A yacht would be the cherry on the daiquiri
but a tad too opulent for me
Give this admiral a sturdy old dinghy
let me row my way out to sea
A mansion with all the trimmings
six carports, servants quarters separate
Then again, with my aging Edsels
why invest now; I’m not desperate
Ah, a round-the-world cruise
just the tonic to soothe
Yet relaxing at home on my couch
I peruse the planet on TV, munch and slouch
So, just let me alone and leave me be
bathroom breaks ~ adventure enough for me
If you cut me my insides will red bleed
Sonnets rhymes lines of purple poetry
I’m full of virgin wine strawberry daiquiri
Pretend to unwind from the taste you see
Amethyst heart at bar of a local Chilli’s
Not nearly a star no drinks on me
Bar tender seems so understanding
Guess that’s the job in part demanding
So it’s a red drink to help me think
If I was a happy drunk I’d sing
Too much a chicken to try hard drink
Don’t need a hangover or anything
Would be fun to drunk sing and scream
But I am too safe in my pity party
I had a dream.
I don’t remember most dreams.
I was cleaning the floors of heaven.
It seemed a mixed blessing,
I was in heaven, after all
but I was cleaning the floors.
It was a part time job,
I knew that intuitively.
I don’t mind house cleaning,
heaven cleaning.
It’s calm work, kind of Zen.
Are we supposed to think of religions in heaven?
At first I scrubbed on my hands and knees.
The floors are soft in heaven, like golden gym mats.
Then I thought of it, and suddenly I had a swiffer-wet mop,
just like that - and the pad never wore out.
After a while, I had an iPod, and AirPods too.
Then a daiquiri - a banana daiquiri with a pastel rainbow umbrella.
They make rapturous daiquiris in the hereafter - they never run out.
‘Heavenly,’ I thought, snorting out a dizzy laugh.
.
.
Songs for this:
The River of Dreams Billy Joel
If the Lord Wasn't Walking By My Side by Elvis Presley
Quiet quibbles with silence and hushed wind’s quackery.
Have nonsensical need for an ice cold daiquiri.
Chicanery of leafy season, coursing slowly,
before its blustery countermand uplifts wholly.
Monotonous quarrel needs a quaff of arctic air,
an unquestioning brisk of maple burning its flare,
Like brandy, in quiescent afterglow’s flirtation,
ho hum’s quadrant equips me for intoxication.
I’ll not be a crone, with quaking bones, beneath a pad
of sunset quilt. I’ll be cold. I’ll brave it. I’ll go mad
with cacophonous joy, kick the crispy depth of leaves.
Removal of sequacious grin. Broad smile Fall retrieves.
Soldiers of fortune caught in the construct
Captive foreign held in the menagerie
Shoulders abortion fought for my next salary
Now souls smoulder over their short daiquiri
I hate it when they’re mad at me
Tragedy had to be for a better tomorrow
War ages are coming
Prepare for the casualties
Rubble
And sorrow
Headlines a tad too hallow
Death still rages on casually
I guess it has to be
The delivery was free
Please don’t be mad at me
But whatever has to be has to be
Piercing blue ices through freezing blood within
Liquid fused molecules of daiquiri bathed in sin
Shattered cracks creviced black caverns of the beast
Rattled, bruised dampened fuse ignites when deceased
Hollow past poisons gas choking the thin air
Empty Souls swallowed whole white pupils blink the stare
Salted meat frozen beef hooked up Into a stiff
Cooked the stew the boiling you dying your last gift
bmdavey@2/28/24
I’ve heard it said we should have five a day
If healthy is how we desire to stay
I’ve planned my diet and so I can say
I’ll get five a day and I’ll be okay
I’ve ordered a cocktail with cherries in
And asked for some lemon - sliced - in my gin
My Bloody Mary with tomato juice
Has vodka, with olives put to good use
That’s how I’ll stay fit and live forever
Five a day’s easy, if you play clever
But you’re looking smug, “That’s just four,” you say
Well I’m not missing my quota today
Check out the bartender and you will see
I’ve ordered a strawberry daiquiri
No penance need be paid by the insular artisan
admonished for seeking an oral platinum quota.
Under furlough! Tuck their perfume in a bureau,
then intermittently release the poise to up-start
inferiority complexes who'll quote of the literati,
and then in the very same breath
naysay a quiver of emotion from word devotion…
Integral quandary - quaint ale or styled daiquiri?
Can phenomenal language fade in the simplistic?
Eloquence is gauche! So pilings of a quay erode…
(2/10/2021: DMS)
Dutch cruller, rich and sweet,
Belgium chocolates, nothing like them.
Scottish kale, made into tasty broth.
New England crab, pride of the Atlantic,
Cuba’s sweet and sour daiquiri.
America’s tastiest eggnog, made instantly sour by the sight of one small dead titter mouse.
One teeny tiny mistake, but I may never drink eggnog again.
there is no sunshine right now
you are in your world room looking at blankness with the tv blasting
there is no laughter right now
i am in another state of parking lot depression munching on greasy pizza slices while killing time
you are probably thinking about life without me and hating me so much in your quiet moments
i am chugging down a strawberry daiquiri sobe wishing you were just speaking to me period
when the dark is exposed to light, it better be something pretty in view
when the stale smell of 'woman-fed-up' is in the air, a plan b is like a nice butt and a great pair of legs
oftentimes forgotten are the roots of what won a heart and a mind's thought
comfort is overdosed and the brain cells are tainted by altered states of choices
eventually, there is that taste of asphalt or dog poop sometimes feared by a considerable percentage
laughter and sunshine are the least of worries....the work overloads all circuits
however at times, the alarm is cut off too late and the snooze button becomes the mistress of regret
They have at least thirty-one flavors all the time.
Available are pistachio, rum raisin, and key lime.
Have you ever tried their strawberry or blueberry cheesecake?
In any single trip, how many flavors can you take?
Other than ice cream, they also have sangria or daiquiri ice.
Everything they have is cool, tasty, and nice.
This place offers variety in a plethora.
I can't believe that all you want is vanilla!
inspired by another member's poem
DOES THE DEVIL MAKE A DEVILISH DAIQUIRI?
So my folks said that I need to stop drinking
And after I did some serious thinking
I told them I would when I’m finally dead
Hey, straight up, that’s exactly what I said
So the argument escalated into a frightful fight
And because none of us are all that bright
We each began screaming and scowling at one another
My dad screamed at me and me at my mother and brother
Yes, I know it’s not smart for me to drink
Especially well after the elephant turns pink
I won’t drink when I’m dead is what I said clear as any bell
That is unless, of course, there’s a barroom in the heart of hell
© 2012...PHREEPOETREE…..~free cee!~
Calypso, Bèlè, Limbo, Reggae
And a Pool Boy, Called Lonny Ray
Margarita and Coolers, by The Bay
All With Umbrellas at Seaside Café’
Like Caribbean Pirates, Taking A Chance
Shaking Our Lala, Wining-Dance
Vacation Adventure, Love-Romance
Worth Every Penny of Check-Advance
Barbados, Tobago, Jamaica, Fun
Songs, Soca, Sand, Surf and Sun
Float To The Bar, in Another Run
Frozen Daiquiri, Screwdrivers, Coke and Rum
Xylophone, Steel Guitar, Cymbals, Steel Drums
Almost, Made Us, Want To Be Beach Bums
When Asked, Were We Happy, We Did Come ? …
… Yeah Mon, Yeah Mon, Yeah Mon, Yeah Mon !
We’re living in a great divide
Up and down Louisville
No where to run or hide
And I know it’s not easy
When for others you’re trying to provide
I can not seem to get much further
Guessing whom to give what to
Hoping I bother no other
A dollar here and a dollar there
Says they won’t stop or stare
Do you see this great divide
Up and down Louisville
Just no where to run or hide
We’re living in such a great divide
Out the window of this bus
I ride
Never going to stop to slide
You’re starving
And I’m just alive
Living in this great divide
One side of the city’s playing up
The other side’s a falling kingdom
There’s a daiquiri store
A beat down place to dwell
When did paradise become such a hell
Don’t you want to see the sun
Out in a moon lit open
Just no where to run
But don’t you want to see the sun
Make it home to the love of a mom
Just to be a child
And say there’s nothing wrong
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