Glassful Poems

Your Run Is Your Sidon

We all know our Sodom to flee from
And now I wish to include your rum:
To you loaf of Bread but I know Crumb,
Long minutes after a glassful dumb...

You're now by God's Angels invaded
For interest that are better jaded:
A fellow released dares not look back,
You'd be looking back: your fast flight slack:
To quit seizing a bottle Freedom,
Big Achievement of Divine stardom.

Elusive Poacher

He drank a glassful brandy,
All over again randy, 
Then tried a little Quanta 
And soon began to banter
"I'm a Poaching Trespasser,
In a Property, Racer,
Moving at a clean canter, 
No halting by your Mantra...

Often watching Lawful Pace, 
A keen eye on Owner's Face
To hellfire not let loose,
Owner to reject a truce,
My poaching finger first list
For those to receive hard first!

A full glass of Quanta 
By a self - acclaimed Santa
Dwelling on the new exploit
Of the Decidedly Spoilt.

Necessarily Interrupted Sleep

While I tried having a begging nap,
On my door heard a begging rap…
A female caller tilting her velvety cap,
An errand running for my indulgent pap,
On her bluish blouse, a heat-transferred world map,
While her spread right fingers she played on her lap.

From me, got and drank a glassful wine,
Which first dulled her eyes before they did shine…
I guessed between her mission and mine,
An eternal gap,
But still said “Fine!”
In a sleepy voice that didn’t any energy sap…
“She is to continually join me in my sleep,
And begin a relationship passionately deep”.

The Glass Orb

*Image of Santa Clause, Charlie Calvin by Giphy.

The Glass Orb

In an e'er thus oft agitated contorted crystalline world,
Unconsciously being tinseled by the energies that transpire,
Flurries of fakery enshroud the encircled glassful menagerie.
Indifferent minions from habit, obey the traumatic turbulence,
Revolving in every-which-way of an inescapable no bars prism.
Liquefied mirage a wintry desert of horned camels and pine dates.
Nevertheless, calming ceremoniously exhibits, abruptly emerge.
Ambiguity surrenders gracefully, necessitating the delusion,
There exists a well-treasured keepsake immortalized in a globe.
Adoringly exposed glittering peepers to overindulge in disbelief,
As a seasonal passage liberates a once boxed stored wonderment.

2019 November 25
*1st Place*
A Brian Strand 4 to 14 line
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2021 August 08 
*1st Place*
Stuck in a Christmas Globe
~~Bobby May: Judged 2019 December 12

If I Die For My Nation

Listen listen respected MAA
Forget my all mistakes
If I die for my nation
Open windows all the gates

So that soul of mine could enter
Could see father and you MAA
And sit down on lap MOM 
To re feed your milk my MAA

And could ask all you 
To forget my all evils 
And forget my presence symbol
As I return to crush the perils

I remember early awakening 
And remember glassful milk 
I remember your calling
To wearing Kurta made of silk

Believe Believe and trust me MAA
I will return to serve the nation
Will rejoin beloved army
I remember milk your taken 

* MAA (Hind) = Mother

Composed by :(c) Hariom Sharma, CFA
Source Book : Keep Smiling
Publisher: PJH Publications
E-MAIL : hari.cfa@gmail.com

For more poems please search "hariomsharmapoetry" on facebook
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Laney

. . . Come pick thy left pieces
For my brain still counts memories
Go behind my eyes
For thy shadow shines like flash light
Fetch my hanging appetite 
The ulcers are feeding on your aroma
A glassful of your lip twists
For my thirst dines on flu
Take the slopping path 
My heart waited longer than patience
Can i envy your smile
Its seen by many not me alone
I wish to color your dreams
With a range of roasted apples
If you tasted like wine
You could be the chained bottle to my wrist

. . . .

Mother

MOTHER

Mother lived alone in a different distant city
I had asked her to come and live with me
She said she‘d come when time would come
When from unfinished duties it’d make her free
I waited long hoping that time I’d someday see.

Mother didn’t come, couldn’t keep her promise
She had to answer some other call I didn’t realize
She now smiles in a framed photo I have on the wall 
Looking at me with the familiar glint in her eyes
That brightens my day when in the morning I rise.

When the morning isn’t so bright and the mind gloomy
I take a glassful of limy gin instead of cupful of coffee
Inebriated vision blurred I find the wall disappear 
From the picture frame mother comes out I can see
She says smiling she has come now to live with me.

I ask her why didn’t she come sometime early
I can’t talk, don’t know why I’m feeling sleepy.

March 2, 2018.

Don'T Buy It

Don't buy it,
Scatter the wishes,
However (desperate and maligned),
For all of them,
The (murmur) and the (mesmerized),
Youth-paid homage,
Ill-afforded, unattended and
Graciously subversive,
By aged animals nodding
Approval against the (backdrop)
Of their worst intentions,
Hope that eloquence, depth,
Perceived connection and
Immersions of familiarities
Will get everyone laid,
Plush boy smiles, admits his
Voyeurism needs polishing,
(Languishing),
Sip from scourge's
Crystal goblet,
Teardrops by the glassful,
Ah, the epiphany,
It's a gay quorum,
A foreign swath of fashion sense,
Pickled on the petunia,
The green, sunny willow,
Swaying, to drunken breeze,
And smiles, complacencies,
At least they have
The good (sense) and fortune,
Rouge, textured rhythms,
Bass-plucking fires,
Snapping horns dotting the air,
Straight mutes coddling
The wicked goods,
And snare and pound,
The beat drives straight,
No need getting off,
When you're on baby!

(6/27/05)

Granny's 12 Alarm Chili

You hadn't had any forewarning
as you take a spoonful of
Granny's 12 alarm chili,
not knowing its the
calm before the storm
as its about to set off an alarm,
when you take your 
first bite, you try to show delight,
as your inner thermostat soars
to solar flare like heights, 
you feel like your going through
menopause again as you feel
waves of hot flashes,
and then like a volcano you hear 
something rumbling as Mt. Derriere 
starts releasing its gasses,
but its not just you but Granny too
so you don't feel quite so bashful,
as you quickly guzzle down water,
glassful after glassful,
she is just beaming and feels glad
that your visiting her as you
toot-toot like a one woman band,
and then you think to yourself
I didn't know Granny was musically inclined
hearing different sharp and flat notes
coming from her behind,
and to get rid of the smell that you have to quell
you start opening a couple of windows,
all the while making a mental note
which says, remember next time to 
most definitely bring the beano!

Gift Rap

Be “blessed not stressed” yeah, that is the test,

Just a little bit o rest, that is my quest,

But the zest of the fest got me hard pressed,

There’s a pest in my breast, cardiac arrest,

My chest heavy like Mae West,

I confess, I’m distressed and a little depressed,

But I divest my unrest, priorities reassessed,

I request a glassful of the best, kindred spirits coalesced,

The fest repossessed with jest and all the best

Peace.

Bathful of Thoughts

After a trying day, I find
That a dip in the realms of poetrysoup
Is like a warm bath with bubbles around
So relaxing,, so reviving of the mind - 
Firstly I soap myself with words of others
Rinsing them off with a comment or two
Then I lie contented in a bathful of thoughts
Till it’s time to wrap myself in what I write too -
So IPad in hand I start to write
The words flow like ice cream on a warm night
Dare not stop to think, just write what comes next
For an aperitif, I read the words out loud to find
A glassful of Oh My’s follow the text
As I peruse the words that flowed so easily
Have to shell a few sentences along the way
The walnuts of knowledge sometimes go awry
I look at my effort, think hmm maybe yes ok
Can post this in poetrysoup wait for their says
See if this evening of laziness was what was required
That my walk in the words of poetry relaxed my brain.
In my bed, poetry free, now it’s time to start again



 03/03/2013

Glassful of Cheers

I pop the cork, smell the perfume
                                                the fragrance of grapes and
                                                   oranges, overwhelm me
                                                     nose  now twitching
                                                         taste  buds are 
                                                             salivating
                                                              It's time
                                                                   to
                                                                   s
                                                                   a
                                                                   y
                                                                merry
                                                             christmas.

A Cheesey Poem

Who discovered cows’ milk 
Is rather good to drink?
Who squeezed a cow’s appendage
And said ‘I’ll try a glass I think’?

Who then discovered cottage cheese
Who took a spoon and tried
A glassful of that gone off milk
Now solidified?

Who then discovered stilton?
They must have been quite bold
To try some of that gone off cheese
Now covered in blue mould.

Who then discovered cheese cake?
Who was the very first
To take the solid gone-off milk
And put it in dessert?

An Ode To a Genius "shauna Allebach"

1.
I have invited Shauna Allebach to a date to my table to drink wine,
She picks my flagon of rare ales and pours herself a glassful of wine,
Sweet lips hanging from her wine's glass's tip ,I'm so confined,
I see her creativity in a new design,
To my thoughts i resign,
Seeing intelligence in display on her every storyline,
"For iron sharpeneth iron" a true sign,
So true as "Saxon" eating swine;
 
2.
My arms akimbo,
My salient mind in limbo,
Anthony Edmond John picks up his quail, ink and this page,not a stumble;
Two sheets have I crumbled,
Still piecing together words to qualify M.Shauna Allebach,
For its for this genius i organise this praise rumble,
Our minds entwined making me humble,
My hands on this page see them fumble;
 
3.
I see you at the top no wonder,
Never let naive minds put your creativity asunder,
Nor let negative souls your inner you they plunder,
I give it up you! let the world feel your creative touch as a peel of thunder,
My darling, never forget Man with his blunders,
Be focused never look yonder,
Remember your pact as a literary saint,
In shades of gold do I adorn and bejewel you,
My crowned POETIC QUEEN.

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