Bar & Cocktail Poems

 

 

Too much work, and no vacation,
Deserves at least a small libation,
So hail! my friends, and raise your glasses,
Work's the curse of the drinking classes.

 

Starkle, starkle, little twink,
Who the hell you are I think,
I'm not under what they call
The alcofluence of incohol.
I'm not drunk as thinkle peep,
I'm just a little slort of sheep.
Tee martoonis make a guy
Fool so feelish, don't know why
Rally don't know who's me yet
The drunker I stay the longer I get
So just one more to full my cup,
I've all day sober to Sunday up.
--- Sold Cober

 

Let schoolmasters puzzle their brain,
With grammar, and nonsense, and learning,
Good liquor, I stoutly maintain,
Gives genius better discerning.

 

Our lager,
Which art in barrels,
Hallowed be thy drink.
I will be drunk,
At home as in the tavern,
Give us this day our foamy head,
And forgive us our spillages,
As we forgive those who spill against us.
And lead us not to incarceration,
But deliver us from hangovers.
For thine is the beer,
The bitter and the lager,
Forever and ever,
Barmen

 

 

Give me Champagne,
I won't complain,
If that's the best you can do,
But if you've got class,
Fill my glass,
With Oklahoma homebrew.

 

The Last Barman Poem by Tom Cruise in the 1988 film, Cocktail

I am the last barman poet,
I see America drinking the fabulous cocktails I make,
Americans getting stinky on something I stir or shake,
The Sex on the Beach, the schnapps made from peach,
The Velvet Hammer, The Alabama Slammer,
I make things with juice and froth,
The Pink Squirrel, the 3-toed Sloth,
I make drinks so sweat and snazzy,
The Iced Tea, the Kamikazi,
The Orgasm, the Death Spasm,
The Singapore Sling,
The Dingaling.
America you've just been devoted to every flavor I got,
But if you want to got loaded,
Why don't you just order a shot?
Bar is open.