And here's another one. Can you tell we were bitter that night? Nawww, yer kiddin'...

And although this one happened near Christmas, we must have all been pretty, well, you'll get the idea. This was truly poetry by committee, with each person present writing one line, folding it under and passing it along. Hold onto your hat, here goes...

And finally, no Society is complete without a manifesto. This is ours. It was written by Baudelaire and translated (I think) by Kelly, who left the Society for Nelson B.C.

Enivrez-Vous

Il faut être toujours ivre. Tout est là: c'est l'unique question. Pour ne pas sentire l'horrible fardeau du Temps quibrise vos épaules et vous penche vers la terre, il faut vous enivrer sans trêve.

Mais de quoi? De vin, de poésie, ou de vertu, à votre guise. Mais enivrez-vous.

Et si quelquefois, sur les marches d'un palais, sur l'herbe verte d'un fossé, dans la solitude morne de votre chambre, vous vous réveillez, l'ivresse déjà diminuée ou disparue, demandez au vent, à la vague, à l'étoile, à l'oiseau, à l'horloge, à tout ce qui fuit, à tout ce qui gémit, à tout ce qui roule, à tout ce qui chante, à tout ce qui parle, demandez quelle heure il est; et le vent, la vague, l'étoile, l'oiseau, l'horloge, vous répondront: "Il est l'heure de s'enivrer! Pour n'être pas les esclaves martyrisés du Temps, enivrez-vous; enivrez-vous sans cesse! De vin, de poésie ou de vertu, à votre guise."

- Charles Baudelaire

Get Drunk

Always be drunk. That's it! The great imperative! In order not to feel Time's horrid fardel bruise your shoulders, grinding you into the earth, get drunk and stay that way.

On what? On wine, poetry, virtue, whatever. But get drunk.

And if you sometimes happen to wake up on the porches of a palace, in the green grass of a ditch, in the dismal loneliness of your own room, your drunkenness gone or disappearing, ask the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock, ask everything that flees, everything that groans or rolls or sings, everything that speaks, ask what time it is; and the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock will answer you: "Time to get drunk! Don't be martyred slaves of Time, get drunk forever! Get drunk! Stay drunk! On wine, virtue, poetry, whatever!

- Charles Baudelaire

Who we are:

The Drunken Poets Society is an unstructured group of people that meet every Monday night between 9-9:30 pm and stay until Midnight or later at the southeast corner of the Ship and Anchor Pub, 17th Avenue & 5th Street S.W., Calgary, Alberta, Canada. We bring and read original material as well as works that we have been reading or that have influenced us. We also drink (of course) and lie about how well our careers are doing. Lately Kirk has been bringing "The Year In Poetry" so we get to read the poem of the day. It seems that November really sucked but December was a good month for poetry.

The regulars (lately) have been me (Fred Holliss) [e-mail], Kirk Miles [e-mail], Ed Clarke and George McFaul [e-mail]with spotty attendance by Marilyn Heinin, "Just" Brian, Sheri-D Wilson, Murdoch Burnett, T. Crane and others.

Membership is open and dues are simply to show up. Drinking beer is usual but not mandatory, bringing poetry is common but not mandatory, reading poetry is expected but not mandatory; indulging in conversation is pretty much mandatory. You are hereby invited to become one of the Irregulars of the Drunken Poetry Society by showing up.

- Fred Holliss, Regular

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