This Poem was Submitted By: Mason D. Kelsey On Date: 2001-03-09 02:37:04 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Rhime of the Ancient Alcoholic

It’s an ancient Alcoholic And he sopped up wine and beer “By thy long grey beard and red, red nose Now wherefore sop up here?” “The Bridegroom’s door are waiting wide, And I’m a relative; The guest have sat, the drinks are served, Hear toasts and wine flows live.” He holds him with laconic grip “I need a drink,” quote he. “Be gone! Unhand me, old grey goat!” But soon his hand dropped free. He hides him with his aldehyde From any Wedding feast And makes him gag with baited breath The type with fish or yeast. The Wedding-Guest sat on a mound So overcome with fear; And so spoke on that alcoholic, The jest of Tom and Jeer. “The Ship was cheered, the wharf was cleared And we went to our task A load of wine rolled up in kegs And whiskey in a cask. “The sun came upon the left Out of denatured seas And he shone bright, on to the night As sailors want to be. “But now a storm-blast came, and it Was best not be where we. Hoping, we fled to some calm south But no safe place would be. “I tossed in my sleep upon a boat ‘Twas tossing in the tea I tossed on deck, and I recall I tossed too in the sea. “A barrel broke from its strong ropes And rolled about unwind, It ran into a mast, that cast, And broke a second time. “Wine, wine everywhere! And every drop to drink. Wine, wine everywhere Till lapping dried the stink. “Wine, wine everywhere And with that fatal first I drank my doom, a life’s spittoon, When that black kettle burst.  “My lust was loose, my passion caught From wine to whiskey sought, I found it out, though hidden well My shipmates soon were bought. “By time we got to solid land, Now dry ship without wine Or whiskey sallied into port Where port would wear us blind. “A pub, another, soon the gutter, Wallowing in dust Like angels fallen from great heights Desire became our must.” And with that song the man was gone. The wedding guest was sad But no wiser as he went inside And drank to make him glad.   With that, my friend, the story’s done. Immoderate or not, We all have boundaries not to cross If we would salt the sought.

Copyright © March 2001 Mason D. Kelsey

Additional Notes:
A fun parody on Coleridge's "Rhime of The Ancient Mariner" and quite a bit shorter. I wrote it a few weeks ago on a bet from a friend.


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