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    Observing the Storm from a Barstool
    Observing the Storm from a Barstool
    Observing the Storm from a Barstool
    Ebook60 pages23 minutes

    Observing the Storm from a Barstool

    By Luke Timms

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    About this ebook

    As countries go to war over religious views, children battle over team colours, families battle over everything and anything, a true drunk doesnt. Hell happily sit and wait for it all to blow over so long as the whiskey is flowing, the barmaids are busty and the songs dont turn bad.

    This is the musings of one of said booze bags in the form of something resembling poetry. You can almost smell the wine and misery.

    Fancy a laugh, sob, insight into a new world, or more bog roll? This is the book for you.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherXlibris AU
    Release dateApr 14, 2015
    ISBN9781503504639
    Observing the Storm from a Barstool

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      Book preview

      Observing the Storm from a Barstool - Luke Timms

      Observing The Storm From A Barstool

      On the edge of a cyclone

      Clouds anger the sky

      Rain hammers my cheeks

      To escape I roll into a bar

      Greeted by the glares of strangers

      And the stench of stale beer

      The storm rages around us

      No one moves or cares

      The windows rattle

      The doors buckle

      Terror runs amok outside

      But we care little here

      The outside threatens our sanctuary

      Past lovers spin in the wind

      Calling like silent Sirens

      The storm tears the roof off

      Beer mats, hats, cigarettes

      Spin uncontrollably into oblivion

      We sip, ignoring the chaos

      Until it was too late

      And we were swallowed up

      Cat Shit Mansion

      The paint on the walls, views and aspiration

      Crumble like the dehydrated wanderers limitation

      Through graveyard playgrounds

      And petty man’s selfish desires

      A thousand deserved sob stories are shared

      Through Thunderbird and dustbin fires

      The little girl shrieks at a lone stray cat

      With dirty red shoes and rags upon her back

      Her grease ridden hair

      Goes wild in October’s throw

      As the Cat Shit mansion

      Begins its feral show

      The mold coating the unwanted guards mind

      The youth who lack silver-tongued shine

      Mock the day with spite

      Loathing and scorn

      Parents cursing the day they were born

      An increasingly popular theatre that none enjoy

      A country’s respect they began to destroy

      Killing the sundown

      With silhouettes so bland

      Kill yourself, family and friends

      Before taking it’s hand

      Tattered Cape

      My body limp like a pile of unwashed clothes

      Waiting for the maid to collect and clean

      My resting eyes draw open, as a voice whispers,

      Sweeter than honey, heart warming unlike any place I’ve been

      Like the bards melody she asks another?

      I unleash a sinners grin and nod towards my glass

      Her accent smothers my ego, American, I’m sure

      Hair like the flames of seduction and eyes running from a past

      She calmly pours

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