Best Mint Poems
~Tears stream unbridled from jammed doors,
~As I am hid from time.
To let loose the rushing memories
To finally give in and fall apart —
Let a healing water to wash over
And purge this, my ailing heart
To drown every trace of the pain
To do nothing but to weep
That before the night has passed
I, at last, be allowed to sleep,
To bear the raging sledge before me
To shatter the shimmering glass
That the tears come flowing forth
And somehow cleanse the past.
~Tears stream unbridled from jammed doors,
~When love jolts once bottled glass.
Beautiful bush called tango hummingbird mint
Glows a fiery blue with oranges in a glint,
Hummingbirds, honey bees, butterflies too,
Love this plant with the orange and the blue.
I have been trying to buy these bushes for a while.
I am always polite and use my best smile.
I call them on the phone and give them my credit card,
Always out-of-stock, as these are amazing out in the yard.
I have come to a conclusion; there is only one way.
I have thought of it for a year, six months, and a day.
The only way to snag a tango hummingbird mint
Is to find a start off a neighbor, and not a skinflint.
The thought of meeting the love of your life
Can cause you to lose your cool
Stumbling over words and fidgeting about
Just like a boy out of school
It's a common reaction, it happens all over
We're all just following the rules
That surely were laid down many years ago
But it's still not kosher to drool
You open her door and bash her poor head
Embarrassed, you apologize profusely
You offer her gum and a mint from your pocket
And tell her she's a sweet li'l floozie
She looks at you strangely for that response
You barrel forth not blinking an eye
Just wanting to impress this gorgeous young lady
It gets worse the more that you try
In spite of the blunders and embarrassing stuff
Somehow she thinks it's all cute
The more you stumble and trip on your words
She loves you, you big galoot
To cut it short, she's my gorgeous bride
Although many long years have now passed
A lot of water's flowed under the bridge
But she's still got a fabulous ass!!!
© Jack Ellison 2015
white Egret in flight
mint green trees surround lily pond
in soft morning mist.
I have Smelly Armpits and
Bursting to Go
but; I'm heading to the supermarket
the condiments aisle
I meet my neighbour
like conversing with a
pigeon
give me the full recipe
he says
he has arm wrestling
intelligence -
but how to get out of it
unsex me now
come, thick night
he talks about his hedges
I shoplift
the sugar puffs
Mint, peppermint, Cool Mint, badminton. . . .
But that's not what I meant.
You still don't know what I meant?
Then I'll give you a hint.
There's a famous guy named Clint.
Yes, his family name is Eastwood.
As an actor, he's sharp as a flint.
He always wears a shirt with a nice tint.
He hates to drive a car with a dint.
He once wrote a book that never got out of print.
He once daydreamed of being a quint.
He's diligent, he always works without a stint.
"Go ahead, make my day!"
says he, with his eyes shining with a glint.
So tidy is he, well-dressed is he,
without a single loose piece of lint.
Never did he do that, no he didn't.
So said he, with his trademark squint.
But he's not learned enough to be able to read a Septuagint.
Once he broke his leg, and they had to put it into a splint.
Thunder and green mint
The forest so lust I can taste
the tea from here. The rain hits
the roof as I hear the cats purr,
I lay on my bed starring out my
window wishing you were here
by my side watching it with me.
The rain it soothes my mind
relaxes my soul and chills my
veins I can smell your cologne
from the room next door, you
told me "if you sit in the rain
long enough to hear it speak
then you're lucky enough to
always remember me"
I will always remember you and
from now on every time it rains
I promise you to sit there as
long as I hear it speak so I will
always remember your voice, it
was mellow like the rain it
made me melt and it chilled my
veins.
Now I sit here in the rain trying
hard to let my thoughts leave
I'm wet inside the forest of
green mint I hear it coming the
wind blows and I hear you,
"don't tell no body" this is our
secret we had the power to
hear it speak and once you left
the rain washed you away so
now everyday from January to
march I will never forget your
voice unless it never rains.
PEPPER-MINT
P-etite puppy, we missed you this Easter!
E-specially my nephew - who knew you since he was two.
P-erhaps you sent us doggy kisses from the rainbow bridge.
E-ven a bathroom door that I didn’t have to close, and no visible sound
R-eminds me of you. Pepper we all love you. Tears…we love you so!
M-y mind races at your loss, a family dog -
I-ntegral part of my sister’s life.
N-ew day dawns, so quietly, no barks.
T-hirteen years, peerless, given by the Creator.
Kim Rodrigues © 2017
I
Moon is a Necco
Wafer, Sugar Babies, we
‘Neath the Milky Way.
II
Yorks, the Musketeers!
The Swedish Fish froth away
From the Whopper Balls.
III
The dark side of Mars,
The Salt Kiss on the Heath,
No mint’s on the bed.
We are hanging hams, are we
in cellars off the coastal sea
licked by Mediterranean breeze
or foot-smashed grapes in Tuscany
afloat in oaken barrels, we
as flavors gain complexity.
Everyone is clever, everyone is bright
We are salt and we are light
We're the craft of chocolatiers
(from Switzerland with warm
hands on cold mountaintops.)
We are slowly sipped espresso. We are chopped mint.
We indeed are crème brûlée
formed by hand like potter's clay.
I need just before dawn to feel the slopes, love them,
The smell of mint or anise, gentian or orange,
I need to walk to look for ghosts, invisible ones
My parents gone, my wife with quiet kisses,
I need this time away from the sleeping cities,
To find my soul that is lost in loving you,
I need mint, anise or orange, something new
To find the instinct of the donkey, the sweetness of the angel,
I need before dawn to feel the slopes, love them,
The smell of mint and honey, lemon or thyme,
So as not to be late for Alice in Wonderland,
there, write a poem, which tomorrow moves the children.
J’ai besoin avant l’aube de sentir les talus, les aimer,
L’odeur de menthe ou d’anis, de gentiane ou d’orange,
J’ai besoin de marcher pour chercher des fantômes,
Mes parents disparus, ma femme aux calmes baisers,
J’ai besoin de ce temps loin des villes endormantes,
Pour retrouver mon âme qui se perd en t’aimant,
J’ai besoin de la menthe, de l’anis ou de l’orange,
Pour retrouver l’instinct de l’âne, la douceur de l’ange,
J’ai besoin avant l’aube de sentir les talus, les aimer,
L’odeur de menthe et de miel, de citron ou de thym,
Pour ne pas être en retard chez Alice au pays des merveilles,
là, écrire un poème, qui demain émeuve les enfants.
A little question for the U.S. Mint, how do you decide which President to print?
Which Presidential portrait fits best on the money?
Why did you put President Jackson's face on the $20?
If Abraham Lincoln was our best President, why is
he only on the $5's that we've spent?
It's well known that George Washington slept everywhere,
so perhaps a lower denomination was morally fair.
A chance for a little historical reflection, please explain
this currency connection?
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My favorite things:
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-Mint chocolate chip icecream
-Kind words from a kindred spirit
-Worshipping Jesus
-Reading The Holy Scriptures
-Family time
-Watching my son playing in the floor
-Watching my husband playing in the floor with my son and doggie
-The sound of a brook flowing
-Sounds of nature
-Quiet and peace
-Lamb chops, peas and fresh corn(homemade biscuits and cornbread)
-Poetry
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Penelope could touch her toes
And quickly would assume that pose
But everyone knows
It isn't her toes
That beckons to so many beaux!
In floral perfume,
nectar gnawing bees who buzz and hum,
honeypots abound as maple syrup magnets flit and taunt,
garlands of magnolia upon the beechwood trellis,
lavender’s light purple trail a mint leaf tract from Cape Verde to Southwest Asia.
Lilac buds perspire on lambs skin swathes,
a misty bleat and frolic over far-flung heather muirs.
Summer breezes pot pourri
the spicy petals while they linger over luscious gardens, so ethereally wed.
Blessed are those senses we’ve been gifted with to revel in that labyrinthine maze whose vivid weave transports an earthly heaven in our midst.