Dreadful Old Soak Poem by Dowell Oba

Dreadful Old Soak

Rating: 5.0


Dipsomaniac with Dutch courage
Going on a drunken spree
Usual swiller of one for the road
Wino and slave of alcoholism
Pie-eyed feller on intemperance.

Noble king and lord of the bar
From tippler class to intoxication
Inebriated by fondness for bottle
Being in cups and worse for liquor
Having had a dropp too much.

Lurching on along the street
Knocking back a couple of beers
Pissed as a newt with hangover
Fallen in a legless and paralytic state
Lost in contempt on a drunken bender.

Stoned and plastered from libations
Pub-crawler and boozer on delirium
Blotto when affected now by the horrors
With heebie-jeebies on biting on thee
Fuddled high and blinded by influence.

Hitting the bottle on usual spree
Quaffing and reeling along the street
Thick and slurred, your speech defect
Woozy and giddy comes up your headache
Taking a hair of dog that bit thee up.

Truthful feller and keeper of no secrets
With breath stinking on as though the menses
Riding on to stupor, your sloshed habit
Betting at times at one over the eight
A sot of a feller, dropping too much.

You've seen it all my dear Africa
Been on the booze and smashed
Blinded up by the influence
Pub-crawling and fallen into gutters
Pissed as a newt and swindled
Poor innocent dreadful old soak
Having had a dropp too much.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Marilyn Lott 23 October 2008

Yes, I'd say he had a dropp (trying to keep the extra p out) too much. Wow, sure does take the reader on an 'interesting' journey, Dowel, and awakening all the sensesl! A '10! ' for your Talent. Best Wishes, Marilyn

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