Join the Drunk Poetry Challenge

/ January 17, 2014
We are looking forward to your alcohol related poems.

We are looking forward to your alcohol related poems.

Ladies and gentlemen, recently we stated that there are not enough alcohol related poems in this world. Soon enough we found out that some of you actually wrote some awesome ones, we just didn’t knew. We even suspect there are a lot more poems on drinking, booze, bars and hangovers that need to be shared. Therefor we start a challenge. Please send us a homemade poem and we’ll share it with the world. Or at least all our followers. And with a total of almost 4,5 million views and over 1500 followers on WordPress this weblog has quite a large audience.

Our challenge is also registered at the Blog Events from Daily Post. But you might wonder what the rules are? Well they’re not that difficult. All the poems that are being sent in will be published – with a mentioning of your (artist) name and website – as long as they have some relation to alcohol or drinking. No matter if it’s an ode to your favorite pub or drink, a poetic description of your drunkest night ever or a love letter to drinking.

You have a week time (until Saturday 25th of January) to hand in your creations. You can do this in a reply to this post or an e-mail to lordsofthedrinks@hotmail.com. It’s also allowed to hand in more than a single poem if you want. If you are searching for inspiration you might want to take a look in our poetry section. So best of luck to all of you. We are really looking forward to your creations.

Cheers,

The Lords of the Drinks

Related posts

31 thoughts on “Join the Drunk Poetry Challenge”

  2. Missin You
    Feeling the effects
    Just a little too late
    It’s been a week or so
    And everything’s been great
    But your pinky starts to shake
    Just a twinge
    Just a little
    Not something to cause immediate concern
    But something none the less
    A coldness creeps into your heart
    With the first rays of light
    You greet the day
    Just a little less enthusiastically than the day before
    But that’s ok
    You keep on truckin
    No one is happy all the time
    Everyone has ups and downs
    Everyone gets a little bummed
    Everyone has bolts of uncontrollable rage
    jealousy
    pain
    Pierce their heart without rhyme or reason
    Or is that just You?
    The doctors would call it “withdrawls”
    I call it livin

    Like

    Reply

  3. Yesss, I just pulled this from Livejournal (that is how long ago I wrote it!). If you would like, I can edit to make it more clear and resubmit. My initial intent was to only allude to DTs but i don’t mind making it more explicit

    Like

    Reply

  4. Wait, I thought most poetry –throughout the various literary periods in history–has been “drunk poetry,” in other words, influenced by the muse of intoxication.

    Like

    Reply

  5. PUB FANTASY GONE AWRY

    ***

    Here’s a tale with a smile

    of a sir with a lanky profile

    a man considered a pillar

    known to be a civic leader

    but who hid a fragile heart

    that’d been rendered all apart

    but he wore an upbeat light

    removed askance each night

    six of seven sure

    and all because of Dory

    the goddess of this story.

    *

    She was the darling of his sighs

    the lady in his Casanova eyes

    whom he’d titled with crown

    indeed with secret, guilty frown

    but she lived on sculptured lawn

    thought of him with yawns

    her troth in the valley of foregone

    yet she remained object of his songs.

    *

    And thus he lived forlorn

    eyes starstruck and spirit torn

    and each night he’d take a stroll

    where drinks of ale took their toll

    poured the bottle, feeling bold

    at cool pub, one of ancient old

    and there, the music held his gaze

    with the lovely image of her face

    melodies to swoon and sway

    wishing her ladyship to come his way.

    *

    It became a ritual dear

    year of year, with further year

    until the shadow came to land

    a lawyer placed papers in his hand

    his wife had done it on her own

    for she’d tired of being all alone.

    –

    ~ BABS

    (Stephanie Hayes Barrettt)

    Like

    Reply

  7. What I Drank:
    Amaretto and Pineapple.

    A riddle of me:

    I remember thinking backwards
    When my stories made more sense
    When lyrics came out in verse
    Instead of staggered on the fence.

    No words have you yet you scream in bars
    What ever shall you do?
    When your visions begin to dance and sway
    And reality has long since left you?

    Ode to a Toad
    You scream hey nonnie nonnie
    Repeating words like the talking butterfly
    Walking around befuddled and dumb-drunkie

    Tipping glasses and breaking plates
    No whole in the ground you’d evict
    A rightful dwarf you would make.
    With less dire needs nor self crucifix

    Still wondering the backwards game?
    Forgotten all my rhyme?
    My passion lies in things I read
    Without the reason of the time.

    Whats printed on the page
    Or in book or tombstone head
    Are things for you and I
    Lest we rest upon lasts bed.

    But lyrics voices and words of true
    remain when best they shared.
    When children sing of silly games
    And legends they have heard.

    For give me not my ramble scramble
    and mix up of different tales
    Here I am as a Kitsune
    all them tied along the rails.

    Nine of them for you and me,
    Fine breed of readers creed
    have we forgotten where I was?
    Oh yes, and to speak the deed.

    Manners manners forget them all,
    After all this you know not me
    You call to old and fiction stays
    Come dance in the rain and you will see.

    I am small to the eye
    An inch or so
    best reflected on the page
    No matter what page each phrase I know

    As “All the world is a stage!”
    From mad scientist to sultans harem
    Still no bells? My Ring-a-Ding-Ding Kid?
    A libraries pet, the book worm.

    -Cynthia Ditch

    Like

    Reply

  8. A Drinking Verse:

    So brief we live, the moon shines on,
    wherefore our ruby glasses full?
    Caressing wind, your smile’s fair,
    the rays of summer in that gaze
    when lips and wine acquaint —
    delicious melodies, sweet and faint,
    peripherals blur with night,
    as flirting jasmine fragrance
    accompanies candle light.

    Lament no more this brevity
    when eternal moments’ gained
    not through documented decades,
    but grains of hourglass’s sand.

    Like

    Reply

  12. The ancient and weathered cobblestones
    Upon which I piss tell no tales,
    From the tavern I’ve stumbled, to myself mumble
    Unshaven and scented of ale,
    On the wall sir, I lean, a drunkyard unseen,
    Spare the lonely moon’s silvery glow
    And what of me next? What curse Sir, which hex?
    I admit I’ll be damned if I know.

    Like

    Reply

  13. Beer…

    With so many flavors
    in dark or light
    you’ll find a few brands
    that tastes just right

    With kegs, draft and tap
    and even microbrew
    there’s so many choices
    try more then just a few

    An iced cold beer
    no doubt, is such a winner
    there’s even been nights
    that’s all I’ve had for dinner

    Beer loosens inhibitions
    and releases your fear
    but sometimes too much
    can make you unclear

    So drink in moderation
    when you drive and have to bail
    because they won’t serve you beer
    if you get caught and go to jail!

    Like

    Reply

  14. Pingback: Just a Bottle of Wine – Day 22 Zero to Hero | Penny Thoughts

  15. Pingback: Burns Night and a Drunk Poetry Challenge | Cogito Ergo Mum

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Gravatar
WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Cancel

Connecting to %s