Best Wineglass Poems
It
was him,
and immediately
I felt the very moment he
too, saw me as I entered the room.
I averted my eyes, seemingly not magnetized,
yet his form continued to caress the corner of my eyes.
My entire body was so attuned to his every movement, I sighed.
Suffused with such warmth was I, knowing he was looking at me…alone.
I tried to turn away, but felt the searing heat where his eyes touched my skin.
I realized I was hypnotized, mesmerized by the power of intense attraction.
Minutes passed by, I would catch again his eyes, staring, brooding.
Overwhelmed by his presence, I felt such effervescence.
Senses wired to all that was him, I was exulted
to know that his eyes were as glued
to me as mine were to him.
Nobody, no one else.
Him and only
him.
He moved, the
second I floated to him.
I stopped, time to catch my breath.
Him whose strides came quickly to my side.
Such panther’s grace, eyes holding my stare, he smiled.
The wineglass in my hand trembled, serene not I, far from calm.
Suffused with much warmth was I, knowing he was looking at me…alone.
I turned away, and felt the searing heat where his eyes just touched my skin.
Hand on my elbow, he silently led me to where the crowds were, to dance .
Such arrogance, I thought I’ve had enough as a child, of dominance.
Yet I, surprised, felt the rush of liquid fire through my veins
with his large hand, warm and steady on my bare back.
Alive were all nerve ending, as we went dancing
through the night, I heard the loud sound
of the wild beating of my heart.
Suddenly…I was jarred,
and from a dream,
woke up
I.
Kim Patrice Nunez
DREAMS CONTEST - 10 th Place
SPONSOR: ROB CARMACK
23 April 2015
Categories:
wineglass, dance, desire, dream, love,
Form:
Shape
The end of our dreams
flow in shattered discord
like a wineglass overturned
In our fruitless searches
bereavement impales
as we pour the bottle on the floor
Watching each drop
collect and pool
swirling in bitter waves
Our tongues are stained
with that sweet taste
rose tinted
with hints of sage
and as our spirits rise
from a body so fine
they will pour us in our graves
Categories:
wineglass, dream, drink, imagery, simile,
Form:
Free verse
Early days as a flaneur;
I recall the couple
On the Metro
When I was still innocent
Of its labyrinthine complexities;
Slim pretty white girl,
Clad head to toe
In new blue denim,
Wistfully smiling
While her muscular black beau
Stared straight through me
With fathomless, fulgorous orbs;
And one of them spoke
(Almost in a whisper):
"Qu'est-ce que t'en pense?"
Then it dawned on me...
The slender young Parisienne
With the distant desirous eyes
Was no less male than I.
Being screamed at in Pigalle,
And then howled at again
By some kind of wild-eyed
Drifter who told me to go
To the Bois de Boulogne to seek
What he clearly saw as my destiny;
Getting soused in Les Halles
With Sara
Who'd just seen Dillon as
Rusty James,
And was walking around in a daze;
Sara again with Jade
At the Caveau de la Huchette.
Cash squandered
On a cheap gold-plated toothbrush,
Portrait sketched at the Place du Tertre,
Paperback books
By Symbolist poets,
Second hand volumes
By Trakl and Deleve,
And a leather jacket from
The flea market
At the Porte de Clignancourt.
Metro taken to Montparnasse,
Where I slowly sipped
A demi blonde
In one of those brasseries
(Perhaps)
Immortalised by Brassai;
Bewhiskered old man
In a naval officer's cap,
His table bestrewn
With empty wine bottles
And cigarette butts,
Repeatedly screeched the name
"Phillippe!" until a bartender
With patent leather hair,
Filled his wineglass to the brim,
With a mock-obsequious:
"Voila, mon Captaine!"
I cut into the Rue du Bac,
Traversed the Pont Royal,
Briefly beheld
Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois,
With its gothic tower,
Constructed only latterly,
In order that
The 6th Century church
Might complement
The style of the remainder
Of the 1er Arrondissement,
Before steering for the
Place du Chatelet,
And onwards...Les Halles!
Categories:
wineglass, friend, loneliness, pain, paris,
Form:
Prose Poetry
"One day I woke up to a world of topsy-turvy
one minute sharing a meal and hugging my kids
and the next, keeping my distance with a masked smile"
I believe that tomorrow was never ours
and that hope is the rafter that keeps us afloat
I believe that this pandemic has changed our attitude
and given us a chance to realize how precious life is
I believe that if we persevere and work together
we can find a solution to this dilemma
I believe government is doing the best it can
we can't slap our leaders, if we need their hand
I believe in miracles, especially in these difficult times
one day can make a difference
I believe that mountains can crumble and so can people
but if we fight the good fight, we can win
I believe in good old fashioned courage
putting a little water in our wineglass
I believe we owe it to ourselves and to our loved ones
to continue to do all that we can, to stay healthy and alive.
Categories:
wineglass, appreciation, life,
Form:
Free verse
Late the music played in the smoky air
in our noir Bogey and Bacall vignette,
and hands that stroked your silky chestnut hair
held a red wine and lit a cigarette.
Your soft skin smelt of aloes and citrus -
the smudge of fresh lipstick on your wineglass,
and what covet it was those lips to kiss -
in wine there’s love! In vino veritas!
Those bitter tannins with your sweet imbue
filled my soul and we played our wicked game,
and I knew no one could save me but you
for you doll are no ordinary dame.
If I should echo your whistle I’ll know
to just put my lips together and blow!
Written: April 2013
For Les
Note: Wicked Game is a song by
Chris Isaak. It was then
and will always be our song.
In vino veritas is Latin for
“in wine there’s truth”.
Categories:
wineglass, love, wife,
Form:
Sonnet
my boyfriend asked me ‘what is fragile’
and i said
Glass
Hearts
Bones
the wineglass i threw at the wall
shards of glass in the expensive carpet
because you kept pushing pushing pushing
born with a heart murmur
doctor talk for not fully formed
pulsing pulsing pulsing
bones that cracked
and i said nothing because i couldn't be
weak weak weak
my boyfriend as me ‘what is fragile’
and i said
Glass
Hearts
Bones
broken bits of mirror
because her collarbones stand out but she’s still too
fat fat fat
heart that can't keep up
racing towards an explosion it
hammers hammers hammers
bones that won’t produce enough blood
you bleed and you don’t heal you’re
dying dying dying
my boyfriend asked me ‘what is fragile’
and i said
Glass
Hearts
Bones
the porch door
slammed too hard because you’re
angry angry angry
a heart attack
his doctor said stop drinking and he
didn't didn't didn't
bones crunch when you hit that wall
a closed fist that needs to hit something
hard hard hard
my boyfriend asked me ‘what is fragile’
and i said
People
People
People
my grandfathers ashes in an urn
the closest we’ve ever been
his body in the ebony casket
the last time i saw him he was so close to healthy
a phone call from the school administration
she killed herself live on Facebook
my boyfriend asked me ‘what is fragile’
and i said
You
Categories:
wineglass, boyfriend, death, death of
Form:
Free verse
There are two glasses of wine on the stand
One for me and the other for somebody dear
Time ticks slow waiting for him to be near
Sadly nobody seems to be coming at hand.
Outside the sun fades away for the day
Night awakens with the moon and stars
My heart cries unaided for you to be afar
No calls or quests were left from you today.
I empty one glass of red wine for comfort
The solitary cup remains for his return home
One can only wonder weather he is alone
Maybe these thoughts will only be an effort.
Desolately I dimmed the lights in the room
Why can’t you come home and be with me
I have been waiting for a long time you see
You left me once, twice would be too soon.
I closed my eyes only to dream of yesterday
You cradled me gently in your arms all night
A whisper of kindness assured me all is alright
When I would wake, your smile came my way.
Gently a soft voice upset my restless sleep
I shrugged it off and kept sleeping sound
Then a kiss forced me to turn around
A man stood before and I could only weep.
The lonely wineglass was now no longer full
Two unfilled glasses stood facing each other
And a couple walked off with one another
Sorry the story has to end, life is no longer dull.
Categories:
wineglass, friendship, life, lost love,
Form:
Verse
She felt the soft brush of the grass
upon her fingers as she tripped
amongst the lazy Spring meadow.
Her faint flesh blush, vibrant, aglow
from the sweet cider she had sipped
of the long forbidden wineglass.
The moist dew trailed along her wrist
as the morning haze draped her gown
exposing her delicate youth
and the inexorable truth;
it’s easy for a girl to drown
in love’s first forbidden soft kiss.
Categories:
wineglass, love,
Form:
Rhyme
I saw her sitting alone
At a corner table
Of a poorly lit inn
Her blouse pink
The color of
Sweet smelling roses
She had no clue
Who else was in the
Tavern and did not care
She was reading
From what looked like a diary
Occasionally taking notes
Infrequently sipping
From a half empty glass
Of sallow wine
Her hair was colored
Gold as shiny as King
Tut’s venerated chair
She looked like a model
Unsuspectingly posing
For a photo shoot
With her cheek bones
Placed high in her face
Her eyes made of jade
When I looked at her
From the far side of the room
A butterfly entered the locale
And softly settled
On the rim of my wineglass
Levitating my heart
On occasion she would
Posture a smile more
Captivating than a Mona Lisa
I stood up slowly
My feet growing colder
As I approached her
Hello, I said
To myself as I
Haughtily fought
My chi and feigned
Indifference as I soberly
Lost course and
Spun toward the exit
Leaving my rose behind
And keeping it my secret
Nobody noticed
As I solemnly walked past
The prophet’s scrawls
On the walls and
Made a point to step
On each crack in the sidewalk
Categories:
wineglass, allegory, introspection, lost love
Form:
Prose Poetry
Words
Where do words come from?
In moments of exhilaration or despair
They come unbidden, sometimes tumbling,
Sometimes meandering, making their uninvited way,
The welcomed unwelcome guest.
Thoughts of you lay dormant,
Quietly biding their time until chance
Encounter on Facebook summons them,
And they turn inward to words past,
The remembrances of love.
The soft belltone of a wineglass
Tapped to ring in the splash of ruby,
Lubricant of words, key to
Disinhibited recall of feelings and touch,
The gentle caress of Bacchus’ arms.
Thus unlocked, I await their coming,
Expectant, hopeful, certain of their power,
To charm and persuade, yet
Still uncertain they will answer my call,
Fearful they will betray me.
Where are you, words?
Why do you not spring forth, my champions,
My shimmering knights, when the
Dragon emerges from her lair and breaths
Her sweetly perfumed fire?
You are my caparisoned destrier,
My lance, my sword, my shattering mace;
You are my armour bright,
To win me fortune at the tilt,
My Lady’s token favour.
Ah Words, you desert me!
Categories:
wineglass, words,
Form:
Blank verse
wineglass in my hand
I retire to window ledge
far from madding crowd.
faint polite laughter
bane drunken conversations
will not touch me here.
a lone gorgeous man
relentless eyes pursue me
distance keeps me safe.
@jjote 0831/2015
Categories:
wineglass, people,
Form:
Senryu
I thought I had the element of surprise
on my side, as I looked longingly in her eyes
Tempted to reveal the whole spiel
She spoke with unequivocated zeal
...elegant fingers fondled a wineglass stem
Knowing the control she had on men
Furtive grin as she relished her hold on them...
Sparring in Stained-wood and polished brass arenas
Lighten by neon signs, three stools between us
Asking as I wrote, what words I conjured
Her initial inquiry left me feeling honored
But as fast as the fascination manifested
a more sinister motive was then suggested
It was my intention, she says, to deceive
Acting involved in the words I conceived
Reeling in interest as I pretended no notice
I laughed at her silly suggestion of motive
Knowing all the while it was her presence
giving my poem a direction of essence
She turned to leave and find another seat
I watched her, bemused with her tantrum retreat
My pen-hand scrawling the last of those lines
I slipped the finished product under her wine
Reading it, her full lips mouthed the words
Smiling, she now knew her assertions absurd...
I left then, fumbling for the keys to my car
Keeping with my rule "No love at the bar"
Walking off, pleased with my choice to exit
Every part of my body language said it.
She knew I gave her a different intimacy
an unabashed version--peering into me
Categories:
wineglass, on writing and words,
Form:
Rhyme
NOONRAY IN WINTER
Noonray in your navel
a locus for language light
whale wave wishes
in water songs kisses
as July just jokes along
Winter wonder words waffling
storm crown chakra baffling
cold she stirs potted iced rice
as rain rigorously roars
Noonray holds the dice
On hailstone highway she
instantly marries marigold
instinct with indigo intuition
timing tactical thunderbolts
favouring floods for nutrition
Noonray in silent shiver
shake or hide shelter seek
a game of glum greeting
Winter knows no flotsam
fathomless figure awaiting
Noonray no wee whimpers
or white wisdoms waste
in a wineglass she slithers
six seamless seasonless
sweets simultaneously
… then quivers !
©GhairoDanielsPoetry&
Song2024
Categories:
wineglass, 12th grade, color, extended
Form:
Carpe Diem
Form is the wineglass from which I pour,
The many words and thoughts I store.
It holds vivid images blended there,
Subtle and smooth, or feelings austere.
Without form, words spill out everywhere,
Rambling forth like sea waves to the shore.
Like wasted wine losing body and taste,
Words without form were written in haste.
Form defines the poem, gives it identity.
Whether it's a sonnet, a haiku, or couplet maybe.
Like a house with words there residing,
Form keeps them intact, message flowing.
Cynthia Buhain-Baello ~~~09.13.17
Categories:
wineglass, writing,
Form:
Couplet
The clown with his red cherub face
A maggot in his twisted brain
The jack-booted leather Christian
With dull razorblades down his spin
Staring down from their high windows
The taste of gin upon their tongues
Lusty fire crackling in their eyes
Peering through a glowing skylight
Her luscious body lies reclined
Naked upon a soft red divan
Bathed by the nocturnal moonlight
Dark hair caressing her full breasts
Wineglass in her ruby nailed hand
Cigarette smoke hangs like a mist
Within her thick glassed fishbowl perch
Well aware of her voyeur friends
A wood fire smoke perfumed grey fog
Creeps through the emerald city
In the lighted valley below
The street sounds echoing upward
A lone saxophone serenades
From a lighted corner news stand
The battered open case lying
Before white patent leather shoes
A hooded figure at the keys
With faded fingerless gloves
The sound of blues bathing the air
Reflecting off sueted windows
A cab slowly crawls to a halt
Before a finely dressed doorman
He receives a small diamonded hand
Her stiletto heel strikes concrete
She walks the carpeted runway
He opens a cipher locked door
She passes him a fresh twenty
Before her image disappears
A leather clad rider appears
Astride a black silver chromed horse
Gliding down the shadowy street
Vanishing with a ghostly roar
A nearby siren screams and hearts skip
Gunshots ring and distant tires squeal
The saxophone player pauses
The Clown and Christian shift their gaze
Categories:
wineglass, imagination, mystery, nostalgia, fire,
Form:
Free verse