A collection of fine poems written by:
Every Friday I feel bright yellow-
excited and alive,
energetic and carefree,
with all my friends,
we enjoy the beer.
But then come Sunday I feel another side of me,
Blue
sad and dead-like,
angry and hateful,
starting to realize why I hate Sundays,
because I cannot drink,
because of school the next day.
When I drink a cold beer I feel red-
making me happy on a hot day,
like a little boy learning to ride a bike.
On other days when I get a skunked beer I feel gray-
I turn sad because this good beer is now not good,
I am angry because of the waste of beer,
But then I just get up and get another beer.
When I sit here staring, and seeing my biggest fear,
When my fear is ice cold and my heart is lonely,
When I sit here waiting for the bartender to fill my glass,
When I torture myself with thoughts of you,
When it hurts loving something you know cannot be,
When I sit here staring and seeing my biggest fear,
Jesse J. Zerbe
Sundays Are Bad
Two Faces of Beer
Fears
Wishing I could have another beer.
As I sit here I start to yawn,
Damn where has all the beer gone?
I wish there was one left for me only.
Why did this have to happen now?
I think I'm drunk......I hit my head.....Oww!
He better hurry up or I'll kick his ass!
My heart can only take so much,
So why do I sit here and long for its touch?
Why do I feel this and make myself blue?
Loneliness in my heart that just won't go away,
Sometimes I need one to make it through the day.
Hold on......I think I gotta go pee!
Why do I put myself through this every day?
I need a beer to make all the stress go away.
That in this bar there is no beer.
Wonder how much I drank to make it go away,
I left my wallet at home how am I gonna pay?
As we sit in the house he snoops around,
looking for something, but what, I have no idea.
I drop my beer and it spills all over.
He is still wondering around the house aimlesly,
carefully manuevering between the chairs.
He finds the puddle of beer on the floor,
and starts to drink as if he never drank before.
Every drop of alcohol inside him makes him more and more unbalenced.
I've never seen him so ungraceful.
He looks up at me with that sad face
and stumbles away.
Running into the chairs he earlier dodged.
Can you believe it?
My dog is drunk!
So I am sitting here at the bar, noticing that my glass is pretty far
away from the reach of my hand. As I reach for it, it starts to mo
ve further and further away. Puzzled a tear falls from my eye. Slo
wly it runs down my cheek and falls to the floor. Looking around
I see all different types of drinks. But none are as refreshing as y
ou, oh beautiful beer. I start to run faster and it seems as if my be
er is comming closer! But it was a cruel trick. Why are you teasi
ng me beer? I cannot take it anymore. Who is doing this to me?
As I am running I start to see little beer bottles dance around my
head. All of a sudden the floor drops. I am in some sort of liquid
and my boat is a beer bottle. I taste the liquid in which I am floati
ng in. Eureaka! It's beer. I start to drink it when all of a sudden th
e liquid starts to go into this drain. I am swallowedby it. As I flo
w down the drain I awaken from my slumber. Ahh it was only a dream
© 1996 - 2006
Celebrating 10 years!! WOW
This page is a Jesse J. Zerbe Production!
The song in the background is some song from Oktoberfest.