Guernsey Poets

Dry January is rewarded  with pancakes and Valentines;  In leap years or other times.  So should it be   twenty-eight words or twenty-n...

My jolly fat host with your face all a-grin, Come, open the door to us, let us come in. A score of stout fellows who think it no sin If ...

Through  soft  September's  early  morning  mists I  sally  forth  in  sturdy  thorn-proof  clothes To  face  the  prickly  blackthor...

In the dreary shadows Of the snug they lurk, Haunting the establishment Without their wives, The lonely, disillusioned, disconnected, ...

Did your grape expectations wither on the vine? Were you undercut by supermarkets every single time? Or have people changed their ways -...

My father was a gamblin' man A loser all his life He sacrificed his children Made a wreckage of his wife Many men would make a sta...

So that’s why I’m on the beer this morning, Last night I had nowhere to sleep, Rough and ragged on a hard park bench, The stars and the c...

I came out the pub, a little worse for wear I left the car there, being mindful of the law I took a bus, which turned out to be fun ‘co...

It's thirsty work this poetry and I forgot to ask if it was ok to take a nip from my trusty old hip-flask I couldn't wait for t...

Nobody else I know, just loves the empties I just want the bottles, not the booze the beautiful shapes, the curves, reflections the green...

He is drowning. Little by little. Hour by hour. Day by day. He begs no witnesses Only the reflection Of the man he once knew To recog...

He wasn’t supposed to be born that way But it wasn’t something he could choose You see, his mother was a party girl And really liked the ...

Outside the Britannia pub Red faced, blue nosed he stands, A smouldering cigarette dangling From the scarred white fingers of his hand, ...

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 ...

Missing the booze, Eating out, without a doubt Not quite the same, Missing the booze, The vision blurred, Sentences slurred, Reality’s...

I don't usually wear a watch 'Cos Time is time all over All that matters is the thirst When the thirst takes over Half past fiv...

Today's poem is a "Golden Oldie" and was originally published here in July 2012 T ake us down to a grand and ancient pub ...

He does not lie in foreign fields. No unmarked grave or simple cross, in distant lands, conceals his bones. Life is this soldier’s alba...

Fragrant creatures wafting past Busy bar with harassed staff, Eyes glazed and bald pates shining Downing pints and shots Unsteady drunks...

Change the world whilst sitting on a stool, Authority on life, but everybody’s fool Sitting in the same spot every day, Always an opinion...