednesday morning with breakfast -
Listeners are encouraged to meet the highly
Intelligent, bright yellow blob,
That doesn't have a brain.
Where are you Madame Chrysanthème and your experiments?
Dirty. Loud. Brilliant.
Bubbling babbling burbling banter brimming at the bar
First sup.. hush…memory lane trip rush..nicely tickled
Plush lace ebbed…lush beer swirls race webbed
Whirls..down dimpled dappled jar....nicely pickled
Pagans perch….sip druid fluid drip…Iris’s secular church
Trumpet tradition.. beacons blush in embers of the past
Cluttered classy cast of polished pewter..ballsy brass
Whimsy wafting across tobacco tinted tainted times
Parched patrons quaffing while cavorting with crannies
Carousing with nooks sporting timber flannelled panels
As sons then become dad..on the same pews with their lad
Lawyer betwixt a tyro…local employer..bumpkin on the giro
Museums of marvels.. hoodwink misplaced metaphors
Laced with a house pour of moreish memories of before
Gracious Landladies…loquacious landlords near and far..
Who let us roam in our home from home we raise our jar
To every special space.. familiar face in that third place..ta
There was a girl in a night club,
Who tripped in that crowded pub.
She bruised her left arm,
But laughed off the harm,
And danced while a dog ate her grub.
Sixteen sailors strode into a pub,
Then a group of them left to get some grub.
Those who remained got into a fight,
With some locals who drank there every night.
Although the sailors did outnumber
The locals (who were also dumber),
Two sailors shy of a ratio of two-to-one,
The seafarers lost and the locals had won.
But then exactly half who had left for food,
Returned to the pub in a foul mood.
One local had left, a man named Tor,
Until the ratio was the reverse of what it was before,
Even though the beaten sailors couldn't fight,
The fresh sailors versus the locals, all right!
Don't ask me how it went,
For I will forever remain silent.
But could you determine how many sailors
Could be considered failures,
Because they went to get grub
And didn't return to the pub
Never swinging a punch nor taking a fall,
Against the locals at all?
Golly, what a Pickle you’re In -- Bub,
How is it That you’re stuck in a Pub?
Gullible -- You look, Pimp
for why not hop, on Blimps?
and Fly in its Massive Ruba-dub.
Irish tales of what a leprechaun gives away
If you don’t wear green on St Paddy’s Day
a painful pinch
Like Suisse’s Grinch,
a green tie or vest so invisible you’ll stay
by I Am Anaya
On St. Paddy's day I grabbed a lassie fair
kissed her lips and pinched her derriere
I so love this tradition
I'm a gent on a mission
Shall I go on I asked, she screamed don't you dare!
by Robert O'Gorelick
My lil green party dress for Paddy’s day is too tight
and I don’t want to get pinched by elves tonight
I let out the seams
And removed all that blings
Clear of Leprechaun’s with a big whiskey appetite
by I Am Anaya
Out on the razzle for Saint Patrick’s night
All dressed up in green, one has to look right
I’ll do my high kicks
As I can’t resist
Being a dare devil, and giving fright
by Beryl Edmunds
there was a young man from Ennis
who desired to learn to play tennis
the ball whacked him in the head
so he decided to go to a pub instead
and have fun drinkin’ the Guiness
there was a young man named Dennis
who staggered from a pub in Ennis
he thought he boarded a train
but woke up on a plane
and found he was headed to Venice
Cranberry garlands the Christmas tree
Piña empanadas and gifts of filigree
Children’s faces aglow
Kissing ‘neath the mistletoe
Midnight mass tradition with family
Flights have been cancelled call the hotels!
Humbug to last minute changes and jingle bells
Lil black dress doesn’t fit
BYO Test My Drink Kit
It’s pub night with my standby drinking pals
Merry Christmas
Joyeux Noël
Feliz Navidad
Happy Hanukkah
Happy Kwanzaa!
I wish I could do a pub crawl
go out and go real mad
I wish I could do a pub crawl
But it would really make me bad.
Just one sugar laden pint of ale
Would make me go a whiter shade of pale.
I wish I could do a pub crawl
It really makes me sad.
but if I do a pub crawl
it would really make me bad.
I would love to do a pub crawl
maybe for one final time
But I dare not rave, I've reached that age
Where I'm fast asleep by nine.
I wish I could do a pub crawl
it would really blow my mind.
But my sugar count is pandamount
to definately make me go blind.
I wish I could do a pub crawl
Have a laugh with all of you
I wish I could do a pub crawl
give my liver some work to do
But I cant get wired
I'm always tired
its just not a thing that I should do
I wish I could do a pub crawl
You know I really do.
but I dare not be so bold.
Ive gotten too old.
I dare not get far from my loo.
so I can't do a pub crawl
It something that I cant fix
no I cant do a pub crawl.
I guess its time to watch Netflix
CLICK!
People started running,
for buses, taxis, trains,
with umbrellas no defence,
against the wind and rain,
a drowned rat cycled past,
then disappeared down a lane,
when lightening flashed, I dashed,
hoping to dry out again.
I shot past the pub’s “welcome” sign,
“No Prams or Pushchairs Inside”,
then scrutinised the menu,
for something not micro’d or fried,
with my paper, pint, pasty, and peas,
I sat by the warm fireside,
waiting for the storm to pass,
and brighter weather outside.
I saw him in that pub today,
and she was with him, too,
and that other fella, hmm.
You often wonder, often ponder.
I stopped for a moment,
walking through the room,
going to the bar.
She gave me a look.
Was I being suspicious?
They certainly made me think.
Yes, you often ponder, often wonder.
He and she? He and he? She and he and he?
(12 Dec 2023)
Happy at night,
singing from pub to pub.
Disguised with the dark
among the crowd.
Another toast to celebrate,
another night on the rocks,
singing to rejoice
drinking to forget.
Dancing with his own music,
with no sound, just voices in his mind.
Sad in the morning,
different dance with the light.
Empty glasses for a new toast
to rehearse a new day.
A new song without words,
another one to be written.
A new glass on the rocks
empty of happiness.
Another toast to be praised,
waiting for a new dusk to sing.
Away with work
I'm going to the pub
Not to sink my woes
Just get some grub
My room is tiny
Cats can't swing
My keyboard's here
But I can't sing
I'm four floors up
The view is fine
This bed is huge
I lie supine
Perhaps a beer
Or glass of wine?
Some veggie nosh
Would be just fine
I'll shake it off
And take the stairs
Just basic 'T' shirt
No grace, or airs
I have a book
To feed my brain
While work provides
This gravy train
So smarten up
In every sense
To feed the soul
Is common sense
Perhaps a poem
I'll take and scribe
At dull routine
I'll make a jibe
Pub - Tale
When thirsty, wishing mimosa Mocktail.
Drinking hasty, bear,wine, whiskey Cocktail.
Few Males turning naughty
Glasses not left empty.
Filling goblet, feeling tipsy : Pub - Tale !
05/14/23
Funny Bawdy or Humorous Limerick
Fourth place
Contest by Tania Kitchin
Sub Categories
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