Absinthe Poems

Green Fairy

If 'music be the food of love,'
as the Avon Bard did write,
sing me a song of sixpence for my supper,
to see me through this star-crossed night.
And there'll be no need to drink to me
only with thine eyes,
as, for a happy hour or two,
a glass of euphoria I will pour for you.
A Green Fairy, guaranteed to

Absinthe of Malice

La Fée Verte, Mistress of Wormwood, 
High Consort of la Belle Époque,
Shimmering with joie de vivre.
She’s holding court with bohemian charm,
All haute couture with feathers and furs,
Promising what fools believe.

One spends the night with mademoiselle
In bondage to her whims and mercies,
Content to be softly chained,
Then wakes up nude in the Paris Commune,
A subject of interest

In the Absence of Absinthe

enough is enough-- seriously how would it not

the fog rolling over my eyes
over my body
this fog that swallows my voice
annihilates my being
digs deep to my very soul
losing the me that
i so wish you would
want to know
want to love

lost to the taste of absinthe on my lips



AP: Honorable Mention 2023, Honorable Mention 2023

Early Poems Xiv

Early Poems XIV

Am I
by Michael R. Burch

Am I inconsequential;
do I matter not at all?
Am I just a snowflake,
to sparkle, then to fall?

Am I only chaff?
Of what use am I?
Am I just a feeble flame,
to flicker, then to die?

Am I inadvertent?
For what reason am I here?
Am I just a ripple
in a pool that once was clear?

Am

Your Absinthe Eyes

(Up-Tempo Shuffle)


VERSE A

Each war of personalities
Within your crowded soul
Reaps a gasp of mystery
Anticipated - anticipated ...

But just a flash of golden-green
One sweetened liquored gaze
I'm on a slope that's slippery
Intoxicated - intoxicated - oh


CHORUS 1

I drink you like a madman - ma-ad-man
With cubes of sugar, sugar - sugar, sugar, Baby
I'm clouded like a bad man -

Absinthe Dreams

Color swirl, collision of
Light mesmerizes; the fire 
Incinerates; a dust
fade-to-black…
Absinthe dreams.

Absinthe

It awakens artists & cures melancholy.
Take me away from this dark reality.
Numb my sorrows & heal my pain.
My wounds will heal, but will I love again?

Absinthe releases the "Green Fairy."
It has inspired writers like Mary Shelley.
Open my third eye to see the mystical.
Everyone's dreams should be magical.

It creates roles for actors to play.
Images of someone

Absinthe Leaves

In the firmament of trees
October's eye
looks down in cruel azure
on summer's absinthe leaves,
flocking like survivors
to a mortal haven.
Autumn's blood magma
creeps through leaves
bequeathing fire 
and brittle amber. 
Fertile frost breeds
in arctic prisms,
whispering feral eddas
as withering violets
echo bitter truth.

An Absinthe Eventide

I sauntered in an evening mist
   A midnight's heaven, magic-kissed
      Lamp-lit raindrops pattered, awesome
         Shining city turned violet blossom
            Enchantments I could ne'er resist.

Adrift upon the Paris, proper
 

Absinthe Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

the 
bass,
the 
treble,
the 
high, 
high 
hat,
rat
a
tat
tat,
throb
and
pull,
a 
mad,
mad
pulse,
match
the
slow
pour
of 
a 
sloe
gin,
and
I
never
clap
for 
the
rude 
crescendo
of
her
tin
ear
and 
his
last
call...

Absinthe Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

From a broken Heart, does one recover:
To know you will always love the other?
When discarded like trash, far too late, alas! 
You soon discover you long for that Lover?

Drinking Absinthe

Drinking absinthe the color green,
snuck from Ireland in a bag unseen.

Dreams of faeries in my green bean patch,
chasing leprechauns I never can catch.

Into a cave, where St. Patrick sat,
on a rock, stroking an old fuzzy cat.

"What's up, Pat!"  I said with a slur.
"You know" He said "Drink is not your cure."

"Well, Pat." I slurred.

Absinthe

I was a non-believer in exodus
of nothingness. 
Here you are,
I am.

In crimson sky 
talking of nobody, unbuttoning the moon.
Fill up my glass 
with tears of joy.

And sleep I must 
in the arms of sorrow.
There was a shipwreck in absence 
while chasing the eyes.


Satish Verma

Absinthe

honoring Rimbaud's birthday

... for some,

the wormwood of unholiness is the only sacrament known,

the ecstasy of wickedness their hymn, their

prayer, their psalm,

and the thunder-crashes aren't from hell alone

but a realm of madness known as god

thrashing about in gleeful drunkenness and

sudden epiphany of birth,

virgin in shimmering, ravishing darkness,

forever - ever, and amen...

The Green Fairy - Absinthe

The Green Fairy visits me
From an apothecary jar
And gives me a Commoner’s taste of heaven
Libations for one and all
In close proximity
Not from afar.

In smoke filled rooms
Of curling delights
I see diamonds
Reflected in all the lights
And Illumination 
From the green glow 
Possessed by the café’s glasses.

All is forgiven and forgotten
Within those walls of shame
There is a 

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