Best Libation Poems
liquor
crushed ice
an effervescent tonic
an engaging libation
a crystal glass an empty mass
a looking glass an engaging lass
a reflection fills the flask
an hourglass figure smooth as glass
a view deep
a deep view
a hot and hard jigger
an episodic embrace of the stem
a nicely paced repetitive stroked type grip
measured
a high pitch pleasured note of delight
a charge
and another...
...and another...
...and...
….....
...a spill...
...a swig...
...a swallow
an emphatic gush
a coupled roast
an orgasmic toast
a sexual rush.
31~10~2014
soon
close
almost
a month
her cycle
repeats itself
not in birth
but rebirth
wax and wane
the full moon
takes out
a red tide
June is
the strawberry moon
and the honey moon
Salute
drink mead
for honey sweet
and red
wine for
the blood
Give me a drink for I have a
prayer to say
A hard native brew for a strong
supplication to Mawu.
I shall call Okplejen the mighty
God who bears the earth and
her siblings.
Then I will call Klotia and call
Amli
The tree that bore the fruit
from which seed this shoot
sprouted.
Ododoben full to empty
Warrior's linguist listen, hear
for your lord
Agoooo eii!! Agooo!
Kantankani boafo, King-bi King
Amlalobi Amlalo Ataa-Naa
Nyornmor I call on you
Keep not your ears away from
my cry
For tomorrow has come home
to today
A palanquin on a hill bears the
valley's regal
Kunim sits on a lofty valley
view at Neehu
Awaiting the glorious royal
descend to familiar cacophony.
The drag is long on the crag.
Hewaletse,I pray strength to
the often weary tendons of the
yoke bearer.
To body and soul, nourishment
and fortification.
O Yehowa, summon thy guards
to the palanquin's safety.
By fire at night, by clouds in
the day
you lead
Break the limbs of treacherous
men who ride on the veil of
darkness to commit evil
Blind the evil-envious eyes of
the wicked and dumb the
cursing tongue.
Surely the stranger-native must
come home safely and in glory.
Tswa ni omanye aba!
Hiao!!
Hear the 15-year-old crying
“Momma,” "Momma" as he lays dying
Shot in D.C. Juneteenth crowd.
A voice of suffering rings out loud
to a country’s conscious ears,
that are deaf to blood and tears,
from bullets sounding through the air,
as joy and justice were on minds there.
Veins yet tender, young and bold
Rose with warmth and sleep in cold?
Where was his mind as he lay dying?
For his mother, he was crying
Not on his father did he call.
Had he known this man at all?
Sleep in peace, Oh "native son,"
shot on the streets of Washington.
Libations to your memory,
a soul the struggle has set free.
Slain by a wanton hand unknown,
before you were a man full grown.
Laminated libidos
Liquidate lovelorn longings
Lunar Lycanthropes
Champagne when you celebrate
Wine just for the taste
Whiskey when you need to forget
And you have no time to waste
Beer when it’s hot and the work is done
Brandy when the nights turn cold
Rum on the beach fresh fruit within reach
Isopropyl when you're growing old
Scotch and whatever, black tie affairs
Vodka helps you play your role
But lying in the bed of an old pickup truck
Tequila... lets you visit your soul
My ancestors, so wise and so strong,
Your legacy will live on in a song.
Your courage and strength were so bold,
You were brave and you were bold.
Your hardships and struggles I cannot ignore,
Your stories are a part of my core.
Your wisdom and love I will never forget,
Your legacy will never be met.
Your spirit will live on in me,
Your courage and strength will always be.
Your memories will stay in my heart,
Your legacy will never part.
April 6—Beverage, libation, liquid…
Daily Ritual Drinks Drink
in the morning
I drink a cup
of snarling hot coffee
while watching the news.
in the afternoon
I shift to tea
either earl gray
or herbal tea.
a day without Earl Gray
is not a good day.
at sunset
I drink red wine
with my wife.
as the evening
shifts into night
I drink rum
or whiskey.
to eat the day
right.
You and I are at the sink
We’re making martinis
‘bout time
Don’t you think?
Beefeaters my gin
Your choice Bombay
We’ve tried many others
But don’t often stray
You are very precise
Mix yours 4 to 1
Me, not so particular
Vermouth, almost none
I’ll take an olive
You like a twist
If there’s no fruit
You’ll use ‘Lemon Mist’
The first sip brings a smile
And good conversation
There’s nothing quite like
This Royal Libation
We sip and enjoy
Gaze out at the view
And offer a toast
Here’s to Life, Here’s to Love, Here’s to you
I do enjoy imbibing a vintage libation
now and again (and again, and again)
but when I thought I'd bought
the best bottle of Bordeaux money can buy,
then looked at the label on the back,
before pulling the cork, I nearly had a heart attack.
'Characterised by a great body,' it stated,
'velvety cedar and hazelnut texture,'
but my taste buds went unsated,
'with an intense deep ruby red colour,' to summarise,
'possesses exceptional aromas of cherries,'
and much to my surprise,
'with hints of vanilla, blackcurrant, raspberries,
cassis and tobacco which reveal
a long, chocolaty finish and a good mouth feel.'
Altho' this above-average beverage may in time be fine,
I'm truly convinced no grapes were unduly harmed
in the making of this wine!
Sharing my love narration,
Causing much elation,
Ignoring cant negation,
Here tis love central station,
Harmless joy aeration,
Heart is your curation,
Pixie dust your vocation,
Love needs no stagnation,
Evolving, with illustration,
Never has privation,
Revoked our sublimation,
Scribbling this summation,
"Pour blessed love libation!"
Come! Bring forth the jar that for months had stood
Patiently undisturbed in the shadow!
Lift its lid, remove the leaves that serve as hood
And help age the wine that’s about to flow.
Catch a whiff of its sweet smell long detained
That now perfumes the air around us here.
Take some of the liquid with a bowl unstained
And--wait! Before we all have a good cheer,
Pour some libation to Kabunian’s name
From whom this wine and other favors came.
Fill the bowl fashioned from coconut shell
Blackened by time and from its constant use;
Pass the tapuy while the elders retell
The story of how this fermented juice
Has come down to us in its present form,
In much the same way that our forebears
Crafted it from rice, and then to transform
The grains into this divine drink we share,
Mixed it with bubod in order to mature
And ripen the liquor that now is pure.
Ah, how sweet the taste! How smoothly it goes
And warms the tongue that now tingles for more!
And the unique fragrance that from it grows
Reminds one of fields and of the outdoor.
How the liquid shines as clear as a spring--
Or a brook--that sprung from a mountain side!
Come, partake of this drink fit for a king
And speaks so well of the Igorots’ pride--
A toast to us here gathered of one mind,
And may the anitos be ever kind!
*Tapuy is rice wine from the Igorots of the Cordillera Region in the Philippines.
October 27-29, 2024