Anyone can become a poet,
Drinking cognac for love,
Visit the Palace of Versailles,
Thinking about Lucille’s jewelry,
To remove her black blouse.
If he doesn’t meet his muse,
He will wander ten years in California,
In the plains of the Serengeti,
He will wander in the museums
will remove Lucille’s blouse
To meet her black gaze,
He will drink three glasses of liquor,
Anyone can become a poet.
Chacun, peut devenir un poète,
Boire du cognac par amour,
Visiter le château de Versailles,
Penser au bijoux de Lucille,
Pour ôter son chemisier noir.
S’il ne rencontre sa muse,
Il errera dix ans en Californie,
Dans les plaines du Serengeti,
Il errera dans les musées
ôtera le chemisier de Lucille
Pour croiser son regard noir,
Il boira trois verres de liqueur
Chacun, peut devenir un poète.
I know a lady who is 99 years aged
she will be 100 by winter
Every day she walks to the disused post office
- an hour each way
Eats, drinks healthily ...
and does all the housework herself
Even in the garden she is diligent
You should have seen her roses
In the evening she has a glass of port wine
and a piece of chocolate liqueur
It gives her a peaceful night's sleep
- without medicine
1 cup of sprite
1/2 cup of almond liqueur
2 c sugar
1/2 teaspoon of salt
1 teaspoon of cinnamon
1 cup of almonds
1 tablespoon almond extract
4 cups of sliced strawberries
bring to a simmer form a syrup set aside
pie dough or sugar cookies rolled into disc
add 1 strawberry
1 dollop of cream cheese
sprinkle on some almonds
fold into a ball tucking the corners
add to strawberries seams faced down.
simmer to done
or remove and add to a steamy colander and boiling pot of water
serve with strawberry mixture
and icecream. and white choicalate shavings
Nisus and Euryalus: insisted them all to be older than 25 the age of
the matured voice. There they could "fach" without worrying who they offended. Some ultra conservative persons
found them to be the words used to describe or the words that ushered in uncomfortable conversations
"mention the ***** divorce is near
say your dike friend is as freindly as
a yak
tell the story of bridled glory and they
will say you need to see a quack"
I must admit I liked the fit
Swigg and Liqueur
a formal agreement
Strang: Guirtar Strangs thats
the thang Profundo due yo' thang!"
VIOLET GRAPE PURPLE ENVELOPE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
violet grape-purple envelope
waiting in drawer’s dim hush.
unsent letters breathing deep
holding whispers and promises.
secrets folded sharp as grief,
fermenting like forgotten liqueur.
the scent of longing and fine wine.
Sealed.
Come be merry
on the streets of the French quarter.
Come be merry,
plum liqueur and praline whiskey.
We’re the oldest brick and mortar,
drink and have an appetizer.
Come be merry.
From this angle the bushes do not conceal them.
Are they hinged or unhinging?
Each body is a prison gate for the other,
both seem stuck together by a pungent lip spit.
Feathering fingers pulse-play over gulping skin.
Greedy eyes zoom in,
unbuckling muscles sift and trowel,
modelling the creaming and palpable.
This public act despoils the evening
yet it also sweetens.
I feel the need to rut,
to suck inward all this carnality,
to sup upon this liqueur of spiced flesh,
even though my cupped hands
remain regretfully or not,
unsullied.
The badger entering the underground labyrinth
it is impossible to discover the stars at night
In the drowsy dark caves of the mind
trying to maintain the truth safe in the memory
Clouds, slowly suffocate my courage
While sipping the liqueur of bitterness
Unspoken words die on the tongue, as seasons come and pass
Ghosts in dirty rags
Wounded feelings, in the shadow of the evening
Forgive me, with the scent of lilies to sweeten the path of life
The future belongs to those who believe in their dreams
Field of forgiveness gives love renovated splendor
From darkness, to flower - in the embrace of harmony
"Ralphie, Big Yellow. Ralphie, get up here it's Big Yellow!"
"I'm not as excited about Big Yellow as you are. I've made this quite clear."
"But the STOP! The STOP, Ralphie! We made a bet!"
"Brendan, I'm not gonna sit here and bet over people's lives."
"Holy hazelnuts, Ralphie! It's nearly here. One stop away!"
"I refuse to participate. These are human children."
"Last night you bet me no one would ever run the STOP."
"That was the walnut liqueur talking."
"Did you see that?"
"What?"
"That car went right past the STOP!"
Breaking ranks through the branches
They jumped across rows of trees.
There maple brown fuzz now rejoined,
Brushing against each other in the
Early angling sunlight.
Squad car sirens took to the air.
"Ya see that, Ralphie! Someone DID run the STOP!"
"With all those children."
"With all those children."
"But Ole Blue took care of it.
"Yes they did."
"I'm going back to sleep."
"The city bus comes thru in couple minutes."
"Good-night."
"It's MORNING TIME!.....
...
...
sorry for yelling."
When the light dims
The man in the lunch café drank 3 tall glasses of wine
he spoke loudly trying to draw attention to himself
not that I'm an expert, but he was, clearly divorced and
on holiday on his own.
After his meal, which he didn't eat much of
had coffee and a liqueur, not having anyone to talk to, he fell
silent, looking sad, perhaps he had children, but he was not
allowed to see, that some women can be vengeful
As the café emptied, I felt I had to say something, but
my wife stopped me, saying you can't get rid of him
I know how lonely life can be, no one wants to know
you are an embarrassment to others
To be middle-aged and alone is not easy the happy
days of youth is over, the bell rang and clear this morning
when I tried to contact a childhood friend he has
Alzheimer, he didn't know who I was.
I fell in love with a Drunken Poet
When with light My Grail He fills
Lyrical Creativity intercourse with pen and paper spill
With Rhymes and reasons salutations
Filled so full, Colorful My imagination
Drunken poetry obliteration
He drinks sooo much, his touch Intoxicating
Slurry words with breath of sweet Rum
Penetrating and Pouring light until I succumb
He woos with words and stirs Me up
I have gotten addicted to his Liqueur syrup
Transporting my mind to Celestial Bliss
Overflowing with every Drunken Kiss
Drunk in Love, my heart Enshrined
Top shelf Libation pours, He wants me to Shine
He slurred" let go baby, I'm yours, You're mine"
I got sooo drunk, couldn't hold My liquor
Fondled My Pen, vomit on paper
He slurred, " Go on baby, it's best for your liver"
Now my speech is liquored sweet ingredients to my potion
Drunken poetry creative recreation.
Shout out to Elliott Bowe>>>creator of drunken poetry.
Laughter
Laughter knocks on the doors of tragedy selling snake oil.
Its remedy has no cure,
but the symptoms from consuming its liqueur are delightful.
There are all sorts of laughter.
My favorites are the giggle,
a subtle and private revelation of jiggling jello,
and the barrel roll
that takes over everything like a stampede of elephants from a circus.
Whichever laughter you enjoy most,
be it the snort,
the snort with an accidental backfire,
or even a donkey bray,
enjoy a bit of laughter today,
because life is serious,
but it's worth enjoying.
by Martin Braun
October 6, 2023
She danced into my life three years ago
as if she'd been born with Angel wings.
My granddaughter, Eloise; a star aglow,
twirling in a ballerina skirt as she sings...
words of Taylor's song, "I'll write your name."
Summer was filled with playing house for us,
and a visit two blocks away to a Snowball stand.
For Elle, it was never a decision to make a fuss
of a flavor to choose as we walked, hand in hand.
She only cared about which color. It was a game.
The painting I posted was from a photo of her
sitting on the shelf as her blue ice treat was made.
Days spent with Eloise are like a sweet liqueur,
and the bond of affection we share will never fade.
She has a baby sister, Grace. I love just the same.
sHE STOOD PROUD
SMILING.
HER FACE AS
BEAUTIFUL AS HER
STYLIST ALLOWED.
ONE SPOKE
i DON'T KNOW WHY,
BUT IT IS jULY IN 2024
WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?
THEN SHE SAID
IN HER NAITIVE TOUNGE
SOMETHING THAT PUZZED ME
SINCE. SHE SAID:
"ELLE PORTAIT UN
COSTUME DE CORPS
AUX TONS CHAIR:
AVES UNE CINQUIEME
BOUTEILLE DE LA
LIQUEUR GAY
SUR L'ETIQUETTE.
c'ETAIT JUSTE SUR
ELLE
SWIG - SWAGGLER!"
Blackberries are juicy and sweet
And very delicious to eat.
For me though, I think,
Are those I can drink-
Blackberry liqueur is my treat!
July 29, 2022
Contest: Your Thoughts on Blackberries
Sponsor: Matt Caliri
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