Lava stiletto lips
drips Medusa kisses
transmitting stone corpse aperitifs
she slithetrs hither on
out of night sways of
narcoleptic nuptial napkins
snake strand locks of love
conceal couquettic tenderizing
fetish fantasies of climactic
carnivorous copulations.
Leviathan legs of boa bondage
clench my every clandestine thrunch.
Gonad groundswells of deep droning
desires-immersive of Eden's ego, forgo
an all atoned, permissable persuasions,
passions primitive, albeit death defying
defamations. I thus conclude a deciduous
daunting demise driven by perennial postulates
and hormonal harassed hecticals capturing
coital consequences, feverently focused,
freely formed frailties, neatly nestled,
innately interred, individually invested
by human happenstance helpings of
hepatic herbs of mythological memories
measured in manmade miniature statuettes
cold carved into rejuvenating relics
of our own Rock of Ages intent.
Categories:
aperitifs, appreciation, history, remember, symbolism,
Form: Free verse
Watch the rodents and regulars
Sifting through the spiritless so-so
Of their sake.
Rushing for a room
In the established B&B,
Avocados and aperitifs
Swelling their bellies and slowing their minds.
Always wary of all their wares,
Reapers of replication.
The competition of the committee
For no tribute, nor travesty, just toll.
Watch the stickmen and society
Parade through the pith paths
Of their poetry.
Dawdling for the day
In the extraordinary ordinary,
Tates and Tatt
Warming their bellies and fizzing their minds.
No wares or too many to care,
Makers of mavericks,
Challengers of the committee,
For just tribute, or travesty, no toll.
© 2016 Margo Cami [www.margocami.com]
Categories:
aperitifs, art, imagination,
Form: Free verse
This was a shock treatment.
Becoming friends
with aperitifs.
We drink the eyes
in remorse.
Unabridged. I clean the words
on the whiteboard. The
tongues were black.
Dilemma of stings.
No flesh was left
on the bones.
The body,
becomes a river.
You are drowned
in pink folds.
Satish Verma
Categories:
aperitifs, art,
Form: ABC
...for the Rev Eric Shirvell-Price
A blizzard of papers blanketed his desk.
His pipe rack stood like a chess piece,
mutely waiting to be shifted.
Sepia toned photographs lined the mantlepiece,
like soldiers standing at attention,
and there was a smell of stale tobacco.
Volumes and manuscripts burst
from a bookshelf, while origami figures
lined another. A coffee mug bore stains
of sherry aperitifs, and port to accompany
his after dinner cigar. Crosswords
and limericks were everywhere,
vestiges of his light and lively mind.
There were newspaper articles,
and empty fast food containers, evidence
of lonely, late night dietary indiscretions.
His vestments hung limply from a coat hook
like wraiths, belying his portly frame.
the frame which now lay in a mahogany box,
a whisper of his former self,
a shadow of the man that he once was.
Categories:
aperitifs, dedication, , memorial,
Form: Verse
...for the Rev Eric Shirvell-Price
A blizzard of papers blanketed his desk.
His pipe rack stood like a chess piece,
mutely waiting to be shifted.
Sepia-toned photographs lined the mantle shelf
like soldiers standing at attention,
and there was a smell of stale tobacco.
Volumes and manuscripts burst from a bookshelf,
while origami figures lined another.
A coffee mug bore stains of sherry aperitifs
and port to accompany his after dinner cigar.
Crosswords and limericks were everywhere,
vestiges of his light and lively mind.
There were newspaper articles,
and empty fast food containers,
evidence of lonely, late night dietary indiscretions.
His vestments hung limply from a coat hook like wraiths,
belying his portly and prodigious frame.
the frame which now lay in a mahogany box,
a shadow of his former self,
full measure of the man that he once was.
Categories:
aperitifs, tribute, writing,
Form: Verse
...for the Rev Eric Shirvell-Price
A blizzard of papers blanketed his desk.
His pipe rack stood like a chess piece,
mutely waiting to be shifted.
Sepia toned photographs lined the mantlepiece,
like soldiers standing at attention,
and there was a smell of stale tobacco.
Volumes and manuscripts burst
from a bookshelf, while origami figures
lined another. A coffee mug bore stains
of sherry aperitifs, and port to accompany
his after dinner cigar. Crosswords
and limericks were everywhere,
vestiges of his light and lively mind.
There were newspaper articles,
and empty fast food containers, evidence
of lonely, late night dietary indiscretions.
His vestments hung limply from a coat hook
like wraiths, belying his portly frame.
the frame which now lay in a mahogany box,
a whisper of his former self,
a shadow of the man that he once was.
Categories:
aperitifs, tribute,
Form: Blank verse
A Wordsmith's Diet
by Odin Roark
The thirst hour
Where dark caramel movement
Swirls its spell among icy shards
As today and yesterday's memories
Wait to cut loose their syllabic flotsam
Ink's endless search
For shoreline discovery
Just as Time knows so well opportunity
So too imagination refuses confinement
Remembering primitive grunts
Vernacular's ancient primate sounds
Made legible by centuries' evolving accent
Rhythm
Pitch
Tempo
Until
Symbols simmered themselves into words
Offered snacks for tweets
Sumptuous main courses for tomes
Desserts for savory genre sweets
Aperitifs for poetic thought
Such teasing
For creation's palate
Only ups the appetite
For lexiconic feasting
To understand life's metaphoric appetite
Is to be not frightened
Even as I eat you to live
Categories:
aperitifs, write,
Form: Free verse
...for the Rev Eric Shirvell-Price
A blizzard of papers blanketed his desk.
His pipe rack stood like a chess piece,
mutely waiting to be shifted.
Sepia toned photographs lined the mantlepiece,
like soldiers standing at attention,
and there was a smell of stale tobacco.
Volumes and manuscripts burst
from a bookshelf, while origami figures
lined another. A coffee mug bore stains
of sherry aperitifs, and port to accompany
his after dinner cigar. Crosswords
and limericks were everywhere,
vestiges of his light and lively mind.
There were newspaper articles,
and empty fast food containers, evidence
of lonely, late night dietary indiscretions.
His vestments hung limply from a coat hook
like wraiths, belying his portly frame,
the frame which now lay in a mahogany box,
a whisper of his former self,
a shadow of the man that he once was.
Categories:
aperitifs, inspirational,
Form: Verse
...for the Rev Eric Shirvell-Price
A blizzard of papers blanketed his desk.
His pipe rack stood like a chess piece,
mutely waiting to be shifted.
Sepia-toned photographs lined the mantlepiece
like soldiers standing at attention,
and there was a smell of stale tobacco.
Volumes and manuscripts burst from a bookshelf,
while origami figures lined another.
A coffee mug bore stains of sherry aperitifs
and port to accompany his after dinner cigar.
Crosswords and limericks were everywhere,
vestiges of his light and lively mind.
There were newspaper articles,
and empty fast food containers,
evidence of lonely, late night dietary indiscretions.
His vestments hung limply from a coat hook like wraiths,
belying his portly and prodigious frame.
the frame which now lay in a mahogany box,
a whisper of his former self,
scant measure of the man that he once was.
Categories:
aperitifs, on writing and words
Form: Verse
Aperitifs and hard spirits,
With canapes and rarebits.
Delicious hors de ouvres,
Accompanied by tangy dips.
Tomato soup with crouton,
And an entree of mouton;
My strawberry red sorbet:
Makes way for my releve.
Bring on the roast,
Not with melba toast;
Poor lentils of course,are the ones hated most.
Don't forget legumes,are vegetables of course!
The entremets the sweetest,of the entire course.
This cafe's hot coffee,makes me feel not to snore,
I've got to the finish sipping Bailey's liqueur.
---- Princefreakasso
(Artist and Poet)
Categories:
aperitifs, food
Form: Epulaeryu
...for the Rev Eric Shirvell-Price
A blizzard of papers blanketed his desk.
His pipe rack stood like a chess piece,
mutely waiting to be shifted.
Sepia toned photographs lined the mantlepiece,
like soldiers standing at attention,
and there was a smell of stale tobacco.
Volumes and manuscripts burst
from a bookshelf, while origami figures
lined another. A coffee mug bore stains
of sherry aperitifs, and port to accompany
his after dinner cigar. Crosswords
and limericks were everywhere,
vestiges of his light and lively mind.
There were newspaper articles,
and empty fast food containers, evidence
of lonely, late night dietary indiscretions.
His vestments hung limply from a coat hook
like wraiths, belying his portly frame.
the frame which now lay in a mahogany box,
a whisper of his former self,
a shadow of the man that he once was.
Categories:
aperitifs, dedication
Form: Verse