The drunkard thinks of only one thing and the barman of something else.
Related quotes
What the sober man thinks the drunkard tells.
Dutch, French proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Aint No Drunkard
Baby I aint no
Drunkard I've got
Self-control
Baby I aint no
Drunkard, I'm just
Addicted to alcohol
Baby I aint no
Drunkard on alcohol
I don't depend
Alcohol is just
My best friend
Baby I aint no
Drunkard its just
That simple
Baby I don't need
No crutch
Because I aint
No cripple
poem by Dorsey Baker
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The Old Man
An aged man came into the bar from out of the cold,
he was wearing a monk’s habit as in the days of old.
‘Like death warmed up’ my mother used to say,
as he sat by the open fire on this winters day.
He never spoke, ordered a drink, or even showed his face,
he hardly moved at all and everyone gave him space.
The barman said, “You can’t sit there without buying a drink, ”
a stare of stone was the response, “okay, I’ll give you time to think.”
The place went deathly quiet as whispers could only be heard,
“Where did this monk person come from, doesn’t he look absurd? ”
The whispering stopped as the man turned and looked directly at me,
he pointed with his long skeletal finger and croaked, “You will be he.”
I gulped, and nervously asked, “What are you talking about? ”
“You’ll be leaving here with me, so let’s make our way out.”
“I’m not going anywhere, ” I said, “until I’ve finished my beer.”
“That’s fine by me, ” he said, “I’ll be waiting here.”
To humour the old man I asked where he thought we were going.
“Haven’t you figured it out yet, and by the way I’ll be doing the rowing? ”
“I’m sorry old man I’m not going anywhere, it’s much too cold outside.”
“You haven’t got it yet have you; we’re taking your last boat-ride? ”
“There are no boat-rides until spring the river’s been frozen for a week, ”
said the barman with a grin on his face that went from cheek to cheek.
“It’s not a literal boat-ride you fool it’s a journey everyone must take
and my job is to escort the travellers across the lake.”
“What is this old man on about, there are no lake’s around here,
come on everybody sup up, it’s time for another beer.”
“You are getting on my nerves barman give your mouth a rest,
or I’ll take someone with a mouth the size of his chest.”
The barman looked quite unsettled and threatened to throw him out
unless he ordered a drink, but he refused and called him a lout.
“That’s it, ” the barman said, “I’ve heard enough let’s have you outside.”
“That’s good enough for me, ” said the old man, “you’ll be taking the ride.”
At that precise moment the barman collapsed clutching his heart,
an ambulance was called and within minutes they had made a start.
The paramedics tried in vain to revive him: alas they could do no more,
but see the barman’s spirit and the old man walk through the door.
poem by Orlando Belo
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A drunkard is one thing, and a temperate man is quite another.
quote by Arthur Keith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Punch Drunk
We got to the pub, and were served our food;
Everyone, it seemed, was in a good mood.
Then, in walked a man who was really drunk;
He was refused service, so he threw a punch.
Thankfully, the barman ducked out of the way,
But he pushed the panic button straightaway.
The man was angry, and he started swearing;
At him, the customers were, very soon, staring.
From swearing, he was politely asked to refrain;
To which he answered ‘I've got a villa in Spain! ' (?)
Both customer and barman were beginning to seethe.
The Duty Manager asked the antagonist to leave.
The door of the pub, the man was shown;
Now, in every local pub, he is well-known.
From all pubs in the city, he is now banned;
I guess his day didn't turn out quite as planned!
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Chandler's the guy everybody thinks will do well with women, but he thinks too much and says the wrong thing.
quote by Matthew Perry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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London Types: Sandwich-Man
An ill March noon; the flagstones gray with dust;
An all-round east wind volleying straws and grit;
St. Martin's Steps, where every venomous gust
Lingers to buffet, or sneap, the passing cit;
And in the gutter, squelching a rotten boot,
Draped in a wrap that, modish ten-year syne,
Partners, obscene with sweat and grease and soot,
A horrible hat, that once was just as fine;
The drunkard's mouth a-wash for something drinkable,
The drunkard's eye alert for causal toppers,
The drunkard's neck stooped to a lot scarce thinkable,
A living crawling blazoning of Hot-Coppers,
He trails his mildews towards a Kingdom-Come
Compact of sausage-and-mash and two-o'rum!
poem by William Ernest Henley
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Peek-A-Boo
The cunningest thing that a baby can do
Is the very first time it plays peek-a-boo;
When it hides its pink little face in its hands,
And crows, and shows that it understands
What nurse, and mamma and papa, too,
Mean when they hide and cry, 'Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.'
Oh, what a wonderful thing it is,
When they find that baby can play like this;
And everyone listens, and thinks it true
That baby's gurgle means 'Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo';
And over and over the changes are rung
On the marvelous infant who talks so young.
I wonder if any one ever knew
A baby that never played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.
'Tis old as the hills are. I believe
Cain was taught it by Mother Eve;
For Cain was an innocent baby, too,
And I am sure he played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.
And the whole world full of the children of men,
Have all of them played that game since then.
Kings and princes and beggars, too,
Everyone has played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.
Thief and robber and ruffian bold,
The crazy tramp and the drunkard old,
All have been babies who laughed and knew
How to hide, and play peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Why do you think?
Why do you think?
Other should think the way you think
Can you think the way they think?
Everybody thinks’
His way is the right way to think
Respect what people think
The way they think
You will find people
Respecting what and how you think
Everybody has the right to think
The way he thinks’ and what he thinks’
One can only tell what he thinks’
If they like it
They will approve what you think
No regrets, no hard feelings
Nobody loses, Nobody wins
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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New Year’s Eve
Staggering homeward between the stream and the trees the unhappy
drunkard
Babbles a woeful song and babbles
The end of the world, the moon's like fired Troy in a flying
cloud, the storm
Rises again, the stream's in flood.
The moon's like the sack of Carthage, the Bastile's broken, pedlars
and empires
Still deal in luxury, men sleep in prison.
Old Saturn thinks it was better in his grandsire's time but that's
from the brittle
Arteries, it neither betters nor worsens.
(Nobody knows my love the falcon.)
It has always bristled with phantoms, always factitious, mildly absurd;
The organism, with no precipitous
Degeneration, slight imperceptible discounts of sense and faculty,
Adapts itself to the culture-medium.
(Nobody crawls to the test-tube rim,
Nobody knows my love the falcon.)
The star's on the mountain, the stream snoring in flood; the brain-lit
drunkard
Crosses midnight and stammers to bed.
The inhuman nobility of things, the ecstatic beauty, the inveterate
steadfastness
Uphold the four posts of the bed.
(Nobody knows my love the falcon.)
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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The Boy Racer
Hes just too good-natured and
Hes got too much money and
Hes got too many girlfriends
Im jealous, thats all
Have you seen him go, though, oh ?
Have you seen him go, though, oh ?
Boy racer
Boy racer, oh
Were gonna kill this pretty thing
Boy racer
Boy racer, oh
Were gonna kill this pretty thing
Hes got too many girlfriends
He thinks he owns this city
He overspeeds and he never gets pulled over
Have you seen him go, though, oh ?
Have you seen him go, though, oh ?
Boy racer
Boy racer, oh
Were gonna kill this pretty thing
Boy racer
Boy racer, oh
Were gonna kill this pretty thing
He thinks he got the whole world in his hands
Stood at the urinal
He thinks he got the whole world in his hands
And Im gonna ... kill him !
Oh, no !
Oh, no !
Oh, no !
Oh, no !
Oh, no !
Oh, no !
Oh, no !
Oh, no !
Oh, no !
Oh ....
Boy racer
Boy racer, oh
Were gonna kill this pretty thing
Boy racer
Boy racer, oh
Were gonna kill this pretty thing
Boy racer
Boy racer, oh
Were gonna kill this pretty thing
Hes just too good-looking
Hes just too good-looking
Hes just too good-looking, and
And, and ...
Boy racer
Boy racer, oh
Were gonna kill this pretty thing
Boy racer
Boy racer, oh
Were gonna kill this pretty thing
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rock Stop
Im dancing like a mad man
I hope she likes-a me
The chance to be just on my own
I wanna silly be
The club is full of people
Perhaps they think Im mad
I close my eyes and I go home
I feel a little sad
Chorus:
I just cant dance
My only chance
Im shy... shy... oh so shy
The girls dont like the way I move
I think at times Ive lost it
Do I look like I cant move
Or do I move exhausted
If I just knew she loves me
I know I wouldnt care
But she talks to the barman
And I think thats unfair
(chorus)
Im sad.. sad... oh so sad
And now that girl moves close to me
I join into her move
Pretending I enjoy it
And now I lost the groove
One guy stands tho, between us
Shows up with all his power
I now feel like an idiot
Who stands in a cold shower
(chorus)
The barman stares at me
So? so drink
Then turns around
And pours a wink
I move away
But play it cool
I think shes right
Im just a fool
(chorus)
Im shy... shy... oh so shy
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rock Stop
Im dancing like a mad man
I hope she likes-a me
The chance to be just on my own
I wanna silly be
The club is full of people
Perhaps they think Im mad
I close my eyes and I go home
I feel a little sad
Chorus:
I just cant dance
My only chance
Im shy... shy... oh so shy
The girls dont like the way I move
I think at times Ive lost it
Do I look like I cant move
Or do I move exhausted
If I just knew she loves me
I know I wouldnt care
But she talks to the barman
And I think thats unfair
(chorus)
Im sad.. sad... oh so sad
And now that girl moves close to me
I join into her move
Pretending I enjoy it
And now I lost the groove
One guy stands tho, between us
Shows up with all his power
I now feel like an idiot
Who stands in a cold shower
(chorus)
The barman stares at me
So? so drink
Then turns around
And pours a wink
I move away
But play it cool
I think shes right
Im just a fool
(chorus)
Im shy... shy... oh so shy
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A wise man writes down what he thinks, a stupid man forgets what he thinks, a complete idiot punishes himself for what he thinks.
quote by Jason Zebehazy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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However, no two people see the external world in exactly the same way. To every separate person a thing is what he thinks it is - in other words, not a thing, but a think.
quote by Penelope Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No two people see the external world in exactly the same way. To every separate person a thing is what he thinks it is -- in other words, not a thing, but a think.
quote by Penelope Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The old friends met in a quiet starlit night
He hums his unwritten song
Who's a famous drunkard in the village.
It's a quiet starlit night
And stars twinkle to his sad rhythm.
Passing the isolated graveyard nearby a stable
He stopped for a while.
And his old friend speaks from a broken tomb;
'Hey! There October Moon peeps like your innocent Auschwitz fiancee
And how the crawling life goes on chum! '
Could you please pass me a non-filter cigarette
If you have any spare one? '
He thinks on his way to the lonely Inn
That his dumb friend never smoked before.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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It's useless to try and make rhyme or reason of it, because one guy thinks one thing and the other guy sees a whole other thing. So I try not to take them too seriously. Lately I have them screened so I only read the positive ones.
quote by David Zucker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The superior man thinks of virtue; the small man thinks of comfort. The superior man thinks of the sanctions of law; the small man thinks of favors which he may receive.
quote by Confucius
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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