Short Liquor Store Poems
Short Liquor Store Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Liquor Store by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Liquor Store by length and keyword.
Les Moore went down to the liquor store
But then wound up passed out on the floor
He woke Gin anointed
And guite disappointed
So I guess you might say less is more
Civilians who chant “liquor store blues”
within a Memphis alley way
Where the classical band plays
From dusk till dawn
Would lack intelligence
Should they be taught
That she resembles a foul sprite
For some wild centaur.
Alexis wanted Christmas spirit
A lot of it, exceeding limit;
The liquor store was closed
Its owner indisposed
"Back in a minute" seemed implicit.
For Alexis's Christmas Limerick Contest
8th December, 2020
Well, if this contest is like your past
You'd better run to the liquor store fast
You may be standing in line
To get your blackberry wine
And find out they've just sold the last
06/20/11 For Francine's Wine contest
Love went to the liquor store
She bought a bottle
Drank until the bottle was dry
Walked on over to the hardware store
Where there she bought a hunting knife
Love sliced open my chest
Her hands grasped my heart
She had a hearty meal
Dropping her knife
She walked away in the dark
Love stole my heart
ROSES
dead of winter
poor rose bush
empty branches
but it pricks me when i pass
just sleeping it says
my son asks
where do roses go in winter
for once i can answer
why to pasadena son
to the rose parade
rose
at fifty she was long gone
she’d pass a flower shop
but at the liquor store make a stop
where she’d pick four roses
Dave Austin
I always like a wine that's good.
Let's go to the liquor store in our neighborhood.
As a connoisseur, I'm not very shrewd.
What I want all depends on my current mood.
It doesn't matter if it is a red or white.
Just one that tastes good is the one that's right.
My buddy, what kind of wine do you want to drink tonight?
Inspired by another member's poem
The deer shake off the headlights
We sat in the car outside the
liquor store peering like deer, our eyes
following Pinky as she went in to
the store for a twelve pack of beer.
Our breathing stops. She's carded. Shucks.
Fake card works. Yes! Pinky time. She
sashays back, with beer and condoms, smiling.
connie pachecho
4/12/17
Note-Kwansaba 7 sentences/lines containing 7 words in each?
Fire flash in the night sky
Neon drips from my sores
On my knees in the church
Or in the liquor store
Shot down like a dove
Cut down like the grass
Rotating in space around a
gravitational mass
I struggle to see through these
tired burned eyes
I struggle to breathe
as I try to rationalize
Let's go for a walk down
that old alley way
Let's talk about war
and radioactive decay
There is a hazelnut-flavored liquor named "Frangelico"
It's named after a hermit monk who lived long ago.
This twenty percent alcohol spirit comes from Italy.
All over the world, it has gained popularity.
The liquor's brown bottle resembles a Franciscan friar.
Sip it straight up, or in any mixed drink you desire.
After you buy it for the first time in any liquor store,
chances are, when it's gone, you will buy some more.
It all begun I should have been overstrung however the puppy love begun
Wasn’t matured completely to acquire any alcoholic refreshments from any liquor store yet the love I grown for her was drunk
Can I overcome what we could had become
Months of squeezing you like a sponge, love was easily squeezed out like a sponge
The expense you pay when your in love I need a refund
That thing termed love for me is out of sight I’m done.
(The End)
- Loverboi
(This is a fictional poem)
I was broke and it wasn't easy being poor.
I loaded my gun and decided to rob a liquor store.
The owner went for his gun so I shot him in the head.
I took the money and left him on the floor dead.
A few hours later I was arrested and put in jail.
I'm about to be executed, I hope the priest can prevent me from going to Hell.
I just ate my last meal and I'm really scared.
I did something that was stupid and now I'm going to die in the electric chair.
Form:
That Hundred-year-old rosewood door,
Imported from Brazil and hung before the civil war,
according to the local folklore,
It was a magnificent reddish brown wooden door.
That adorned the front of a liquor store.
An Old newspaper clipping humorously
describes the terrific uproar.
And the gore when a hundred local women or more
stormed that liquor store they were unhinged
when they ripped down that old rosewood door
After that day never more
did that liquor store open its door
Secrets in lush lavish country
Clubs shaded glasses diamond rooms
Portraits of oily men in vivid black jackets
With eyes following yours
A wrinkled hand snakes up a silk evening
Dress ruffled in moaning red lip
Stick the clean check in the drawer
Cameras in corners sleep like spiders
White winter city streets
Buildings exhale steam like dragons
Liquor-store doors with black iron bars
Brick-brown crumbling churches on corners
Black crows cackle sunset
Trees freeze dipping down