Friday, September 24, 2010

A poem for every pint

Photo - Taken at Brighton Beach

 Before i lose this little diary that i used to carry around on my solo one day travels in the UK, jotting down all the poems or whatever they are without judgment. Embarrassment is a small price to pay for immortality after all... :-). Having a pint alone or a coffee alone always seems good in retrospect.Actually.. pssst....i felt wonderful then.

Pub - Head of the River

Pub : Head of the River
Place : Oxford,UK

My thoughts freeze in the cold
I try to stir them up with a few drags of smoke
But the memory of me doesn’t change with time
And the smoke clears,
Making way for you..

By the Oxford Canal,
Sits the old Brit in Black
She breaks the bread in pieces
And throws them down to the Ducks and Swans
The birds have the bread with water
And she has them with some bland English tea


Youth Hostel - Poppit Sands,Cardigan,Wales

Pub : Hope and Anchor (Probably..)
Place : Poppit Sands,Cardigan,Wales

The dead are dead
The ones living are dead too
Is God feeling lonely ?

Marquez said something,
I did not understand
I wish I had learnt more than what my education taught
For eg.. Spanish ?

Yesterday is over,
Today is almost done
I shall get drunk again

Every poet,
Loves his poems.
Every drunk man,
Loves everybody

What if everything is an illusion
The only thing that would seem real,
Would be our dreams.

Bob Marley playing on the recorder,
In a pub .. in Wales.
Doesn’t sound so bad ..

We all know ,
We are acting in a play.
We all know..
Don’t we ?


Pub : .. No, this time .. was just a coffee place
Place : London

Wet street, wet feet
Coffee on the table, 1.95 Pounds

I got down at the wrong tube station
Felt like a joker.
But then, in a way,
It was the right station.
Piccadilly Circus !


Piccadilly Circus Tube Station