The Blueshell Bar
From Monday through to Friday and,
For some, on the weekends too,
There’s a constant round of students here
Attacking the Chinglish stew,
They sweat on the riddle of English tense,
Of gender, of verb and noun,
But Friday nights and their teachers here
Are ready to hit the town.
In old Wenzhou, Canadians,
The Poms and the Aussies rule,
New Zealanders with their flattened vowels,
And Yanks with their godamm drawl,
The Scots are there with the Sassenachs
Their vowels like treacle glue,
‘If ye’ dinna gae doun tae the Blueshell, man,
I’ll nae hae a drink wi’ you! ’
For after a week of adjectives,
Blank faces and wo bu dongs,
They’re ready to slip their traces, and
Retreat to the restaurants,
Their prepositions are shelved at last
With a proposition or two,
Then they all go down to the Blueshell Bar
Where it huddles off Wendi Lu.
From ten o’clock to the early hours
They scramble for space at the bar,
The music’s played at a surly scream
Or drops to a sullen roar,
There’s Chinese faces as well in there,
And girls with a shapely rear,
All perched on stools with the foreign fools
While swilling the local beer.
And down the back there’s another room
Where the groups philosophise,
Over a ‘Jack’ or a Vodka, man,
They talk of their loves and lives,
And over the mumble of bleary talk
A voice rings out at the brink:
‘The world is screwed, it’s over man...
It’s time for another drink! ’
‘It’s time for another drink, ’ he says,
And slams a Tequila down,
A ‘Jack’, a Bacardi One-Five-One,
A bottle of old Tsing Dao,
‘I loved her, man, but I let her go...’
I hear as I hit the street,
And stagger home in the early hours...
‘Are you coming back? ’
‘Next week! ’
1 April 2006
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
It Will Be Another Week
another week of unbecoming
retracing genes of
great grandfathers, these vomiting
moments of our lives
what they taught perhaps
shall linger like leeches
but we like them all to leave us
so we can also
lick our own wounds without them
watching with whirlpool faces
another week of hibernation
getting to know this self like it were a stranger
knocking on my door
for a while i must accept all these
treat this stranger to a drink
vodka or rum
i may hum and make myself numb
on this mantra of manifestations
here i am
embrace me says the stranger
i have been longing to have you
and hold you tight unto my arms
let us talk
you and i.
my name is your name
and my emptiness is yours too.
let us drink to this!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friday
I live in an Ice house a
I never do dance salsa
I'm living in Jamaca
I live in an Ice Breaker
I'm living in Africa
I never do Know where a
Where I'm living but I'm living in a free fall
Whenever she goes away
Might as well be in San Jose
'Cause I never can tell where my
Where my heart's gonna spend it's time
Half of me's missing
I miss her Kissing
I don't know nothing but I know
She's coming back on Friday
She's coming back on Friday
She's coming back on Friday
She's coming back on Friday
My head is a hurricane
My mind is a touch insane
and my body can't sleep to dream
And my Eyes open up to scream
And my mouth is a thin straight line
As I'm struggling to pass the time
And my crime is that I'm living life without her
And the morning soon will come
And the days nearly almost done
And the clock says it's half past five
But the sun is still in the sky
Disorientated
Insatiated
How long I've waited but I know
She's coming back on Friday
She's coming back on Friday
She's coming back on Friday
She's coming back on Friday
song performed by by Daniel Bedingfield from Gotta Get Thru This
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Friday Mourning
Friday mourning
I'm dressed in black
Douse the houselights
I'm not coming back
For years I warned you
Through tears I told you
Friday mourning
There comes a time
A flaw that breaks
This very smug mug of mine
This dawn raid
Soon put paid to all the things
I whispered to you at night time
And I will never stand naked
In front of you, or if I do
It won't be for a long time
Look once to me, Look once to me - then look away
Look once to me, Look once to me - then look away
And when they haul me down the hall
And when they kick me down the stairs
I see the faces all lined up before me
Of teachers and of parents
And bosses, who
All share a point of view
"You are a loser"
"You are a loser"
Friday / Friday mourning
Dressed in black
I won't be coming back
Friday / Friday mourning
Dressed in black
I won't be coming back
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Party People... Friday Night
Party, people, hey, its friday night
Were gonna rock this joint until the morning light
Crowd is jumping, hey, it feels all right
Forget monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, hey, its friday night
Just another day, sitting watching the clock
Tick tock, tick tock, but it feels like its stopped
Wishing time away, pushing monday through to friday
Im dreaming of the crowd; everybodys hanging out
Soft tops down, and were pumping the sounds
I can feel the vibe as were cruising the town
I cant wait til friday comes around
When the working week is done, got my money, and now, Im gonna get
Some
Party, people, hey, its friday night
Were gonna rock this joint until the morning light
Crowd is jumping, hey, it feels all right
Forget monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, hey, its friday night
So, you all ready?
We just keep rocking on
Feeling good
Just til the break of dawn
Do what I gotta do, Ill do what they say,
But I swear that ship is coming my way
Im gonna kiss this place goodbye
Im gonna chase my destiny
Im gonna make it friday every day
When the working week is done, got my money, and now, Im gonna get
Some
Party, people, hey, its friday night
Were gonna rock this joint until the morning light
Crowd is jumping, hey, it feels all right
Forget monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, hey, its friday night
Party, people, hey, its friday night
Were gonna rock this joint until the morning light
Crowd is jumping, hey, it feels all right
Forget monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, hey, its friday night
Bring, bring, telephone rings; tell me, baby, what youre saying
I know, sometimes, its hard to take it; trust me, baby, just believe
It
Monday, I know it goes so slow; tuesday, oh, I just dont know
Wednesday drives you crazy; thursdays over, man, its friday
Party, people, hey, its friday night
Were gonna rock this joint until the morning light
Crowd is jumping, hey, it feels all right
Forget monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, hey, its friday night
song performed by by 911
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pu Tong Hua
English is simple, it flitters from the tongue,
It means what it says when all’s said and done,
No matter how we say it, stress it or declaim,
In English it always means the same, same, same!
Chinese is difficult, your ‘Pu Tong Hua’,
Is drawn in little pictures that go back so-o-o far,
And every one’s a concept, with no strict meanings
Making it impossible to delve your gleanings.
As often as I study, and try as I might,
I can’t get your xiang xing’s or qing qing’s right.
There isn’t any gender; there isn’t any tense,
So how can your past, present, future, make sense?
Then when I’ve mastered some simple Chinese
You say: ‘That’s fine – but it’s Wenzhou-nese,
Nobody in Guangzhou, Wuhan or Beijing
Would understand a pennyworth of what you’re saying! ’
Every city’s dialect differs from the main,
Canton-ese, Shanghai-nese, nothing is the same.
Beijing has its Mandarin, the old ‘Pu Tong Hua’,
But it’s not what you’ll hear in a Wenzhou bar.
So don’t look for sympathy with adjectives and pauses,
Proper nouns or pronouns, adverbial clauses,
Your cousin’s not your brother, and a ‘she’s’ not a ‘him’,
But how do I tell you in your old Mandarin?
4 April 2006
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Quiet Night With The Boys
Weekends weekends everywhere
And quite a lot to drink
The sobriety of weekdays
Is something that i think
Is balanced by those other days
When elephants seem pink
Monday was a sober day
And Tuesday too as well
Wedneday it got really hard
And Thursday felt like hell
Friday started peacefully
But then came Friday night
Which started off a weekend
Of not feeling too bright
Why do we even tolerate
Such obvious abuse
I spent three hours this morning
Just looking for my shoes
I felt quite young and sprightly
Last night at half past one
But come ten o'clock this morning
My head felt like a bomb
Had been let off right inside it
That clamouring of noise
When all it was just going to be
Was a quiet night with the boys.
poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Picasso's Last Words (Drink To Me)
The Grand Old Painter Died Last Night
His Paintings On The Wall
Before He Went He Bade Us Well
And Said Goodnight To Us All.
Drink To Me, Drink To My Health
You Know I Can't Drink Any More
Drink To Me, Drink To My Health
You Know I Can't Drink Any More
3 O'clock In The Morning
I'm Getting Ready For Bed
It Came Without A Warning
But I'll Be Waiting For You Baby
I'll Be Waiting For You There
So Drink To Me Drink To My Health
You Know I Can't Drink Any More
Drink To Me Drink To My Health
You Know I Can't Drink Any More
Jet... Drink To Me
Drink To Me... Ho Hey Ho
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do the Dead Know what Time It Is?
The old guy put down his beer.
Son, he said,
(and a girl came over to the table where we were:
asked us by Jack Christ to buy her a drink.)
Son, I am going to tell you something
The like of which nobody was ever told.
(and the girl said, I've got nothing on tonight;
how about you and me going to your place?)
I am going to tell you the story of my mother's
Meeting with God.
(and I whispered to the girl: I don't have a room,
but maybe...)
She walked up to where the top of the world is
And He came right up to her and said
So at last you've come home.
(but maybe what?
I thought I'd like to stay here and talk to you.)
My mother started to cry and God
Put His arms around her.
(about what?
Oh, just talk...we'll find something.)
She said it was like a fog coming over her face
And light was everywhere and a soft voice saying
You can stop crying now.
(what can we talk about that will take all night?
and I said that I didn't know.)
You can stop crying now.
poem by Kenneth Patchen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Monday Thru Friday
Five days a week Im just a-biding my time.
Fill in the hours till the weekends mine.
All day long Ive got my radio on.
Keeps me going till my work is done.
Chorus:
Monday through to friday.
Nothing goes my way.
Just working staying alive.
Monday.through to sunday.
Theres only one day.
Saturday is rocknroll time.
Work for the man just to get my pay.
Too many hours in the workig day.
Dead on my feet but I need the cash.
Roll on saturday make it fast.
Chorus: repeated
I pay my dues to the union man.
Dont get too heavy.thats the way I am.
I live for rocknroll and saturday night.
I hear the music and I feel alright.feel alright.
Chorus: repeated
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Monday Morning Coffee
Most people don't look forward to Monday mornings...
I do.
It's the start of something new...
It's a clean slate
I like my Monday morning ritual
I wake up extra early.
Well,
It's early for me.
I get ready for work.
Hopeful,
That it will be a pretty good week.
I go to my favorite doughnut shop.
It really is owned by a mom and a pop...
I walk in at 6: 30
Two smiling faces greet me
She always says a 'good morning'
And,
He's either whistling or singing to the doughnuts...
Maybe that's why they're so extra sweet
An extra tasty treat.
I don't even have to ask anymore
An extra large coffee waits for me
And a
Perfect
Cloud
Melt in your mouth
Beautiful in it's simplicity
Glazed Doughnut
Friendly faces and a delicious treat
It's a great way for me to start my week..
On the corner of Chino Ave and Peyton Street
My Monday morning
Look forward to it treat.
poem by Rabia Minhas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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7 Days
VERSE 1:
I'm in love with my man but it seems like everyone always asks me
How is it that we can work out
We got the type of ghetto love
We fuss and fight then we make up
I guess that's what it's all about
CUz time and time I tried to leave but
For him I get weak, I just can't let him go
And even though he gets to me
Seven days a week
We just can't get enough
And that's why
CHORUS:
On Monday we'll be breaking up
On Tuesday we'll be making up
Wednesday we'll be making love
On Thursday it just sleep all day
On Friday I give you room to play
Saturday, Sunday I just can't stay away
VERSE 2:
I just can't spend a day without him, sometimes my girls trip about it
But I don't care what they have to say
See, he don't have to buy me roses
He loves me and knows how to show it
He turns me on in every way
Day by day it seems to be that for him I get weak
I just can't let him go
And it's not that hard to see that
Seven days a week
We just can't get enough
And that's why
(CHORUS)
It's so hard for everyone to see I love him and he loves me
Seven days a week
I'm so down for him and
He's so down for me and
That's how we're gonna be
(On Sunday - Monday - Tuesday - Wednesday - Thurdsay - Friday - Saturday)
It's gonna be; yeah
(REPEAT CHORUS 3x)
song performed by by Christina Milian
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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End Of The Week
I get out of work
And then I throw away all of my cares
I get out of work
And then I wash the week out my hair
Monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday
Its hard as could be
But by old friday evening
Were free, were free, were free
End of the week
The weekend started
Been working so hard to play
End of the week
Its time to party
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Youre tasting freedom
No one to push you around
End of the week
And life has a reason
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Street are alive
You know everybodys going somewhere
You put on the slide
You gotta beat the crowd just everywhere
And all the music all the dancing
Get you so high
And all that sweet romancing
Oh my, oh my, oh my
End of the week
The weekend started
Working so hard to play
End of the week
Its time to party
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Feels good now
Feels good now
End of the week
End of the week
Its real good now
Real good now
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Do You Talk To Girls
Well Im sick of hanging out on the street
Every saturday night with the boys
Listening to the radios big beat
We crank it just to hear the noise
Yeah we talk about the girls, girls, girls
And we talk, talk, talk all night
Sure were all romeos and casanovas
But we cant seem to get it right
Seems Im making it harder and harder
While everybody else is doing well
I get confused by their bodies
I get tangled in their curls
How do you talk to girls
How do you talk to girls
Whats a poor boy to do
Tell me how do you talk to girls?
How do you talk to girls?
I see this girl over there right away
Im trying to think of something to say
Well I think Ill have one more drink
Ill be ready to make my play
But this guy moves in and he talks to her
And she nods her head
Well Im used to missing out on the girl
But I want to know what he said
Seems Im making it harder and harder
While everybody else is doing well
I get confused by their bodies
I get tangled in their curls
How do you talk to girls?
How do you talk to girls?
Whats a poor boy to do
Im tangled up in their curls
How do you talk to girls?
How do you talk to girls?
Out of wisdom and out of pearls
Tell me how do you talk to girls
Am I stupid or misunderstood
Id say something clever if I only could
Were only ten feet apart
But it feels like the world
How do you talk to girls?
How do you talk to girls?
Out of wisdom and out of pearls
Tell me how do you talk to girls
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Monday Comes Around
Friday, Monday, comes around
She's a girl with the weight of the world on her big brown eyes
She's a girl who's been talking to herself to apologize
She'll never do it again she promised
But then she hasn't been all that honest
Can she trust herself to be herself
Or is she talking to herself again
Hey Friday what you gonna do now
When Monday comes around
Hey Friday what you gonna do now
When Monday comes around
When Monday comes around
Come around, when Monday comes around
Monday comes wondering where do you run to find a second start
Where do you go when you're broke and alone and Friday falls apart
Yeah, yeah
All these questions are leaving her shaking
Can you be two girls in one
Can your heart bend this much without breaking
You know that you know and you can never have it both ways
Hey Friday what you gonna do now
When Monday comes around
Hey Friday what you gonna do now
When Monday comes around
When Monday comes around
Come around, when Monday comes around
Come around, when Monday comes around
Come around, when Monday comes around
Don't take it easy
Don't take it easy
Who says somebody's giving and taking, giving and taking
Everybody's taking away
(Monday comes around...)
Friday, Monday, comes around...
song performed by by Switchfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Before I forget...
The China stint is over,
There’s only a week to go,
I packed up a box of souvenirs
And trudged to the ‘you zheng ju’,
They cost me an arm and leg to send
By ‘shui lu lu xin jian, ’
I just have to pack a suitcase now,
Say ‘ron’ to a special friend.
The apartment’s almost empty,
It looks quite bare, forlorn,
As bare as the heart I gave to them
The people of old Zhejiang,
Their lives will go on without me now
As I head to the ‘Fei ji chang, ’
But I take my memories, every one
To the land where I come from.
The children dancing at ‘Dou Mei Li, ’
At the end of Wendi Lu,
The neon signs, the disco bars
And the Chimp from the Wenzhou Zoo,
The rat-tat-chatter of Chinese girls
The smiles from a Chinese cop,
The crazy lady at Ming Hang Lu
At the ‘I am your friend’-ly shop.
The buses rattling by non-stop
That take you to who knows where,
The moonlight rides in a trike, red top,
The crazies that drive ‘Jiao Che’s’,
All this I’ll remember while travelling home,
Then back to my life before,
But many a Chinese Moon will wane
Before I forget Zhong guo!
(Glossary and Pronunciation:
you zheng ju (Yo jung jew) – the Post Office
Shui lu lu xin jian (Shway loo loo shin jen) – Surface Mail
ron – Aussie expression – ‘Catch ya late(r on) .
Zhejiang (Ger –as in Germany – jang) – A Chinese Province.
Fei ji chang (Fay gee chang) – airport.
Dou mei li (Doe may lee) – Do&Me – Chicken place like KFC
Wendi Lu (Wendy Loo) – Wendi Street.
Ming Hang Lu (Meen Haang Loo) – Ming Hang Street.
‘I am your friend’ is the one English phrase known by this lady.
Jiao Che (Jow – as in ouch – Tchur) – Taxi
Zhong guo (Jong gwor) – China.
26 June 2006
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friday At Five
(jimmy stewart/george teren)
Got some cash in my pocket
And its burning a hole
Got the boss on my back
And its getting real old
This weeks been hell
But Ill party it out of my mind
From friday at five
Till sunday at closing time
Aint a punching no clock
Aint a making no plans
Need a girl on my arm
And a beer in my hands
Im tight as drum
But Im gonna cut loose and unwind
From friday at five
Till sunday at closing time
Got some pretty little women waiting on me
To shake up this sleepy old town
Thats one job I take seriously
I wouldnt dream of letting them down
Got a call from my ex
And shes asking for more
Im late with the rent
And the wolfs at the door
But thats gonna be
The furthest thing from my mind
From friday at five
Till sunday at closing time
Got some pretty little women waiting on me
To shake up this sleepy old town
Thats one job I take seriously
I wouldnt dream of letting them down
It might take me all week
To get back on my feet
But I know Ill be alright
From friday at five
Till sunday at closing time
From friday at five
Till sunday at closing time
song performed by by John Michael Montgomery
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Face With No Future
I look in the mirror,
and what do I see?
A face with no future,
stares out at me.
On the table, a glass and a bottle,
of my favourite poison.
When I was young,
I drank to be alive.
Now all I do,
is drink to survive.
My eyes bloodshot,
filled with vacant stare.
My face goes unshaven,
but what do I care?
My bottle is now empty,
quickly replace with one full.
Soon it will be empty,
just like this fool.
Family and friends fled.
My eyes were blind.
All they could see,
was another drink,
in front of me.
My legs get unsteady.
I stagger instead of walk.
A bottle wrapped in paper,
gripped tightly by my hand.
My clothes grow dirty,
as days and nights combine.
A smile is frozen,
on this face of mine.
My arm flex out,
when I stumble to the ground.
Faces look down at me,
expressions display my waste.
I just hold my smile,
as I lay there in their midst.
At least my bottle,
didn’t break,
on my fall from grace.
Time for another drink,
raise bottle to my lips.
Liquid trickles down my throat,
and still my smile remains,
as silly as it can be.
The faces disappear.
Everyone has gone now.
Like family and friends,
they all desert.
I lay there on my own.
For no one wants to take,
a drunk home.
25 Jan 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On The Street Of Regret
In a bar, a lonely person sits
trying to drink their troubles away.
Some are there for lost loves
others for the loss of someone
very dear to them
and some just gather for the company
to help pass the time away.
Some are depressed
at the way life has gone
and the bottle seems the only solution
to right that every wrong.
They all gather in the bar on the street of regret
and drink away the hours
hoping the world to forget.
20 June 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Round Table
we have this round table
and we put all our hands
on it when we eat and
drink and just talk for
hours and hours and
listen. And we ask what
is happening: Karding
broke a leg and Delia
is looking for the money.
Always it is the money.
Always she is short of
the money. And there
were jewelries hanging
on her neck and arms
and fingers, and we all
ask at this round table:
what is happening?
Nothing, don't mind at
all, this is just a part of
the round table, some
wine glass that broke
and must be swept at
once. We keep away the
sound of a crying pig.
We eat pigs here at this
round table. Then we shifted
the talk about our dead
parents. We pray. We
remember we keep on
saying this. We finish eating
the pig. We drink a very
cold water. Our throats
are irritated and we step
out of the room wanting
to pull away our tongues.
when we come back the
round table is empty.
and we laugh about a
joke that we remember.
our childhood games
the river, and the boat
that father made for us.
we turn off the tv and we
begin to talk about the
beautiful flowers in mother's
old garden, the secret one.
we agree. we miss it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dynamite
(r. stewart/a. taylor)
Oh, look out baby!
I got a stupid little job
Its driving me insane
With those keyhole people
All they do is complain
About the tattoo on my arm
The ring in my ear
But I dont even care, no no
I just live through the week
And when I see them boys
You know their two-tone suits
Theyre all unimportants
If you need a set of hubcaps
Or a car painted
Girl, why dont you follow me
Its dynamite on friday night
Under the big city lights
Its all right, all right
Yeah dynamite on friday night
Under the big city lights
Its all right, all right
Play some sweet guitar, yeah
Well we meet on the corner
And we talk all night
About our wealth situation
At a rockn roll dive
We dont reach no conclusion
So the conversation turns to wise girls
And more pearls
I got a beat up old mustang
And I painted it black
Theres five in the front seat
And the rest in the back
Cruise up and down sunset
And watch all the jailbait roll by
Yeah its dynamite on friday night
Under the big city lights
Its all right, all right
Yeah yeah, its dynamite on friday night
Under the big city lights
Its all right, its all right
All right, all right, all right
All right
Are you ready baby, bring it on down now
Watch it, well, well, well
Listen, one of these days
And it wont be long
Gonna hear that radio
Playing my song
Ill be the darling of masses
No great pretender, not me, yeah yeah
Cause I can play this guitar
Hangin round my neck
Im in love with its power
I believe in its strength
I got a head full of ideas
Its driving me insane
But until then
Its dynamite on friday night
Under the big city lights
Its all right, all right
Yeah dynamite on friday night
Under the big city lights
All right, all right, one time
Its dynamite, oh yes its dynamite
Its just dynamite on friday night
Its dynamite, its on friday night
Oh friday night
Its all right, all right, wired
Its dynamite on friday night
Under the big city lights
Its all right, all right
All together ...
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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