Short Three Sheets To The Wind Poems

Alcohol
Social lubricant?
Laughing, falling, fighting.
Three sheets to the wind!
Drunk...

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His fits, in a fitted, offend
With a top sheet, he made his amend
So he opened a store
And he drank a bit more
And now he’s three sheets to the wind


H/T, 2nd verse for Daisy Ward's The Mind...

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I pegged them out on my clothes line,
   Like puppets on a string.
   Those baggy pants fit for a clown,
   Such laughter they did bring.

   That claret shirt, high as a kite,
   And three sheets to the wind.
   They will dry out, to my delight,
   My wet suit it has sinned.


   George. Seal.   4/ 1/ 2015.
   No. 3 clothesline.
   Let me feel your lines....

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Three sheets in the wind
And rubbed the wrong way
By a fair weather friend
You must seize the day

Let your hair down 
And lay down the law
Be the talk of the town
With your last hurrah

With all your high hopes
Few and far in between
Up against the ropes
Taking one for the team

Play your cards right
No guts no glory
Still High as a kite
The same old story...

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I have fashioned my desire from Carpathian obsessions,
Indulging in the calm between extremes.
It’s a blood and iron promise that sets my soul alight,
Embarked upon a pilgrimage of dreams. 
Standing on the foredeck in a silent, moonlit trance,
Sipping from a chalice rimmed with stars.
Knowing when I find her, I’ll be three sheets to the wind,
Branded by an irony of scars....

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No, I did nay walk the cold harbour docks
Felt too tipsy and fell in the drink
Drank too much as the ticker in me tocks
Dead men tell no tales in the blink
Eyes patched over me hardy, yar, flows
The wine inta piss, my heart inta bliss
Rows the dead man telling no tales
Rows the dead man drinkin those ales
Three to tha wind laddies, heave ho
I'm nay walkin home, I can't go....

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