Life is grain broken
Barley thrashed and pulled apart at the seams of bread and beer
On tender loving vines in a budding vineyard still
Intent on being our sustenance from the start
Such things are born at the hands of man but by the will of Gods kind heart
Beneath Heavens, From The Earth
A man's birthday only comes around once a year.
You wanted revenge because I drank your last beer.
You decided to get even by ruining my birthday.
You got even by giving me the new Doctor Who on Blu-ray.
You know that I hate the new Doctor Who, I think it's a piece of crap.
Now you've started crying like a two year old because I gave you a slap.
I loathe the new Doctor Who TV Show and I let everybody know about it.
You bought me a piece of crap for my birthday and it's making me throw a fit.
Even though I apologized for drinking your last beer, you decided to make me pay.
You had an evil grin on your face as you handed me the new Doctor Who on Blu-ray.
Everybody had to cover their ears because I said a lot of cuss words.
I burned your present because I would've rather been given a ****.
THE ONLY TRUE THING ABOUT THIS POEM IS THE FACT THAT I HATE THE NEW DOCTOR WHO TV SHOW.
Its commensal, at best,
This house fly of a guest;
Who frequents your home,
Alits on a chair,
Rubbing its hands together.
It shows no regrets,
Feeding, slurping and buzzing,
With a self-made bequest.
I can tolerate a bar fly;
A barn fly, a sty fly;
I've the guzzler bottle fly,
That plunders my fridge,
Swarms over my beer
Like a blood-thirsty midge.
He's a house fly,
So fly paper won't do.
I need SWAT to shoo
This house fly adieu.
Do you have a house fly?
You chugged down a pint of stout
Reason running in and out
Your friends cheering you on
Until all reason is completely gone
In a moment of uncertainty
You poise the possibility
Of ordering another pint of that hilarity
You get another one and a shot
You feel your head spins and you're hot
You're being cheered on by your friend-squad
Reason's leaving, but you're not
The evening just began
And you feel a certain urge to dance
Then that concludes
You get the pint again
And the reason still eludes
About the unreasonably high alcoholic consumption most folks go through at some point.
Go into town and call every Tom, Harry, and ****
tell them to bring a shamrock and come out quick
for today is saint patrick day
we won't be chasing leprechaun today
we'll be drowning the shamrock in beer like some freak
9/7/2019 © A B Faniki all right reserved a linerik for saint oatrick day
I’m definitely getting old
A drunk pathetic apathetic
Version of who I used to be
Living out of my former glory
Entertaining strangers in pubs
With some old boxing stories
In exchange for free beer
How lame is that?
"What do you want"
the will to carry on
a reason for my existence
some sort of direction
in my life
but she was only going to the shops
pizza and beer again
She waved to him
From the island of the sofa,
Surrounded by her magazines
Mobile phone screen ablaze
With her usual social media,
Attention on her mind
He, headphones on was in the zone,
So many times the trance
Had been broken,
Inner world invaded by trivialities,
Today he just turned his head away
He had perfected the perfect mix
Between beer buzz and musical bliss,
This time he was going deep
Diving, fish like into sonic waters
A Pink Floyd sea of euphoric escape
This time, she was just going to have to wait
Until he broke surface again.