God has a brown voice, as soft and full as beer.
quote by Anne Sexton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
It Is Not The Beer
for the blood to boil
inside your groin
definitely it is not
the brown bottles
of SanMig beer
but the brown server
of those ice cold beer
on soft hands and
of breasts bare
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Brown Beer
Wood, food, hood, mood;
And like a very dark brown beer!
But obligate yourselves to women in marriage and,
Listen to my muse when i write.
Brown Beer,
Mean are ready to use women! !
But they fail to take up the responsibilities of their children.
Brown Beer,
And this is like the border between Mexico and California!
But try to take up the responsibilities of the children of these women.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Strong Beer
“What do you think
The bravest drink
Under the sky?”
“Strong beer,” said I.
“There’s a place for everything,
Everything, anything,
There’s a place for everything
Where it ought to be:
For a chicken, the hen’s wing;
For poison, the bee’s sting;
For almond-blossom, Spring;
A beerhouse for me.”
“There’s a prize for every one
Every one, any one,
There’s a prize for every one,
Whoever he may be:
Crags for the mountaineer,
Flags for the Fusilier,
For English poets, beer!
Strong beer for me!”
“Tell us, now, how and when
We may find the bravest men?”
“A sure test, an easy test:
Those that drink beer are the best,
Brown beer strongly brewed,
English drink and English food.”
Oh, never choose as Gideon chose
By the cold well, but rather those
Who look on beer when it is brown,
Smack their lips and gulp it down.
Leave the lads who tamely drink
With Gideon by the water brink,
But search the benches of the Plough,
The Tun, the Sun, the Spotted Cow,
For jolly rascal lads who pray,
Pewter in hand, at close of day,
“Teach me to live that I may fear
The grave as little as my beer.”
poem by Robert Graves
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shards Of Glass
Two large full brown beer bottles
drunkenly thrown up into the night sky
among the libation begging darkness
covering a path of planted planned trees
arch intersect implode
in whoosh frothing braved beer
glass shards rain down from
magical impossibly dark night sky
offering to alcoholics dream
fools paradise rain down
a heaven on earth thirst quenched
paradise craved desire fulfilled
a hell on earth glass sky
full dew point grasp beer
alcoholic river rages intoxication life
every precious dropp shards mixed denied
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chug-a-lug
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Gary likes a girls tight black pants
Larry knows he doesnt stand a chance
Carl says hurry up and order it quick
Dave gets out to chase that chick
Dennis wonders whats under the hood
A big chrome tach and it sounds real good
I go down to the root beer stand
And drink up all that I can
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Cold beer, root beer
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Brians still glued to the radio
Louies lookin out the rear window
Guys got around to orderin fries
But root beers my best buy
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Cold beer, root beer
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Cold beer, root beer
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Root beer, need another mug now
Root beer, chug-a-lug-a-lug now
Root beer, need another mug now
Root beer, chug-a-lug-a-lug now
Root beer, need another mug now
Root beer, chug-a-lug-a-lug now
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Recognize Your Voice
I recognize your voice, your cheerful laughter,
when I enter a room full of people
and even your soft steps each day
catches me with a tingle time after time,
through your beauty that flowers continually.
I recognize your voice, your cheerful laughter,
sometimes it feels as if you are waiting on me
but constantly you do astound me
and even your soft steps each day
has a kind of skipping to them
and with being in love I am stupid.
I recognize your voice, your cheerful laughter,
sometimes hear it echoing at night
although your face is disguised by the darkness
and even your soft steps each day,
but our love is not a game of force
and still continually you turn my life upside down.
I recognize your voice, your cheerful laughter
and even your soft steps each day
poem by Gert Strydom
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On Their Soft Brown Skin
It seems real that my joy is drunken:
My heart burns like peeling glass, the dogs run underneath
The overpasses and after class:
The cars motors purr, stamped by housewives, swaying in
The caesuras of their dreams,
Shopping, bearing the negligee that is hardly even there,
Like the spit of rainbows on her brown skin,
As her children come back home from school again;
And I wonder how her soft brown kisses feel on their
Soft brown skin.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Miss Ol' What's Her Name
I miss her complainin’
Makes me cry in my beer
I’m so miserable without her
It’s as if she’s still here
My pickup and coon dog
Give me a lil’ cheer
And my ma getting’ out of prison
And me drinkin’ more beer
Catchin’ some ol’ catfish
Makes me wish she were near
To clean em’ and cook em’
And bring me more beer
I miss her cute lil’ ol’ mustache
That hides the wart on her chin
I miss her high piercing voice
Tho It gets under my skin
Miss the smell of her foot fungus powder
Miss havin’ her bring me more beer
I’m so miserable without her
It’s as if she were still here
My dirty shorts and socks can just lay there
But dang! I hate getting’ my own beer
And I’m so dang miserable without her
It’s as if she were still here
So there’s one more thing to me
That’s become crystal clear
And it’s that I’ve got to teach
Ol’ Blue to fetch my beer
And there’s one more thing
That’d make me miss her less so
That’d would be to teach ol’ Blue
To play the 5 string banjo
I miss her so badly
She fills my thoughts so
Whoa! I just heard a squirrel!
Gotta git my gun (and another beer)
Gotta go!
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beauty Of A Friend
Walking on the tiny tan rocks of the sand. Looking for my brown soft horse. Running to my brown soft horse. Leaping on the back of the brown horse. Holding tight while my horse rides. Throwed the tan sand. The ocean breeze flows through my redish brownish hair. Comming closer to the forrest. I leaped off my horse. Walking close to my horse. While we enter the forrest. Moving my hand out touching the rough brown branches of the trees. Walking around the forrest. Getting losted. I'm alone sitting on the dirt. Tears falling from my face.
poem by Christina Weinke
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Dead Roses
He placed a rose in my nut-brown hair--
A deep red rose with a fragrant heart
And said: 'We'll set this day apart,
So sunny, so wondrous fair.'
His face was full of a happy light,
His voice was tender and low and sweet,
The daisies and the violets grew at our feet--
Alas, for the coming of night!
The rose is black and withered and dead!
'Tis hid in a tiny box away;
The nut-brown hair is turning to gray,
And the light of the day is fled!
The light of the beautiful day is fled,
Hush'd is the voice so sweet and low--
And I--ah, me! I loved him so--
And the daisies grow over his head!
poem by Eugene Field
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We're basically after Joe's beer money, and Joe likes his beer, so you better make sure that what you give him is at least as pleasurable to him as having his six-pack of beer would be.
quote by Jerry Pournelle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paintings are like a beer, only beer tastes good and it's hard to stop drinking beer.
quote by Billy Carter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Beer And A Shot!
a beer and a shot....
two old men sitting
on the stoop. talking...
about old times, jobs,
women, and life....
changing the strings
on a battered old Gibson...
the old dog just happy
to lie at their feet....
the sound of bacon frying,
the clatter of pots and pans....
a hawk soaring in circles
over the fields turned brown...
a couple of songs,
a few flakes of snow....
a beer and a shot,
as time draws short!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cold Beer, Women and Music
I like cold beer on a hot day
I like hot women on a cold day
I like music on a hot or cold day
I like to have cold beer in my pad
I like to have my women scantily clad
I like to have my music not bad
I like my cold beer enshrouded
I like my women endowed
I like my music loud
I like my cold beer in my right hand
I like my women tanned
I like my music close at hand
I like cold beer to unwind
I like women to dine
I like music to remind
I like cold beer with women
I like women with cold beer
I like cold beer and women with music
poem by Bill Kamen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Your Smiles And Gleaming Eyes
In your smiles and gleaming eyes
there is a land of wonder that begins
and you are mine like the winds whispering
at the blooming flowers in the garden
and on your soft lips even beer is sweet,
the voices of birds die at the sound of your voice,
while I am captured by the tunes that you sing
which brings unknown joy and tranquillity.
Now your essence is much more than memory,
while your dark eyes are still swallowing me.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Soft Things
Soft things
You want soft things
You need soft things
Youll get soft things
You register a motion
You get a helpful hint
Theres a certain way it shivers when she shakes
Her mind seemed so chaotic
Her posture was erotic
And her voice was exotic
I acted so neurotic
I thought it idiotic
Her dance was so technotic
She became hypnotic
And now Im calling out for soft things
Something soft when times get hard
And now Im calling out for soft things
When something calls you youll know what to do
You find a longer wavelength
You hear a deeper note
Its a buried treasure that she doesnt hide
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A house full of daughters is a cellar full of sour beer.
Never Met Her
I loved her
But never met her
She came in my dreams
Without makeup or cream
She was beautiful
From every angle
She had a soft voice
Full of poise
Her smile
Enough to mesmerize
Her eyes
Could keep anyone tied
Her dress
Full of grace
She went away
When the church bell
Rang faraway
I keep waiting for her
Throughout the year
Pray to god daily
Make me happy
Give me chance
To meet her at once
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Over the Banisters
Over the banisters bends a face,
Daringly sweet and beguiling.
Somebody stands in careless grace,
And watches the picture, smiling.
The light burns dim in the hall below,
Nobody sees her standing,
Saying good-night again, soft and slow,
Half way up to the landing.
Nobody only the eyes of brown,
Tender and full of meaning,
That smile on the fairest face in town,
Over the banisters leaning.
Tired and sleepy, with drooping head,
I wonder why she lingers;
Now, when the good-nights all are said,
Why somebody holds her fingers.
He holds her fingers and draws her down,
Suddenly growing bolder,
Till the loose hair drops its masses brown,
Like a mantle over his shoulder.
Over the banisters soft hands, fair,
Brush his cheeks like a feather,
And bright brown tresses and dusky hair,
Meet and mingle together.
There's a question asked, there's a swift caress,
She has flown like a bird from the hallway,
But over the banisters drops a "yes,"
That shall brighten the world for him alway.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The Voice Of Love
Scanning the land,
With her soft and alert eyes;
Searching for the 'clawed' ones
Whose thought alone chilled her spine,
With a thorough look at every side
Only after the last vestige of doubt had died;
She called him just like her mother used to,
In her soft and alert voice,
' Come my son, come....'
Protecting him from the unseen danger,
She could not risk being scared;
Because with every step she took she knew,
History would shout 'encore',
For the day when her mother made her run,
But never met her at home,
And all that she remembered of her,
Was her soft and alert voice,
' Run my daughter, run....'
She eyed her son to be sure,
But quickly focused away,
To the silent movements in the land,
To the visible unseen danger;
They were far, she could escape,
But her son was weak and slow,
And in a hurry she called to him,
In her soft and alert voice,
' Quick my son, quick....'
Faster than a bullet, swifter than the wind,
She could run and she knew that well,
But the thing she knew well the most,
Her son was weak and slow,
She had to protect him now,
He deserved no pain, was all she knew.
She turned around and fought her death,
She knew no pain, her son was safe,
And all she said while drifting to sleep,
Was in her soft and alert voice,
' Run my son, run....'
poem by Kanishk Gupta
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