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May the Angels get their share,
And the Devils get their due,
and what's left in the barrel is made for me and you.
God bless the Brewers too.
Michael Robert Triska Copyright 2024
Budweiser is nice
With a lot of ice
As long as it's cold
As ice it'll be super nice

So just one pint of
Budweiser won't do
I'll definitely sit for a few

A sip of bliss the day’s just begun
Budweiser is my number one and
It cools my body and enlivens my soul

And live life to the fullest wild
And free so come on and drink a few pints of
Budweiser with me.
Beer 🍻🍺
May the devils have their due, and the angels get their share. Long live the home brewer of meads and brews and other godly delights that came from the yeast.
Here, here, to the dreamers that made the flavors of barley, hops, and malts.
Here, here, to the honey the fruits and maples that make the mead so sweet.
So raise your glass and tip your steines to the brewers that made life a lot more easier to shine.
Ziggy, zoggy, ziggy, zoggy, oy, oy, oy.
Copyright Michael Robert Triska 2023, A Oktoberfest speech.
Mark Wanless May 2023
beautiful woman
revolver pick up truck beer
on ice a true sight
Shevek Appleyard Dec 2022
the city is pink
the clouds are close
the sun will sink
pubs will flood
pavement splattered
with tipsy chatter
from ****** clubs
glass shattered
and mornings knackered

the strangers that find me strange
The heave of an alleyway in a drunken sway
movement
students
cocktails
drunken wails
pool cues
ques for loos
beer gardens
feeling disheartened

potions creating feeling
to disobey trust
emotions blinded
by unnecessary lust

addictive needs
swift gulps of a remedy
morning bleeds
and my head is the enemy

delaying the night to be over
as i wander slow pace
the thought of being sober
the people and the look of my face

the clouds cry as I stare at the sky
I turn down to the puddles to untangle my troubles
the endless struggle to this puzzle

the sky is grey
I run to the train
panting in dismay
at a city full of pain
in a happiness debt
that the journey might reset

I blink

I missed my train
but the city is in pink
I live to love it
I make myself think
so I head to the bar
and I buy a drink
a rose tinted city at sunset

another old old poem I dug up recently :)
Engineer Mikay Jun 2022
Pinagmamasdan ka lamang ng asawa mo
Kung papaano mo sayangin ang gabing ito
Napakasaya mo habang nilalaklak ang limang pitsel ng beer
Habang yung mga kasama mo ay walang pakialam sayo
Pinagmamasdan ka lamang ng asawa mo
Habang binibigyan ka niya ng perang pantagay mo
Huling gabi na to na kasama sila ang paalam mo
Huling gabi na sana…
Kasi pupunta ka na sa inaasam-asam **** Amerika
Minamasdan ka lamang ng asawa mo
Kung paano ka sinipa sa mukha ng Arabo
Sa laki at bigat ba naman ng sapatos nun
Basag tuloy ilong at ngipin mo
Pagmamasdan ka lamang ng asawa mo
Sa kung ano na ang mangyayari sayo?!
Bibitiw ka sa trabaho tapos ano?!
Papaopera ang makapal **** mukha?!
Ilang operasyon pa ba sa mukha ang dapat mo matikman?!
Para pagiging lasingero mo ay matigilan?!
Maawa ka naman sa asawa mo
Lahat na iniintindi dahil sa pagmamahal sayo!

Tangenang alak na yan!!! Kelan ka ba tatanda?! Huwag mo na sanang hintayin na pagmamasdan ka na lamang namin… sa burol mo!
Kagey Sage Jan 2022
I went from the "overabundance of life"
to a knight of resignation
I'm back to cheap pilsners
local Genny's, union made
Sometimes a Three Heads
when I want to get plowed
I'm trying to refine myself
into a thoughtless identity
so I may taste life again,
make music again
Did I do it all in
the grapes of my youth?
I guess I need a sommelier
for my heart cause
all I taste is river rock
where there was once native berries
and rare spices
Sparks that charmed
The dazzle of a demon
that could cover their faults
You dine or drink with thee
and you're stuck in the Fae
I'm the only one that hasn't stayed
I was woken up by a nightmare.
I woke up in the middle of the night
when I had fallen asleep
and a poem was finished.
The silence makes the painting 
in the air I breathe,
feel heavy, feel suffocating.
My throat is dry.
And on such a thirsty night,
a poem ordered an inkbox
and a piece of paper,
and I ordered a bottle of beer
and a cigarette and also a lighter,
and night ordered

itself for me.
Indonesia, 29th December 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
Paul Butters Dec 2021
Our so-called “Universe” is an erupting volcano
Spewing out gas and solid matter
To form a cosmic web
Of incandescent galaxies full of stars
Rushing away from us
Ever faster
Until we see them no more.

We tiny mice men gaze up at the sky
To make out next to nothing
Of the wider landscape
On which our universe-volcano
Sends out its plumes.

Us mice we sit, idly supping our pints of ale:
Taking a break from “shopping”
For the better half.
Blithely taking for granted
The wonder that lies above our heads.

A cosmos riddled with black holes –
Places where Time has stopped.
Where if you somehow survived
You would be frozen solid
With no knowledge that Time keeps moving
Out there beyond the Event Horizon.

If Time has stopped
How can anything exist?
How can Hawking Radiation seep out
When there simply isn’t time?

Even Brian *** doesn’t know,
As he sits and sups his pint.
None of us know.
And as my glass empties,
Just as the universe will eventually empty,
All I can say is
Let’s have another one.

Paul Butters

© PB 7\12\2021.
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