March 14, 2014

Bar’s Open

I’d like to ask you all to have a drink
But payment must forsooth be forthcoming;
A rhyming couplet, limerick or worse –
You’re free to choose the format of your verse.
We’d like a crowd-sourced sonnet if we can,
Especially one that sticks it to the man.
So use your words, as parents often say,
and order drinks, ‘cos lo! it is Friday!


10 thoughts on “Bar’s Open

  1. There was a young man of Devizes
    Had drinks of different sizes
    One was so small
    It was no drink at all
    The other won several prizes.

    Pint of Kamikaze, please.

  2. Pockless…
    There was a young man called Geraint
    Who wanted to order a pint
    It was a crime
    for which there was no rhyme
    so instead, a wafer-thin mint.

  3. Full forty winters have besieged my door
    And mewling PQ cowards call me foe.
    The placid gaze that I once sweetly wore
    Is buried deep beneath the ice and snow.

    I’ll have a large spicy rum and coke please.

  4. I raise a pint
    To Tony Benn
    Bristol’s finest
    Guinea hen

    …no… wait.

    Ballpoint pen!

    That’s not right. Comedienne?

    Oh, this is too hard.

    I really wish
    Benn hadn’t died
    For rhymes with Benn
    My wit defied.

    That’s rubbish.

    A verse for Benn
    (I’m trying again)
    If only he
    Had been PM

    That’ll have to do. Mine’s a pint.

  5. There was a young woman from Chester
    Whose children did nothing but pester
    When they were in bed
    “Bring me gin”‘s what she said
    With enough I become quite the jester

  6. In honor of Pi Day, I shall write a Haiku that is 3-1-4.

    velvety smooth.

  7. A pi-ku. Genius.
    Of course, there’s also ePIc poetry, that continues infinitely.

  8. Hurrah! An excuse to air this poem by Baudelaire.

    You have to be always drunk. That’s all there is to it — it’s the only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually drunk.

    But on what? Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be drunk.

    And if sometimes, on the steps of a palace or the green grass of a ditch, in the mournful solitude of your room, you wake again, drunkenness already diminishing or gone, ask the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock, everything that is flying, everything that is groaning, everything that is rolling, everything that is singing, everything that is speaking. . .ask what time it is and wind, wave, star, bird, clock will answer you: “It is time to be drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish.”
    I’ll have a pint of poems, please. And a G&T.

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