National Limerick Day is May 12, which commemorates the birthday of Edward Lear. Lear wrote the Book of Nonsense, one of the earliest collections of limerick poetry and with it and later works he’s the person who probably did more to popularize the form than anyone else. Here’s one by Lear where he mentions beer.
There was an Old Man with an owl,
Who continued to bother and howl;
He sate on a rail,
And imbibed bitter ale,
Which refreshed that Old Man and his owl.
— Edward Lear, Book of Nonsense #98
So for my 16th Top 10 list I presented the Top 10 Beer Limericks, but the reality that I discovered is that there are many, many more limericks about beer and drinking. So here’s a page of beer limericks, in alphabetical order by title, that I’ll continue to update as I discover them or people send me new ones. Enjoy!
Abbey Ale by Nitelaf
Abbey ale’s what we brew here, we Trappists.
(We’re in Belgium, for all of you mappists.)
Strong and rich, full in body;
As sweet as a toddy.
I’m glad that we’re brewers, not frappists.
Ale by sigg
Add barley and hops to a kettle
And quality water. Don’t settle!
On top, yeast’s fermenting
(With adequate venting)
And brewing an ale of fine fettle.
Alpha Acids by Nitelaf
Alpha acids give lagers their chops;
They let pilsners pull out all the stops.
Take a moment and think
Of your favorite drink…
They’re the bittering agent in hops.
Barleywine by Nitelaf
Hail to barleywine, beverage divine!
‘Tis the grain, not the grape, ’twill define
This thrice-potent beer
Brewed for midwinter cheer…
I’ll opine that this “wine” I’d enshrine!
A Beer Belly Collection
I wasn’t at all a hard decision
That with millimeter precision
I removed the crown
And poured the Beer down;
A belly beer-collection addition.
The Beer Cow
There was an old farmer named Lear,
Who possessed a fine cow that gave beer.
Budweiser or Schlitz,
Could be tapped from her teats,
And pretzels came out of the rear.
A Beer Drinker Through and Through
I’m a beer drinker through and through;
I like bocks and ales and home brew.
My good buddy-weiser
Gives in to the Kaiser,
With a stein full of frauleins or two.
Beer Makes Us Love It
It only required one touch
For Beer to make us love it in such
A wonderful way,
We want it, and we want it much!
Beer Saves The Day
It took seconds before ’twas okay,
From A to Z — all the way,
Feeling fresh and alright,
Shining bright as a light.
Once again Beer had saved the day.
Belief, Believe by mephistopheles
Every man has beliefs he holds dear,
Where his faith is unshakably clear.
My belief is devout,
With no shadow of doubt:
I believe that I’ll order more beer.
The Better You Think
Said a guy who liked to drink beer,
“To me it is perfectly clear.
The more suds you drink,
The better you think!”
And then he fell on his ear.
Bitter by Chris Doyle
When you’re down ’cause a confidant fails you,
Or your bitterest enemy nails you,
Drain a blackjack of bitter,
And don’t be a quitter!
(I’m told that it’s good for what ales you.)
A Blue Ribbon
I knew that I would be ad libbin’;
My buddies all thought I was kiddin’.
Used old malt I could find;
And old hops off the vine.
And you know, I won a blue ribbon!
While brewing at home one fine Sunday,
Watched over by Brewmaster Bundy.
He said without haste,
“Hey! That’s water you waste,
And they’re dying of thirst in Barundi!”
There was a fat bastard called Buddha
Who weighed thirty stone though he coulda
Laid off the lard,
And ale by the yard,
Like a proper divine being shoulda.
Budweiser, Budvar, Czechvar by Nitelaf
A Bohemian brewer’s advisor
Cried, “This pilsner is fit for a Kaiser!”
But then Anheuser-Busch
Gave their lawyers a push…
Now they’re Czechvar—they’re older Budweiser.
Cask Ale, Cask Beer by bestswanbird
Real ale is a wonderful thing;
Not lager, for that doesn’t bring
The depth and the flavour
That beer drinkers savour:
Choose cask, pull a pump, not a ring!
A Cold Bottle of Ale
Oh my God, my face is all pale;
Like zero on a 1 to 10 scale.
All sick and obscure
Can I ever find a cure?
Of course — a cold bottle of ale!
Now don’t get me wrong, we all know
There are millions who’ll say they will go
With dark beer and ale,
A bitter or pale,
I drinks what I drinks, then I crow.
Dead Fish and Mud
I’ve heard that the so-called “Beer” Bud
Is made using dead fish and mud;
They find ingredients
In the shitty sediments
Where Missouri’s delivered a flood.
Deliciously Wonderful Beer by RGiskard
What is hoppy and brings us good cheer?
Not a froggy, I promise, my dear!
It’s brown, black and tan,
And can come in a can.
It’s deliciously wonderful beer!
It is useless for people to seek
A pisser like Dribblepuss Beek:
He’ll sit for a year,
Drinking oceans of beer,
Then knock off and piss for a week.
The famously brave Avatar
Went down to the pub for a jar.
After seven were downed,
He smiled, then he frowned,
As the eighth made him barf on the bar.
Falling Off the Wagon
A tippler who’d sworn he’d stopped drinking,
Passed a bar and, hearing glass clinking,
Upended a flagon,
Then fell off the wagon,
And into the gutter dropped, stinking.
The Foam Ranger
A young lad named Armisted Auger,
Favored copious foam on his lager.
To the barmaid he said,
“Give me plenty of head,”
So she karated his schwagger.
A Girl Named Anheuser
There once was a girl named Anheuser,
who said that no man could surprise her.
But Pabst took a chance,
found the Schlitz in her pants,
and now she is sadder Budweiser.
On the counter it stood — the glass
With a shiny colour like brass.
It was beer, indeed,
And I grabbed it in greed;
Such a chance I could not let pass.
A bibulous fellow named Gooch,
As he thought he drank far too much hooch,
Decided to try
To cut down on it by
Drinking no more that what he could mooch.
Guinness that dark bitter brew,
Quite as smooth and as creamy as you;
But too many I fear,
Causes droop of my spear,
And that leaves me unable to screw.
A Guy Named Mudd
There once was a guy named Mudd,
Who really liked to drink Bud.
He drank about ten,
With his porcelain friend,
And then said goodnight with a thud.
Hard Head Fred
A brewery worker named Fred
Had a barrel fall onto his head.
“Weren’t you hurt?” I did ask,
“Being hit by that cask?”
“I was lucky — ’twas light ale,” he said.
A homebrewer always partakes
Of whatever the new brewer makes.
And he’ll offer advice,
When the beer’s not that nice,
But drinks up, if it’s got what it takes.
Can’t wait ’til next hop crop is due,
So another new potion I’ll stew,
That will match or exceed
All the flavors, indeed,
That a hophead expects in his brew.
The House of Pleasure
I entered this house of pleasure,
And right away I could measure
The Beer in the air;
Never causing despair,
I had found a wonderful treasure.
I Drink Therefore
One day a real man of good cheer
Asked Descartes if he’d like a beer.
What the man got
Was ‘I think not’;
As he watched Descartes disappear.
I’ll Have Them All
“A Beer? — a big one or small?”
The ‘tender said from his stall,
“Or medium, which size? —
Choose accurate and wise!”
“Oh sod it!” I said, “I’ll have them all!”
I Made A Fine Brew
At one time I made a fine brew,
That was crafted with hops that I grew.
The taste was intense,
With a strong resin sense,
And malt flavor pervading all through.
A jolly old tippler named Charlie,
Engaged in a pub in a parley,
With a wink said, “I think
That your drink’s turning pink;
A sign of inferior barley.”
Jack Spratt’s Wife
There was a young girl, Marie Spratt,
At work one day, fell in a vat.
Before she was dragged out
She had drunk so much stout,
That her parts that were thin, became fat.
June 2nd by Tim Alborn
As from Monday, the second of June,
When the clock in my bedroom says noon,
I will stop drinking beer
For the rest of the year
(Or until I go near a saloon).
A Kirin Delivery Van
A teacher on post in Japan
Was arrested for tilting a can
Of American beer
While standing too near
To a Kirin delivery van.
A Lot of Beer
Oh Beer, thou drink of the gods,
Have pity on us poor sods.
Like bees to a flower,
Give us the power;
In quantities best known as “LOTS”.
The hero of every home brewer,
Is a Frenchman that’s known as Pasteur.
His knowledge of bugs
Has improved many mugs
Of old ale, with the taste of a sewer.
A Lovely Surprise
A barmaid with pretty blue eyes,
Pulled pints much more often than guys.
Then a brewer called Bass
Caught sight of the lass,
And gave her a lovely surprise.
A Man From North Platte
There once was a man from North Platte,
Who fell in a brewery vat.
He drank it all dry
Without getting high,
And asked where the men’s room was at.
His wife almost bankrupted Meyerbeer
With daily requests that he buy her beer;
And when ready to die
She so feared to be dry,
She insisted a keg be placed nigh her here.
Minus A Head
It’s a terrible thing to be dead
Or sleep all alone in a bed;
But next to it, Lad,
There is nothing so sad
As a beer which is minus a head.
The Monks of Manuller
Some merry old monks of Manuller,
Found life was becoming much duller.
They brewed a fine ale
In a massive big pail,
And they found their lives were much fuller.
Much Better Than Gin
Oh, Beer, much better than gin;
For a few drops I’d kill and I’d sin.
And for a whole glass,
I’d light his ass,
And blow up the world with a grin.
My boyfriend let me tell you about
He brews beer all the time, such as stout,
IPA, bock and porter
If I had a quarter
I’d be rich, for each batch he turned out.
When by alcohol I’m intoxicated
And my normal functions too degraded
When I lay, then, my head
On my pillow in bed,
I feel lucky ’cause so far I’ve made it.
A frustrated brewer named Jacques,
Drowned himself in a barrel of Bock.
Grieved his friends, “Sad, it’s true,
Though this flavor is new,
But the next batch, let’s take off his socks.”
Not On the Menu
There once was a girl named Tristan
Whose beer that she ordered was was pissed in
She said ‘I don’t think,’
As she spit out her drink,
‘On the menu that this one was listed.’
A forty of Old English Ale
Will make you quiver and pale.
Its taste is obscene,
You’ll swear off that piss without fail.
Old Hampster Hog
I’m sorry, you’ve just raised a fog
In the mind of this old Hampster hog,
Who likes drinks for real men
Like “Old Speckled Hen”.
Budweiser! Is that not a dog?
The Old Pro, Michael Jackson
If it’s homebrew that you want the facts on,
Consult the old pro, Michael Jackson.
The price would be steeper,
But he’d make it cheaper,
The six packs we pay the sin tax on.
A vision of loveliness fair,
I’m quite certain I see over there.
Is it Ulla or Carole?
Oh no! It’s a barrel
Of Old Thumper Ale, I declare.
On Patty’s Day, there’s Sean O’Malley
Guzzling Guinness alone in an alley.
How much can he drink
I really can’t think,
And O’Malley, he never keeps tally.
Then that is the time you say no,
That’s enough of the beer or Bordeaux;
And in future take care
To be fully aware
Of how much you can drink in one go.
What made the Egyptians revere
Osiris and claim he was peer
To the gods of the land
Was that, unlike that other band,
He’d instructed them how to make beer.
An Irishman, Paddy O’Fleer,
Fell into a large vat of beer.
They rescued him twice
And once more for thrice;
He pissed nothing but Bud for a year.
A Pitcher of Beer
There once was a pitcher of beer;
It won’t be abandoned—don’t fear.
It shall soon meet the throats
Of three crusty old goats,
Who are bursting with thirst and good cheer.
Pity the Innkeeper’s Plight
Oh pity the innkeeper’s plight
When his customers, night after night,
Order only pale brew
And brown ale eschew —
For his dark is much worse than his lite.
Now federal law in all states —
If you’re planning to drive, hike or skate,
Don’t exit your revel
With alcohol level,
On the north side of oh-point-oh-eight.
Quaff A Few Beers
I admit I am of great years,
But let me confess to you dears,
I have as much fun now
Because I now know how
To enjoy and to quaff a few beers.
Red Riding Hood
So he set off in search of his tale;
Convinced of his task, he’d not fail.
Three pigs would be good,
But Red Riding Hood
Would he like for his dinner (with ale).
Rosy and Cozy
There was an old woman named Josie
Whose cheeks were just like a red posy.
At a pub that was near
She quaffed both gin and beer,
And that’s how she kept rosy and cozy.
A Salty Tear
One day my mouth felt so dry
And I thought I was about to die.
Then I saw the word “Beer”,
And one salty tear
Of happiness escaped from my eye.
Not far from London’s Lane Drury
There stood a beer and ale brewery.
And nearby, a short hop,
Was a fine hooking shop,
But the drinkers all called it a screwery.
A brewery worker named Lee
Drowned in a vat of brewski.
I regretfully say
He’d not drowned right away;
He climbed out five time just to pee.
A stout is the best of the breed,
Of the dark beers that sustain one in need.
It imparts a warm feeling,
But sets the mind reeling,
If too many are quaffed without heed.
Sucking Down English Beer
For awhile, I will not be here;
I’ll be off sucking down English beer
In the land of the Bard.
Hope I find something hard;
If I do you’ll all hear me cheer.
Sven From Sweden
A fellow from Sweden named Sven
When drinking could never say when.
He would drink so much booze,
Through his pores it would ooze,
And when sober start drinking again.
Think, Thank, Thunk
A thinker whose thought were all punk
Hit the bottle and got himself drunk.
But his face was all smiles;
He relabeled his files
Philosophically: think, thank, or thunk.
Thinked, Thanked, and Thunk
I’ve thought and I’ve thank and I’ve thunk;
I’ve sought, then I sank, now I’m sunk.
Thirst I could not bear;
I’m now worse for wear;
For the drought, well I drank, now I’m drunk.
There was a young man from Madras
Who lay on the grass with a lass.
He played oh so cool
Till she tickled his tool,
And it foamed like a bottle of Bass.
There was an old slapper, Ulrika,
A well-known publicity seeker.
She turned men quite pale,
When she swallowed her ale,
With one fell swig from a pint beaker.
Under the Sink
At first he stood up for a drink.
He sat down for a second, I think.
Then, third, from the floor
He gave fourth with a roar,
Killed fifth, and sank under the sink.
What Is It?
What is to our hearts so dear?
What makes the whole world cheer?
What is it we praise
In millions of ways —
Could it be a thing other than Beer?!
Who Gulped All My Beer
I’ve thought here and sat ’til I’ve thunk,
About who could have been the damn skunk,
Who gulped all my beer,
And left me right here,
Until I got totally drunk.
Worthington White Shield
Worthington—beer brewed at Burton-on-Trent
Which doesn’t make guys corpulent;
The reason is clear,
There’s not much in the beer,
Save some water to pass in the Gents.
Ye Olde English Ale
All hail to Ye Olde English Ale;
Ye porter, ye bitter, ye pale.
With flavours that linger,
Like old Bishop’s Finger,
They ain’t for the weak or the frail.
You Get What You Pay For
It’s true what the say about ale,
When it has grown quite stale.
It smells like a skunk,
But still gets you drunk;
I guess that’s why this was on sale.
A Young Man From L.A. by arnie
There was a young man from LA
Who swallowed his beer the wrong way,
Which started him coughing,
And friends in the offing
All found themselves covered in spray.
Send me your favorite beer limericks by e-mail and I’ll add the good ones.