Poem of the Week, Vol.#46

(An old Chestnut. Reminds me of the time I spent in New Orleans)

The Irish Pig

'Twas an evening in November,

As I very well remember,

I was strolling down the street in drunken pride,

But my knees were all aflutter,

So I landed in the gutter,

And a pig came up and lay down by my side.

Yes I lay there in the gutter

Thinking thoughts I could not utter,

When a colleen passing by did softly say,

"Ye can tell a man that boozes

By the company he chooses"

-At that the pig got up and walked away.

-Anonymous (a famous Irish author)

Salad Days Vol.#28: Ode to the Green Death

Working the late shift, Friday night,

This was back in the Salad Days, 1980's

Room-mate Myk, was taking a hike,

Asked if there was something I would like,

At the Liquor Store, and just what type,

I said 'any kind, I ain't gonna gripe'

If it's your treat, it cant be bad,

Just leave it in the Fridge back at the pad,

I trust you buddy, it'll be good,

But instead of that I should,

Have said, 'Guiness, Pabst or even Bud',

'My pal', I thought, 'was not a dud',

Alas at the Pad, to my chagrin,

In the ice-box was, when I looked in,

A grisly sight to leave me bereft,

He bought me a six-pack of the ol' 'Green Death'.

Ballantine Ale, jaundiced and pale,

Unpleasant, corpulent and stale,

Nauseating bitter tonic,

Pungeant, vile and vitriolic,

Alac to think I could have drunk,

Another ale that hadn't stunk,

A Michelob, I could have had,

Or Miller High Life, like my Dad,

But because I was not specific,

I suffered consequence horrific,

Instead of amber stout so fine,

I had to choke down Ballantine.

So listen up, you young guns,

And don't repeat what I had done,

When your pal is buying beer,

Make your preferences clear,

As for me, I learned a lesson,

And never again, I am guessin',

Even if there's no Beer left,

I'll pass up on the 'Old Green Death'.

From The Old Stone Cross

William Butler Yeats (1865 - 1939)

A statesman is an easy man, he tells his lies by rote.

A journalist invents his lies, and rams them down your throat.

So stay at home and drink your beer and let the neighbors vote.

Sufferin' Bastards First Anniversary

If all be true that I do think,

There are but 5 reasons to drink:

Good Beer, good food or being dry,

Or lest ye should be, by and by,

Or any other reason why.

-H. Aldrich

'Twas the Night Befo' Christmizzle', a Holiday Poem by Snoop Dogg

Mr. Dogg is a frequent contributor to SBL#178

I know it's a bit early, but what with all the Humidity...

T'was the night befo' Christmas, and all through the Hood,

T'weren't no Pimpin', no Bangin', no, it was all good,

Now the dead bolts were hung by the front door with care,

With my Glauk by my side in my big easy chair,

Me and my Boo, and a big bag of Chronic,

We had just settled down for a nice Gin and Tonic,

When out in my front yard arose such a Clizzle,

I jumped up from my chair to see what was the Dizzle,

What did I see out in my front do',

But a fat man in red and Eight tiny Ho's,

I could tell right away that the man was a pimp,

By the clothes that he wore and how he walked with a limp,

He had gold in his grill that looked like a retainer,

I thought for a minute he was Cedric the Entertainer,

In his mouth was a crack-pipe just like Dwight Gooden,

And a belly that jiggled just like Jello Puddin',

On his head was a Kango, on his neck a Gold Rope,

I could tell right away the M***r f***r was Dope,

He blew on his Crack-pipe and the Ho's they got busy,

Laying presents on my ass until I just'bout got Dizzy,

Then he shouted out loud so his Ho's they could hear,

And he made a Peace sign and said, 'Bitches we outa here",

"On Keesha, LaTreesha, on LaWanda, on Whitney",

And some little white girl I think he called Brittany,

They got back in his Benz and they rolled out of sight,

Out in the streets of a dark Compton night,

But I heard him exclaim, the night air, it did fill,

"Merry Christmizzle to all, and to all stay well Chilled".

Seasons Greetings

" WINTER "

a poem by James M C Davis

" SHIT It's Cold ! "

Stigmata

Got a bruise on my right leg the shape of Africa

There's a water-stain on my bed room ceiling, looks like Bob Dylan

There's a coffee-stain on my yellow tee-shirt looks exactly like Abe Lincoln

Went to Canada this summer- took a picture of a waterfall-film came back from the developers and you can actually see the face from Edvard Munch's 'Scream' in the waterfall-fucking spooky!

Poured some Maple Syrup on my pancakes this morning; it spread out in the shape of Satan

You see, you see what you want to see and you hear what you want to hear:

Ain't never been to the Grand Canyon. Ain't never heard a tree fall in the Forest.

Know what I mean?

Speak roughly to your little boy,
And beat him when he sneezes;
He only does it to annoy,
Because he knows it teases.

Cho.-- Wow! wow! wow!

I speak severely to my boy,
And beat him when he sneezes:
For he can thoroughly enjoy
The pepper when ye pleases!

Cho.

Lewis Carroll

the Frivolous Cake

The Frivolous Cake

by Mervyn Peake

A freckled and frivolous cake there was
That sailed upon a pointless sea,
Or any lugubrious lake there was
In a manner emphatic and free.
How jointlessly, and how jointlessly
The frivolous cake sailed by
On the waves of the ocean that pointlessly
Threw fish to the lilac sky.

Oh, plenty and plenty of hake there was
Of a glory beyond compare,
And every conceivable make there was
Was tossed through the lilac air.

Up the smooth billows and over the crests
Of the cumbersome combers flew
The frivolous cake with a knife in the wake
Of herself and her curranty crew.
Like a swordfish grim it would bounce and skim
(This dinner knife fierce and blue])),
And the frivolous cake was filled to the brim
With the fun of her curranty crew.

Oh, plenty and plenty of hake there was
Of a glory beyond compare -
And every conceivable make there was
Was tossed through the lilac air.

Around the shores of the Elegant Isles
Where the cat-fish bask and purr
And lick their paws with adhesive smiles
And wriggle their fins of fur,
They fly and fly 'neath the lilac sky -
The frivolous cake, and the knife
Who winketh his glamorous indigo eye
In the wake of his future wife.

The crumbs blow free down the pointless sea
To the beat of a cakey heard
And the sensitive steel of the knife can feel
That love is a race apart
In the speed of the lingering light are blown
The crumbs to the hake above,
And the tropical air vibrates to the drone
Of a cake in the throes of love.

Lawn Mower Man

I got done mowing the lawn today, and evidentally one of my neighbors slipped this note under my front door

Shirtles fat guy mowing the lawn
Does all chores with no shirt on
Hairy back is angry red
NASCAR ball-cap on 'is head

Protuberant belly Bongo tight
Loafers brown, socks of white
Pabst Blue Ribbon, need some more
Drive the Yard Boss** to the Package Store

Shirtless Fat Guy, Good God Y'all
Make short grass where'n it used to be tall.

** Yard-boss is a registered trademark of Sears, I think

All Things Prophetic, Tis Whiskey Me Boys

Let your quacks and newspapers be cuttin' their capers
And curing the vapors the scratch and the gout
With their medical potions, their pills and their lotions
Upholding their notions, they're mighty put out.

Who can tell the true physic of all things prophetic
And pitch to the divil, your cramps and your pee
You'll know it I think if you take a big drink
With your mouth to the brink of a jug of whiskey

So stick to the cratur' the best thing in nature
For sinking your sorrows and raising your joys
Oh what moderation gives hope to a nation
Or brings consolation like whiskey me boys.

No liquid cosmetic to lovers athletic
Or bodies pathetic can give such a bloom
As the sweet by the powers in the garden of flowers
E'er gave their own bowers such a darling perfume

And this liquid so rare if you willingly share
To be taking your hair when it's frizzled and dead
Oh the sod has the merit to yield the true spirit
So strong it will shake all the hairs from your head

Then stick to the cratur' the best thing in nature
For sinking your sorrows and raising your joys
Oh since its perfection, no doctor's direction
Can cleanse the complexion like whiskey me boys

As a child in me cradle, me nurse with her ladle
Was filling my mouth with a notion of pap
When a drop from her bottle fell into my throttle
I stumbled and capered clean out of her lap

On the floor I lay crawlin' and screaming and bawling
'Til me mother and father were called to the fore
All sobbing and sighing they feared I was dying
But soon found I only was crying for more.

So stick to the cratur' the best thing in nature
For sinking your sorrows and raising your joys
Oh lord how they'd chuckle if babes in their truckle
They only could suckle on whiskey me boys

Through my youthful aggression, through times of depression
My childhood's impression still clung to my mind
And at school or at college the basis of knowledge
I never could gulp 'til with whiskey combined

And as older I'm growing times ever bestowin'
On Erin's potation, a flavor so fine
And how ere they may lecture on jove and his nectar
Itself is the only true liquid divine

So stick to the cratur' the best thing in nature
For sinking your sorrows and raising your joys
Oh lord, 'tis the right thing for courting and fighting
There's nowt so exciting as whiskey me boys.

Come guess me this riddle, what beats pipes and fiddle
What's hotter than mustard and milder than cream
What best wets your whistle, what's clearer than crystal
What's sweeter than honey and stronger than steam

What'll make the lame walk, what will make the dumb talk,
The elixir of life and philospher's stone
And what helped Mr. Brunel to build the Thames Tunnel
Wasn't it whiskey from ould Inishowen

So stick to the cratur' the best thing in nature
For sinking your sorrows and raising your joys
Oh lord, it's no wonder, if lightning and thunder
Weren't made from the plunder of whiskey me boys.

Ode to a Glass of Pilsner Urquell

Unequivical and Bold
Effervescent Liquid Gold
Salve for Tastebud and for Soul

Open up Your Shiny Top
Tiny Bubbles they do Pop
You're the Reason God Made Hops

So Sublime and Bittersweet
Good with Fish or Good with Meat
Sometimes Drink you with Bare-Feet

You're the Pride of Pilzn Czech
Drink you out on my Back Deck
Cash or Credit or with Check

Amber as the Autumn Sun
So sad when the Glass is Done
But in my Fridge, another one!

UP IN THE HIZZLE

'Up in the Hizzle' is a collaberation between
beloved childrens' author Theodore Geisel

and famed 'Gangsta' rapper Snoop Dogg.

Pop, Cap

Pop a Cap

Pop a Cap in the N****'s Ass

Hizzle, Dizzle

Down wit' Snizzle

Bitches in the Hot-Tub, ain't no Shizzle

Pimp, Gimp

Pimp is Gimp

Shot 'im in the Leg, now the N****'s Got a Limp

Gin, Juice

Gin and Juice

Drink me a Forty, now I'm a Moosey Goose

Ho', Go

That Ho's gotta Go

Been Holdin' out My Money, now that's Fo'sho'

(break it down,now)

1-2-3 and to the 4

Snoop Doggy Dogg and Dr. Seuss is at the door

Ready to make an entrance, so back on up

cuz' you know it's like 'Up on Pup'

Gimmethemicrophone first so I can bust like a Bubble

Compton and Seussland together, now you know you in trouble

Ain't Nothing but a G-Thang Baybay

Two Loc'd out N****s who's Craaazay(actually, one crazy n****a and one effete intelectual)

Def-Jams is the label that pays me

'Fox in Sox' make my tongue get lazy

Ain't no Shizzle, our Rhyme is Done

Thank you for a Lot of Fun

Don't Call Me Dude

You can Call me Buddy,You can Call Me Mack,You Can Call Me Bigfoot,

You Can Call Me Jack, just don't Call Me Dude
Don't You Call Me Dude
Don't Call Me dude, cause if You Do, I get's as Evil as a Man Can be.

You Can Call me the Govenor, You Can Call Me Hoss,
You Can Call Me the Commsihner, You can call me the Boss
Just don't Call Me Dude, don't call me dude
Don't dude me dude, cause if you do, I get's as evil as a man can be.

You can call me Slimmy, you can call me Red,
Call me Sir, or any name instead,
Just don't call me dude,don't you call me dude,
You call me dude, I think that's rude, n'I get's as evil as a man can be.

I ain't ridin' the range, ain't got no ten-gallon hat,
My spurs ain't janglin', I ain't wearing no chaps,
So don't call me dude, don't you ca-a-a-l me dude.
If you dude me dude, and put me in the mood,
I get's as evil as a man can be.

March Seventeen, Two -Thousand Six

"Yo' Snakes, this

is Our House"!

May those who love us, love us.

May those who don't love us, may God turn their hearts.

And if he doesn't turn their hearts, may he turn their ankles,

So we may know them coming by their limping!

Remember: Time flies like an arrow,

Fruit Flies like a banana

In the barley where thou sleepest there hides nectar clear, Which men shall know in later times as porter, ale or beer.--Anonymous

A Friend in Need is a Friend indeed,

I'm Friendly as Hell if the Drinks are Free

If all be true that I do think
There are but five reasons to drink:
Good food,
Good friends, or
Being dry, or
Lest ye should be, by and by,or
Any other reason why

Henry Aldrich

Piltdown Man Unlimited

(is it just me, or have you had it with dudes and their f***in' cell phones)


I roam these streets like a Micro-chip
You want to catch me, hit me on the hip
Got unlimited ring tones
Internet
Texting friends I ain't ever met

Unlimited weekends and after 8
You get my voice-mail
Don't get irate

I roam these streets, cell to my ear
Thin as a razor
Crystal clear

Got 'Black-Eyed-Peas' on demand
Download movies with a touch of my hand

So get off my Dizzle
Don't give me the Shizzle
Got me a 'Friends and Family' plan

I'm a Cowboy
On a steel horse I ride
I'm wanted
Dead or Alive

I'm a Piltdown Man
With unlimited bars
Homo Connectus
Got my own Nexxus

Piltdown Man
Got the power
Find my Fossil 'neath a Cellular tower.