Whisky and poetry

[marriedmalt]

Alright, I saw some pretty good poetry in one of the other threads. It has inspired me...

A drunk Canuck who went out to his shed
Slipped in a puddle and fell on his head
Some help came by quickly
But wanted his whisky
So he just slept in the puddle instead

By all means, feel free to critique...

[orange_barnet]

Alright, I saw some pretty good poetry in one of the other threads. It has inspired me...

A drunk Canuck who went out to his shed
Slipped in a puddle and fell on his head
Some help came by quickly
But wanted his whisky
So he just slept in the puddle instead

By all means, feel free to critique...

[orange_barnet]

Yesterday a fine Bladnoch I bought
What sweet sheep on the label I thought!
I've had a dram or two...
And now I feel quite blue
As my Bladnoch supply's sadly short.

[orange_barnet]

Another offering:

A FEW TOO MANY

My head it does pound
My features are frowned

My mouth feels so dry
My barnet's awry

My tongue is all tied
My brain is quite fried

My thumbs keep twitching
My skin is itching

My vision's a blur
I send up a prayer

Left eye has a tic
Oh lord I feel sick

My stomach it flips
Oh please not the s**ts

I'm in a cold sweat
I lie down and fret

The room starts to spin
What a state I'm in

I start to shiver
My limbs they quiver

My muscles all ache
They spasm, I shake

My heart beats faster
Thumping disaster

There is just one cure
To have a drop more.

[marriedmalt]

Well done!

Here's my contribution for today...


Laga-vulin, Cly-nelish, Caol Ila and Auchen-toshan,

Allt- a'Bhainne, Glen- Garioch, Te Bheg and Bunna-habhain.

Tulli-bardine, La-phroaig, An Cnoc, and then Bruich-laddich,

To pronounce these names, I check with Google, before I can order any!

[Mr Tattie Heid]

The man loved Bruichladdich,
But then he was a daddich.
The wife said, "Sam,
No more you'll dram!"
He hadn't oughta, haddich?

[orange_barnet]

Well done!

Here's my contribution for today...


Laga-vulin, Cly-nelish, Caol Ila and Auchen-toshan,

....

Impressive marriedmalt! Were you looking at your inventory when you wrote this?!

[orange_barnet]

The man loved Bruichladdich,
....

Well done, Mr Tattich! !!

[Pudge72]

Very enjoyable contributions...sadly, I am not a poet, and I know it!

[The Third Dram]

Vodka is dangerous,
Tequila more so.
And drinking red wine
Is a certain no-no.

Brandy gives headaches,
And rum is too sweet.
Eau-de-vie maybe?
But it smells just like deet.

Coolers are sickly.
Beer has too much froth.
Liqueurs taste like syrup
Made to cure a cough.

I'm craving some liquor.
So what will it be?
Let's check the cupboard,
And have a look-see.

And there's the solution,
As plain as can be...
There's nothing so tasty
As a dram of whisky!

[marriedmalt]

Nice, very nice! Glad to see a few people have joined in

Whisky whisky everywhere but not a drop to drink,
all I can find is damn Loch Dhu, so I poured it down the sink!

[marriedmalt]

Well done!

Here's my contribution for today...


Laga-vulin, Cly-nelish, Caol Ila and Auchen-toshan,

....

Impressive marriedmalt! Were you looking at your inventory when you wrote this?!

I wish! I'm still working at diversifying my whisky portfolio. I have the Lagavulin and Caol Ila, the others are still on the "wish list".

[marriedmalt]

Here's another,

I had an affair for a number of years with a Scottish lass, her name was Ellen,
I grew most fond of her the year that she turned twenty seven.
She was tall and thin with a narrow neck, and just a little round,
But also very quiet, she hardly made a sound.
She had the most beautiful skin, it was an awesome shade of amber,
It glowed so bright in the afternoon light, just like a burning ember.
She smelled of smoke and brine sometimes, the reason for that would be clear to most,
as she was from a town off Scotland's western side, along Islay's southern coast.
When we kissed she tasted like marmalade and salty spray with each embrace,
and her lips they reminded me of a silky, satin type of lace.
She could warm me up on the coldest days, with her I never felt cold,
and the more time that I spent with here, I seemed to grow ever and ever more bold.
Until one day, my wife confronted me about my torrid love affair,
I think she may have smelled Ellen on my breath, or perhaps sensed her in the air.
She told me I must get rid of Ellen, a life with her I was no longer to explore,
But I said "It's hard to find many lasses just like Ellen anymore!"
So here I sit with a coin in my hands, as my eyes are getting misty,
I'll flip it to decide once and for all, heads my wife, or tails, the whisky.

[orange_barnet]

Marriedmalt, what a poet you are!
I read your fine words with such wonder,
Your skill will make you a star,
World applause will resound like thunder.

[marriedmalt]

Marriedmalt, what a poet you are!
I read your fine words with such wonder,
Your skill will make you a star,
World applause will resound like thunder.

LOL! Without a doubt, my favorite one so far!

[marriedmalt]

I think there's something wrong with my newest bottle of whisky,
The nose is just so very weak,
When I tilt the glass it leaves barely a streak.
The nose is poor, has hardly a scent,
The palate is thin, did it even ferment?
There is no finish, it disappears in to thin air,
what's wrong with this whisky, this is just not fair.
I've been out drinking other fine drams all night,
but something with this latest one is not quite right.
I think I'll return it, it's my last resort,
Oh wait, silly me, I forgot to pull out the cork!

[orange_barnet]

There once was a sad leprechaun
'Twas because his hat drooped forlorn!
Connemara he tried
Many drams he imbibed...
And his hat was again proudly worn!!

[Pudge72]

Somebody is going to hire one of you to write copy for one of the distilleries at this rate! Great work!

[marriedmalt]

Somebody is going to hire one of you to write copy for one of the distilleries at this rate! Great work!

I'll write a limerick, or a sonnet, a free verse, or haiku,
whatever the owners of distilleries want,
to push their product through.
I can rhyme and rant, or speak from the heart,
or come up with something new,
no need to pay me monetarily, just a single dram will do.

[Mr Tattie Heid]

Be there not a poet here
who reckons meter by the ear?
Accent, meter, scansion, feet,
as much as rhyme make poems neat.
Each line as much as you are able's
s'posed to have the same syllàbles.
No excuse if you don't scan,
just because you want to fit as much into any given line as you possibly can.

[orange_barnet]

Be there not a poet here
....

I see that you are an expert
But I pray you, please don't subvert
A mere novice po-et's good fun
Of penning a naive po-em
With poor and inadequate skill
And lacking the rigour and drill
An expert like you would apply
However I can only try
To write down a snippet of rhyme
Of standard fine if not sublime.

[andyt]

A roarin' fire a quiet dram
A thocht perhaps of friends departed
What a lucky cheil I am
To teem the bottle others started

If every glass could tell a story
Man, we would be awfa' rich
A finger on the pulse o' history
Sae many ones just for the ditch

Sae many words said unremembered
Sae many phrases lost to time
But in the firegrate amber embered
Words of wisdom come to mind

So I'll sit here with my tumbler
Raise a toast to one an all
Retire to bed a wee bit humbler
Thinkin' o' you that walked so tall

[andyt]

Glenfiddich, Glenfarclas,Glenlivet, Glencadam
Talk about cadence, speak about scan
Half Cut, stoshious, fleein' and shit marack
Two drams of each and I don't give a damn.

I think I need to sober up

[orange_barnet]

A roarin' fire a quiet dram
...

What a beautiful poem, thought-provoking.

Here's another from me:

Oh get thee behind me
You bottle of whisky!
Now please don't you tempt me
To drink you some more.

You always make me smile
I know your charm and guile
Just leave me for a while
You I shall ignore.

With your elegant nose
And the way your tan glows
Thus my need for you grows
I must have you for sure.

I've succumbed to the thrill
You have broken my will
So my glass I'll now fill
And drink you some more.

[C57]

A roarin' fire a quiet dram
...

Excellent stuff Andy. It sort of works to the rhythm of Fire at Midnight (Tull).
Good stuff