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Poetry prompt week 18: Drinking poems

3 years ago

This times prompt is to come up with the best drinking song possible! Make it as joyful and happy or sad and tragic as you can; it’s all upon you.

 

Poetry prompt week 18: Drinking poems

3 years ago

The world is going to hell, 

Hunger, poverty, and famine have ravaged the lands,

Our town is going to hell, 

Every man with two feet has long fled these lands, 

 

And those who haven’t, 

are doomed for hell,

as all they are now,

are cutthroats and brigands,

 

Even the holy men are worried for the future of men,

For even the Lord can’t forgive these sins of men...

 

But we don’t care and order some more,

And get more drunk like there’s no tomorrow,

We will celebrate till dawn is upon us,

So roll out the barrels, and come sit next to us!

 

Come forget all your woes, and sit next to us!

And pour the holy mead for all of us!

To cleanse our souls, and to heal our woes,

Because judgement day will soon be upon us!

 

So give me more beer, until I’m not here!

Out of this world and completely drunk!

‘Cause we never know, if Jesus is here ‘morrow,

and this’ll be the last time we’re drunk!

 

(Inspired by the Czech song ‘poverty and famine’)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-iWvPYjYsMg&feature=share

 

 

 

Poetry prompt week 18: Drinking poems

3 years ago

@Gower @Ozoni @Mayana @Orange @Austinc @ninjapitka @IsentinelPenguin @Fiscean-Chef@The_Broken_God  @TharaApples @C6H8O6 @Cupcakitty_13

Points list:

Gower: 26

Serpent: 9

Ozoni: 8

Mayana: 4

Orange: 11

Austinc: 17

IPenguin:4

Fiscean: 13

Broken god: 12

Thara:4

Cricket:5

Ninja: 14

Me: 18

Cupcake: 8

C6H8: 4

Poetry prompt week 18: Drinking poems

3 years ago

Marginally related and I'd promised to post it on site some time ago. Here it is, though not a song.


Pitiful creature

There is a mad bee

He resides inside my skull

Poor little bastard

I'd let him out if I could

Feel what he's doing

Practicing tap on my brain

Dancing lights waltzing stomach

Perpetuating

My eyes must be disco balls


Moscow to California

He traveled by mule

Copper plated Carapace

And in down the hatch

He wears heavy boots

Can't find his way out again

It's an S.O.S.

Sent in by stinger

Now he is going to die
 

Pitiful Creature

Poetry prompt week 18: Drinking poems

3 years ago

Freeform? Quite a nightmare. I'll leave the tune, tempo, and such to the reader's imagination - just imagine a chorus of drunken men singing this.

Pour us a drink,
O' barkeep, keep pouring.
Pour us a drink,
'till we can't drink no more.

Pour us a drink 'till our wounds are forgotten,
Pour us a drink 'till we can't see no more.

The battle continues,
And us men, we march,
And the hardship continues,
With only one resolve:

Men raise your cups,
As the drinks are a'pouring!

Men raise your cups,
And all woes will begone!

So Pour us a drink,
O' barkeep, keep pouring!
Pour us a drink,
And tonight shall last!

Hardship surrounds us,
But ye shouldn't fear,
For nothing is finer,
Than a cool mug of beer.

So pour us a drink,
O' barkeep, keep pouring,
Pour us a drink,
'till we can't drink no more.

The Bar on East Manhattan

3 years ago

I know I’m late but I couldn’t help but try my hand at it. I keep imagining this to the tune of Big Rock Candy Mountain. No idea why.

 

 

In the bar on East Manhattan

There’s live music every day

It starts at 12th of Never

And always gets delayed

 

The barmaid is a beauty

If you look past her rotten gums

She’s always right and snooty

And her nose looks like a thumb

 

The owner’s a good fella

If you like ratchety old men

He’ll wack you with his umbrella

Just for giving him a grin

 

At least the building’s not too bad

If you don’t mind the rats

And one thing that I should add

It smells like a pissing cat

 

The locals are all friendly

But they’ll never be caught there

So there’s one too many 

Tourist, and they all tend to glare

 

But the brandy can’t be beaten

And they’ll never cut you off

So you won’t catch me cheatin’

On that bar that is a scruff

 

So come with me

We’ll go and drink

Until we can’t see

And the place don’t stink

In the bar on East Manhattan

 

Poetry prompt week 18: Drinking poems

3 years ago

Midnight to Six

Through the murky haze of smoke and chatter,
The juke-box throbs its unheeded message.
Tables and chairs - coke and coffee - talk and laughter.
Strange faces and unknown voices probe the darkness;
All are strangers, but I am not alone.
In the midst of all my darkness, these are my saviours,
I feel; I live; I have regained my own;
I am not listening but I hear, I cannot see but I do.

Staring at the dregs of my coffee and my life
I am awakened by the dark silence enveloping me.
      Alone again -
I climb the steps to darkness, to the world of people,
People who look but do not see, who listen but do not
      hear.
How can you, when you have not lived outside your
      darkness?

Poetry prompt week 18: Drinking poems

3 years ago

dankness

Poetry prompt week 18: Drinking poems

3 years ago

Just a reminder to all that the word "week" in the heading is just out of my sheer respect for Romulus' tradition and that this prompt is still open for submissions. (There's virtually no time limit as such, but please don't go necroing older prompts)

Poetry prompt week 18: Drinking poems

3 years ago

Ah, good to know. I thought I'd be too late for this.

Poetry prompt week 18: Drinking poems

3 years ago

Drunken Dug

 

They say he was born in a barrel of wine,

With blood that ran of mead.

Never would he drink from his mother’s breast,

For milk he didn’t need.

They say he was raised on gin and rum,

Our good old, drunken Dug.

And he’d preach that the eighth deadly sin

Was a man with an empty mug.

 

Tap, Tap, Turn the Tap,

Chug the beer and throw your cap.

Toast the host, and slap a maid,

Tonight, as if your tab is paid.

 

Now his tankard was a dragon’s tooth

He took from the very maw;

Lulled the beast to sleep with a fine liquor,

And then he pried the jaw.

When the dragon woke, he was very cross,

To find the gaping hole.

But he forgave when he ate Dug’s parting gift;

A whiskey casserole.

 

Tap, Tap, Turn the Tap,

Chug the beer and throw your cap.

Slap the host, and chase a maid,

Tonight, as if your tab is paid.

 

When he heard that the finest alcohol

Was kept beyond the grave,

He pursued the reaper down below,

Into the deepest cave.

“Death, take me now!” he begged him,

For I’ve seen the brochure;

I’ll gladly spend forever on your

Hellish drinking tour.

 

Tap, Tap, Turn the Tap,

Chug the beer and throw your cap.

Chase the host, and bed a maid,

Tonight, as if your tab is paid.

 

Well, the devil at first was overjoyed

With such an eager guest.

But Dug could chug twenty kegs a day,

And left none for the rest.

"My thirsty friend, you just have to go,”

Satan showed him out.

“But if you ever pass this way again,

We’ll share a jug of stout.”

 

Tap, Tap, Turn the Tap,

Chug the beer and throw your cap.

Bed the host, and wed a maid,

Tonight, as if your tab is paid.

 

Bed the host, and wed a maid,

Tonight, as if your tab is paid!

Poetry prompt week 18: Drinking poems

3 years ago

(To the tune of Eins, Zwei G'suffa)

 

Drinking Song at the Society of Thieves and Assassins, Ladies Auxiliary.

 

Here's a little game whose rules are clear

Here's some mugs and here's some beer

Take a swig and make it disappear

When we say something you've done.

 

Let's keep everything between us gals

Drinking partners should be pals

There's no bonus points and there's no fouls

Drink when it's something you've done

 

I'm well known for my luscious thighs!

One, two, guzzle!

I am a master of disguise!

One, two, guzzle!

 

I'm often dressed indecently!

One, two, guzzle!

I poisoned someone recently!

One, two, guzzle!

 

Now that round is done

We've drained our mug

Let's have one more hearty chug

Hope that I don't vomit on the rug

Fill our cups up again

 

I've kidnapped someone just today!

One, two, guzzle!

I've smuggled priceless art away!

One, two, guzzle!

 

I do black magic on the side!

One, two, guzzle!

I plan to do some regicide!

One, two, guzzle!

 

That's the end and now my mug is dry

Now it's time to say goodbye

I'm a little dizzy, wonder why?

And now the drinking song's done,

It's done!

Poetry prompt week 18: Drinking poems

3 years ago

Pluto

If not by luck then by design I find
A creaking man cocooned tight in blue
A man to whom five moons were firmly tied
When Atlas grasped him fast but faltered soon
He spun in fixed and pre-considered motion
From which wide-eyed tangent was he flung
And turned and fell, raced Icarus to the ocean
Cast loose from Mars and those he sat among
He offered me to drink and so I drank
Lest through this shivering we crack our bones
And in that night he sat there, white and blank
We traded boasts of who was more alone
Pluto is made flesh and so therefore
This man is made of stones and metaphor

Poetry prompt week 18: Drinking poems

3 years ago

Quenching Thirst

So thirsty am I, oh so thirsty I am,

Licking tiny droplets of of the little saucer-pan

Clutching my stomach, praying up above

For rain to fall to quench my thirst, and perhaps even a dove

I close my eyes, thinking I am finished,

Then pitter-patter, pitter-patter oh the sound I cannot diminish

I throw my arms up, crying with glee

 No pain down below, no longer I am thirsty