Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Steve Page Dec 2019
Pub poetry is a form of performance poetry consisting of the shouted word which has developed in UK urban pubs, dating back to the 1940s and 50s. Words are typically yelled over ambient haphazard rhythms which are not especially chosen for the piece of poetry, rather the poetry is performed over the generic sound of empty bottles and part filled glasses and live samples of patron conversation that will be familiar to those frequenting hostelries around the UK.

Sometimes the audience will employ call and response devices to distract the poet, such as calls of "W##k-er!', with the traditional response of "F##k-You!" before the pub poet continues with his yelled out verse, often read from the beer stained back of an overdue envelope.

The pub poet usually appears on a chair or table, surrounded by immediate family or work mates cheering him on.

Invariably inebriated, the pub poet may not appear to make any sense to the uninitiated - but once you too have availed yourself of your 4th or 5th pint, the words become clearer and easier to appreciate.

No musicality is built into pub poems and pub poets generally perform without backing music, delivering chanted speech with pronounced modulation, broken-rhythmic accentuation and dramatic, though random, stylization of gestures, often resulting in the pub poet losing balance and sustaining a head injury thereby losing consciousness and bringing the evening's entertainment to a premature, but often welcome, end.

It is often noted that many pub poets are remarkably shy and retiring when sober.
Based on 'dub poet' wiki entry.  I simply took another look through a different lens.
Proctor Ehrling Dec 2019
I know what you think
But we will still drink
We're all cases for a shrink
But we will still drink
We'll be filthy, we'll stink
But we will still drink
In our ears, constant clink
But we will still drink
We can't dance to anything
But we will still drink
Feels like a cult, this our ring
But we will still drink
Our behaviour needs a swing
But we will still drink
Our songs make no ding
But we will still drink
It's fun like it's spring
But we will still drink
Can no longer tell any drink's distinctive sting
But we will still drink
The night has taken us under its wing
But we will still drink
We've had our necks on a string
But we will still drink
We miss half our lives in a blink
But we will still drink
[thanks, J.]
My pen's out of ink
**** it, the night isn't over
Wrote this yesterday on a friend's birthday party, she also contributed the closing lines. So thanks, J., much appreciated.
B Nov 2019
i wonder how you feel
burgundy sweat upon your chin
when your hear the clink
of paper thin glass
in your ear
how do you hear
against intermost words, so crass?
am i so indistinct
when
daydream is your only meal?
ria Nov 2019
tiles feel cold against bare feet.
Tip   toeing into kitchen for water.
Find glass, reach up into cupboard.
Try not to shatter.
Reach in for i c e.
Still cold against bare feet.
Pour water, quiet, stealthy,
N i n ja l i ke.

Drink water,
Still cold against bare feet.
I c e still clinks.
Gulp  gu lp.
Down the hatch.

Put glass away.
Reach up into cupboard.
Slips cup out hand.
S h a t t e r e d.

Eyes wide.
Bare feet still cold.
Scattered i c e.

Mom wakes up.
Dad slides out too.
I hide in cup board.
Feet now warm
N i n ja l i ke.
mjad Nov 2019
i downed half the bottle
and out my words came
full throttle

i apologise
Maria Etre Nov 2019
I set down my script
and took a seat
today,
I'll be an attendee
I grew tired
of
being
mjad Oct 2019
Sip
I sat unbuckled sipping my drink looking at him
Taking in his features as the street lights go dim

His floppy blonde hair and straight white teeth
I liked what I saw, but I want what's underneath

The thoughtful comment about having a good night
A random call because I'm crossing his mind

In reality it will be over soon because school will end
We will move away and on to a new more-than-friend

I'll get a job and he will chase a dream
The only time I'll see him is when I daydream

I'll call once in a while to hear his voice
Making time to hangout won't be my choice

He will be busy with new people and video games
I'll be distracted working learning my clients names

It hasn't yet ended, but I feel the shadow of fate above
I don't want to like him, let alone start to love

Yet, I know the latter will happen only from afar
When I'm old and famous I'll write of him in my memoir

Once my kids are asking me for stories about boys
I'll slip into memories and their voices will become white noise

Thinking back to the night I sat and stared at him
All while knowing I was drowning trying to swim

As I sat unbuckled sipping my drink
I wished I had sipped enough not to think
Jules Oct 2019
I think I'll quit my job today
I think I'll stay at home today
I think I'll drink some more today
I think I'll be okay today
roumen Oct 2019
If i die ..
don't cry for me...
Just raise your glass and drink.
If i die
Don't cry ...
but don't forget me..
If i die
Don't cry ..
For kiss and smile..
If i die
Don't cry for me...
My soul is coming back ...
To be with you..
To kiss you..
To love you .
..again..
...Forever ..
My love is star
That never die....
My love is in your heart..
That never cry...
Don't cry...
...for me..
Just raise your glass..
And drink..
For love..
..That never die..
Zombie Oct 2019
I wanted to relish *****,
but WHISKEY drowned me in it.
I wish I can taste the  vodhka which I got..
Next page