Rubaiyat of Beer: Part 6

And from the floor the view is clear,
Seen through the shimm'ring lens of beer
     The party where we first were labeled
Drunkard, and mistook it for a friendly jeer.

The party where we were circled round
By many warm friends, then shortly found
     Their number fewer, their company
Cooler as we fell fast toward the ground.

The first glass we all raised as one
As together we all joined in the fun.
     But pleasures like rivers, tho the ends the same
From sources and by courses different run.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

Rubaiyat of Beer: Part 5

The barman produces another cup
Undismayed he wipes and turns it up
    Then fills it with golden liquid
And dun froth, more of the hearty sup.

Why eat when you can drink?
Why work when you can think?
     And when the waves are so cool, so comforting,
Why swim when  you can sink?

Mistress barley golden hair
Will take you in her tender care
     Let yourself sink to her tan
Bosom and nevermore gasp for air.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

Rubaiyat of Beer: Part 4

Life like a glass tipped by careless mistake
From the bar, the hand may make
A grab as it falls: The glass may be caught
Or it may hit the dirty floor and break

The glass whose hoppy kiss oft enjoyed
By chance slight yet impossible to avoid
Shall tumble mere seconds out of reach
And be instantly, irrevocably destroyed

Shattered sharp edges glittering wondrous bright
On so dark a floor finding so much light
Then uncaring hand, broom, and pan sweep
Them up to be put forever out of sight.

Read Part 1
Read Part 2
Read Part 3

Rubaiyat of Beer Pt. 3

See part 1 here

See part 2 here

Bedimmed by memories of absent friends
Who one by one to their separate ends
By life's dark coachman taken,
We are leavened by the light beer sends.

Each pour a thousand bubbles raises
Rising slow through translucent mazes
Reaching the top, the bubbles pop,
Their cries are clear, but the beer rephrases

Death, sorrow, and attendant pain
Into jokes so we may smile again
As summer afternoon's showers when
The golden sun pierces through the rain.

Rubaiyat of Beer Pt. 2

See part 1 here

And thus enriched, we recline like kings
At our leisure and ope a bottle that brings
Freedom from memory, fear, hope, and love:
A balm to all life's everpresent stings

That path of dalliance leads to death, you say,
It is why Hendrix and Bonham could not stay.
But what of Russell and Hayes--
What, pray, called these men away?

Whether in Lawrence or Golden,
Whether I am flush or beholden,
Let every glass be full and let us drink,
And laugh--or cry--as in days of olden.

See part 3 here

Rubaiyat of Beer Pt. 1

Wake! For the sun from its dark bed begins to rise
And placing warm bright kisses on your eyes
Bids them open that you may learn the
Little death, like you and me, also dies.

And as the light illumes the towers of glass
Wherein the wage-slaves their dull hours pass
Rather than wages let us seek
Our wealth in drunken hours to amass

The street lamps yielding to greater lantern fade
We enter the ready store to gain the aid
Of six packs and forties of liquid gold
And mere coins for this heavenly elixir trade

See part 2 here