Random Guy - Stephen A. Roberts

In the pub I was approached, by some random guy
He smiled and said: "I would like to punch you, right in the eye"
I said "Hold on, I don't know you, what's the reason why?"
He said "it's nothing personal, you're just some random guy"

I waited for the moment when fists would start to fly
But persisted in my efforts to calm this angry guy
I said "Have you no friends, a shoulder on which to cry?"
He said "every mate abandoned me, I do not know for why..."

So we teamed up, became firm friends, I cannot think of why
Drinking buddies, thick as thieves, with a love of whisky 'n dry
We ran as fast as hunting dogs, under every kind of sky
Then we'd go to bars and pick a fight; with some other random guy

Stephen A. Roberts

Sitting In A Bar At the Airport - Andrew Barham

Today's poem is a "Golden Oldie" and was originally published here in October 2012

Sitting in a bar at the airport –
Moody, melancholic day-dreaming bar
Taking me away from everything
As it draws it all into perspective
Waiting to see if I shall board the next flight
Out.

Been a while since I've sat in a bar
Contemplating the meaning of life over a pint of beer
While ogling a favoured waitress,
But nowadays they're all sports bars –
That ubiquitous telly staring down at one
From every possible point of vantage
Advertising sports, endlessly …

I hate sports – thugs in gaudy uniforms
Paid ridiculous sums of money
To knock a bit of rubber
Or an inflated bladder
About with their hands or their feet
Or batter it with sticks and bats
For the entertainment
Of beer-swilling couch potatoes.
It puts one off by focussing one's attention
On something utterly ephemeral and worthless;

Been too long since I had a drink at the airport,
Yet, I remember a time when we would never dream
Of going to the airport
To board a flight or see someone off
And not have a drink while we were there …

Andrew Barham

Cocktails - Diane Scantlebury

I love the clink
I love the sound
Of cocktails when
They are making
The barman’s wiggle
Makes me giggle
When my cocktail
He is shaking

Cocktails, cocktails, cocktails
Cocktails make me happy
Cocktails make me glad
Cocktails are my salvation
When I am feeling bad

So many flavours
For me to savour
The choice will
Drive me mad
A swizzle stick
Will do the trick
To the best cocktail
I’ve ever had

Cocktails, cocktails, cocktails
Cocktails make me happy
Cocktails make me glad
Cocktails always pick me up
When I am feeling sad

Diane Scantlebury

Sitting In A Bar At the Airport - Andrew Barham

Sitting in a bar at the airport –
Moody, melancholic day-dreaming bar
Taking me away from everything
As it draws it all into perspective
Waiting to see if I shall board the next flight
Out.

Been a while since I've sat in a bar
Contemplating the meaning of life over a pint of beer
While ogling a favoured waitress,
But nowadays they're all sports bars –
That ubiquitous telly staring down at one
From every possible point of vantage
Advertising sports, endlessly …

I hate sports – thugs in gaudy uniforms
Paid ridiculous sums of money
To knock a bit of rubber
Or an inflated bladder
About with their hands or their feet
Or batter it with sticks and bats
For the entertainment
Of beer-swilling couch potatoes.
It puts one off by focussing one's attention
On something utterly ephemeral and worthless;

Been too long since I had a drink at the airport,
Yet, I remember a time when we would never dream
Of going to the airport
To board a flight or see someone off
And not have a drink while we were there …

Andrew Barham