The dreamers
She has fallen asleep in the living room, watching TV
I feel guilty should have joined her, but soap opera, do my head in
Now, I am going to sit near her on the sofa and when she wakes up
She will think I have been sitting there all the time
She will be happy and hold my hands
I have promised her tomorrow, we are going for a drive along the coast
Stop for coffee and a cake, and watch the young swimmers frolicking
She will tell me again at the time she was a stewardess and danced
The tango in Buenos Aires, not to be outdone, I will tell a story from
The time when I was young, omitting the women thing-
She had a great time while I spent much time reading books and
Dreaming in the ship’s cabin, I had no the courage to live the life
Unless I was sozzled and my phobia of the outdoors ran my life, about
The jolly man who knew tomorrow, the fear would return.
There is a bubble of illusion right here on the soup
Its shadow still finds the same sozzled group
This conjuring is cloaked and lobbied with scripture
But ego confuses the muse and its picture
Artistry is squandered and concealed by the night
Infractions are made in the absence of light
When opportunity is lost, despair fuels our anger
Conviction falls duped to this unyielding danger
Compassion and patience, are a poet’s best cure
Lost thoughts will return, of this I am sure
May your pen drip with ink and your ego soon go
Your muse will return, it’s just ebb and flow
5/17/22
Bubble of Illusion Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
I am drunk, stoned, woozy and tipsy
Drinking beer, brandy and whiskey,
Swinging with abandon like a gipsy.
Kinda crazy, sozzled but hella merry…
Ha, Mary, kiss me! And Yo Sherry,
Your luscious lips, red as a ripe cherry…
Yoo-hoo, life could be a ding-a-derry.
The unsavory past is but long forgotten
Life’s more fun now and not at all rotten
The hurt is bearable and the pain lessen
Since flirting with this devious devil often
Brings me bliss and heartaches soften.
Like little children laugh, dance and sing
All summer, winter, autumn and spring,
With a passionate heart I bid you to bring
lots of hugs, kisses and joyful yodeling.
~A Brian Strand contest.
Contest: Addiction
Sponsor: Rob Levasseur
Sister Susie swigged seven Sangria's,
Seven Sangria's sister Susie swigged.
Swigging seven Sangria's was so stupid -
Susie’s severely sozzled her twin sister twigged!
1/17/20
I was leanin' on the fence slurpin' a mug o' joe,
Admirin' my neighbor's garden and watchin' Harry hoe.
"Harry, Harry", I asked, "What makes yer garden grow?"
"I spread oodles of fecal matter on each and ever' row!"
Clyde spent an afternoon guzzlin' Coors in his neighborhood saloon.
He swore he saw a cat play a fiddle and a cow jump over the moon!
He was so sozzled that he was taken to a clinic to recover from his swoon,
And it was there that he was certified to be wackier than a loon!
Humpty Dumpty fell from a balcony splattered upon the street below!
Was he shoved, was he soused or suffered an untimely bout of vertigo?
He was a fairly 'bad' egg from what is heard from pals in the know.
It was just 'rotten' luck that his fragile shell couldn't withstand the blow!
Little Jack Horner sat in a corner devourin' a large pizza pie.
He furtively sipped some brew and was gettin' rather high!
His momma was aghast at such behavior and confiscated the beer.
"Just wait 'til yer Pa gets home" said she and boxed him on the ear!
Claus chose Vixen to lead his sleigh this year.
Rudolph was assigned to bring up the rear.
Vixen was promoted;
Rudy was demoted,
Since he was sozzled and too drunk to steer!
Entry for Tania Kitchin's "Funny Reindeer Limerick" Contest
(8 December 2018)
Yoga is in half an hour, I've had my shower.
And dinner too, with wine.
Problem is last time I had yoga with wine,
after downward dog my head was a fog.
Not a good look, It could be mistook
for an unfit adult a little bit sozzled
at yoga class.
I pick up my notepad and find a sharp pencil
(Hope any comments won’t be too detrimental)
I scan the contest themes and hope I’m inspired
I’ll enter an old poem if I’m just too darn tired
I post my ‘best effort’ and hope that I win …
Yet ANOTHER N/A so I start hitting the gin!
With tears in my eyes I soup mail all my friends
There’ll be a ‘screwed contest’, will that pay dividends?
I finish the bottle, then scan the 'best new poems list'
My poem’s ‘pisadeered’, how my eyes start to mist
My masterpiece isn’t there - where has it gone?
It’s been cast into the realms of total oblivion
My eyes are now closing, I’m too sozzled to write
It’s well after midnight so I’ll bid you goodnight ....
I wake in the morning, dash to check all the lists ...
but with all the moaning on blogs… they no longer exist!
Inspired by Jerry T Curtis's POTD
07~25~16
Jane was renown for her very short fuse
'Specially when she was sozzled with booze
She relished a barroom brawl
And took on any and all
With whomever she had divergent views
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 5 in John Freeman's "Slapstick Limerick" Contest - March 2011
Consider this;
The falling apple bangs your head,
Obvious conclusions to draw,
Yet fantastical, even mystic,
Frozen thoughts begin to thaw,
And lubricate the mind once thick,
Then suddenly Eureka! Conundrum read.
A case in point;
Woozy Jean is sozzled at the bar,
And Joe approaches leering spilling drink,
Familiar scene is painted here again,
She misses sex so it ain’t the time to think,
Why does she always pick pathetic men?
When morning comes, she wakes up in the car.
Thumping pain is banging in her head,
And Joe is lying on the pavement dead!