Best Sips Poems
I lay to waste
The sweetest lips
And drink to taste
The bitter sips
I close my eyes
To the beautiful face
And dream the lies
Away without a trace
I chose to stray
From the heart I hold
And put it away
Like the clothes we fold
I live with pain
From what I’ve done
And grasp in vain
Nothing under the sun….
rock to rock
small sips
red winged blackbird takes
leaning towards the sun,
Iris protects....
seed to seed
small sips
bluegill takes
below the surface,
shadows protect....
bar to bar
small sips
humans take
battered and bruised,
memories protect....
Form:
Two old friends gather
thousands of stories to tell
in between the laughter.
Colorful Feathers,
Delicious nectar is found
Wings rejoice the day
pitter
patter
goes the
rain
upon
the roofs
upon the
streets
upon the
heads
of us all
walking
in the
west
to our
nearest
grocery
store or
convenient
store
with our
common
human
thirst
coming
from the
daily
grind, yet
our own
exertion
here is
absolutely
nothing
like that of
the people
in the lands
far far away,
whose
resources we
have become
experts
at squeezing
every last drop
into our cars
into our products
into our lives
& now back into
our
bodies
as we take the
last refuge---that
very nectar of
life which keeps
all of us humans
trucking here on
this planet---
water.
as bottled water
runs more expensive than
gasoline,
coca-cola &
nestle (to name
a couple) start to build “the next
empire”---one in which
fresh water
gets sucked up from wherever it
naturally flows
& pumped into tankers
owned by private companies
which will
divvy up the goods to the highest
bidders
in the near future.
so to the people of the third world---
whose most valued natural resource,
of which whom some walk
miles to get every day---
we of the
west,
we of the 1st world,
raise our middle fingers up with both hands in
tandem
shouting
“good luck, suckers!
we welcome your business in the future---
be it selling you bottled water or
cemetery plots, coffins, urns, and
shovels.”
A vintage wine’s a precious gift! We see how much remains,
can tease the tongue and ration it (and plumb life’s glass’s curves),
fermented taste that knows no bounds (like one who’s drunk on life)
where naked feet that brave sea’s edge would dance like Fred Astaire).
Yet, human love can bring life joy champagne can’t know, won’t dare,
a rose lacks colors to express (does Safety have a wife?),
births sense that wafts more complex truths than touch our fragile nerves!
Love thrills to taste what Vintner brews within breast’s soft domains!
The sands of time glass meters out define just life, not Love,
for Love, like light has frequencies that obfuscate opaque,
that bounces off of all restraint and pierce what hides black holes
that briefly own all galaxies, frail monsters of intent.
Oh! In the end, is Love what’s left? The universe pays rent
or this life’s dream Love can’t forget? Is this how heaven rolls?
God’s entertainment’s our free will, true bliss when we awake?
For now, we float on matter’s ark, imbibe ‘Return of Dove!’
Brian Johnston
17th of January in 2020
Best bitters; black bar beer,
Brewed brown but ~
bottled blue.
Drunk dirty; delays drag,
During dark ~
dreadful days.
Though taken through tough times,
Thoughts turn to ~
tingling taste.
Confusing consciousness,
Clear conscience ~
clouded case.
Still sip slow, sounds so sane,
Same songs sung ~
safety strong.
Brains behave beautifully
Breeding bright ~
better behaviors.
Ol' Jack Cody was a hard drinkin' cuss
He loved red wine and the whiskey that sips
Met a young lady who made a big fuss
An' gave it all up for a taste of her lips
He stopped his gamblin' and runnin' around
Cleaned up well and started drinkin' sody
Friends shook their heads at this new man they found
Wondered what happened to ol' Jack Cody
Then one day she took her love out the door
Left the old cowboy just scratchin' his head
She went with a gambler, a red vest he wore
An' ol' Jack Cody had one empty bed
Now ol' Jack Cody drinks whiskey that sips
An' don't give a damn for ruby red lips
5/2/2017
I was wracked with anxiousness-
The same overwhelming sensation that attacks your body and mind
When you bring your lips in contact with the sticky rim of a cup
Funneling out spirals of hot content warning signs
You try to cool down the situation staring you straight in the face
By puffing out blows of chilling air to numb the subject
It starts to become too much, however,
The anxiousness of finishing what you started and you dive straight in
Closing your eyes to allow the flaming contents fill your mouth to the brink of explosion
Then it is over.
You dive in for another sip in case the first time was just a laugh
Then you realize that the heat has not yet subsided
Allow yourself time to recover before you ruin it all,
With one anxious mistake.
The sun rose early today.
Chilly air makes me miss her.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee along the Herrengasse brings me to rise.
My head aches from last night’s wine.
The street is quiet like autumn.
A sharp breeze makes me think of loneliness.
A horse-drawn carriage echoes as an old man with a tired beard sips a coffee.
The steam rises from the porcelain cup and gets caught under the brim of his burgundy Tyrolean hat.
He sits alone in the cafe and writes about love.
Death of Cheer
The world of self-indulgence robbed her day.
She drank some sips of cheer along the way.
Some fellows came with smiles; and I must say.
They need not bother; She has passed away.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
January 26, 2010
Poetic form: Elegy
Ringhiare verses Knurren, he smoked a Gurka Royal Courtesan, singing "Snorfin Lowgalling" and Lettmi Love You". Two sips of the Sidting Droft ( sherry and white grape juice mix), he began asking things in his native tougne. I couldn't understand him. He was a harvester of things who made millions farming winter greens and hogs. My Dorseliumic wife didn't want me to be involved with him but I wanted the contract. The guy could be a jerk: but he was cool when it came to business, he tried to get me to help him with his jewelry making business" Rollin Mill_and_Lapidary. I would need to talk things over with my wife : but I really wanted to buy his meat to make sausage for my sandwich shop. He said he'd discount the meat if I could just get some money in the stone game. "He tried to whoo me", and he invited me to the Pickleball contest, that his company sponsored. He told me he'd let me sit right next to
Chorest Beaumont ( the very popular Vocalist and actress) I couldn't help but give in.
That the night my world crumbled, only to have the woman of my dreams amerge from the rumble. My wife came to the Pickleball Tournament and caught
me cuddle dogging with the songstress. Smoking a cohiba Behike I had her on my lap as she laid comfortably in my arms. My wife came in slapped my face and said she was filing for a divorce. I chased her down and asked her to forgive me, but she refused to as this wasn't my first time with another. She lefted, and I stood their crumbling apart until this gift from God came outside to comfort me. She conceived the first of my seven children that night. I looked forward and spoke to my now ex-wife only once since.
passion sips
tasting
my
lips
all thoughts
chase ing fingertips
tracing delicate flesh drips
mind beyond this next touch
embrace this moment never given up
clouds swirl through our dreaming days
moonbeams twirl into our love haze
shadows dance onto our stage
watching as our sweet love
is
made
time drips
passion sips
?
O’ yon lady colorful you are
Still thy head ever-so tilts towards the right
As you hold the book opened end…
You read the passages of yarns
Mysteries and love loons
While also you’re pour sugar into your hot-tea
How colorful you are
Beautiful eyes reading those words embedded in the book wit pages
While also sipping on hot tea
You’re reading gracefully
11/04/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©