Long Aperitif Poems
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Martial Translations
Coq au vin (Cook or wine)
by Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
1.
Hosts always invite you to dinner, Phoebe,
but are you merely an éclair to the greedy?
2.
Hosts always invite you to dinner, Phoebe,
but are you tart Amaro to the greedy?
Amaro is an after-dinner liqueur thought to aid the digestion after a large meal.
3.
Hosts always invite you to dinner, Phoebe,
but are you an aperitif to the greedy?
4.
Hosts always invite you to dinner, Phoebe,
but they’re pimps to the seedy.
Ad cenam invitant omnes te, Phoebe, cinaedi.
mentula quem pascit, non, puto, purus *****est.
You ask me why I love fresh country air?
You're not befouling it, mon frère.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
1.
You’ll find good poems, but mostly poor and worse,
my peers being “diverse” in their verse.
2.
Some good poems here, but most not worth a curse:
such is the crapshoot of a book of verse.
Sunt bona, sunt quaedam mediocria, sunt mala plura
quae legis hic: aliter non fit, Auite, liber.
He undertook to be a doctor
but turned out to be an undertaker.
Chirurgus fuerat, nunc est uispillo Diaulus:
coepit quo poterat clinicus esse modo.
1.
The book you recite from, Fidentinus, was my own,
till your butchering made it yours alone.
2.
The book you recite from I once called my own,
but you read it so badly, it’s now yours alone.
3.
You read my book as if you wrote it,
but you read it so badly I’ve come to hate it.
Quem recitas meus est, o Fidentine, libellus:
sed male cum recitas, incipit esse tuus.
Recite my epigrams? I decline,
for then they’d be yours, not mine.
Ut recitem tibi nostra rogas epigrammata. Nolo:
non audire, Celer, sed recitare cupis.
I do not love you, but cannot say why.
I do not love you: no reason, no lie.
Non amo te, Sabidi, nec possum dicere quare:
hoc tantum possum dicere, non amo te.
You’re young and lovely, wealthy too,
but that changes nothing: you’re a shrew.
Bella es, nouimus, et puella, uerum est,
et diues, quis enim potest negare?
Sed cum te nimium, Fabulla, laudas,
nec diues neque bella nec puella es.
Keywords/Tags: Martial, Latin, translation, epigram, hosts, dinner, meal, food, drink, wine, addiction, house, host, dessert
"Thoughts of a Sexual Nature"
Vivid thoughts of you,
in your birthday suit.
Sprawled on my living room floor,
anxiously you wait
for what you came here for.
Long toned legs,
a rippled mid-section.
I want to hear you beg,
you caused this ********.
Incense burn!!
Sex on the Beach
heightens the mood.
I allude,
to a massage.
A mental mirage,
a dream.
Vivid thoughts accrue,
as I knead your birthday suit.
skin like a rare passion fruit,
and I'm working for your nectar.
You're my aperitif,
and I have a sweet tooth
for your vermouth.
_________________________________________________________
Strumming your neck,
my tongue is the pick.
Hearing you moan lightly, "Oh your so thick."
So eager was the lass,
for me to.... hose down her fire.
You see, the blaze I intensified.
I knew her desires.
Slow down I pleaded,
hasten your pace!
We have all night baby,
and first base is my face.
I had overdosed on her Vermouth.
She poured without a care!
Enveloped in lusts rapture,
it was, to soon to conclude.
Ambiance is important, so I'll set the mood.
Red lights, mirrored headboard
& playing softly in the background,
a love songs
interlude!!!
_________________________________________________________
Soft moist lips lick you're ear
whispering words of delight
pursuing my plight for your might,
my tongue rolls down your neck
peck on peck,
as my goal unfolds
kissing chest nipples
your dimples of gold
tanned bronze like a god,
excitement,
ecstasy
extension to explode,
the ride enhances as liftoff begins
tastier than sins,
searing flesh on flesh emotions
enmesh juices of love in thrombosis,
in oceanic osmosis,
as we fall...
spent ...
content ...
in orgasmic opulence.....
"This is a collaboration written by three different poets... Starting with Me...
Samuel Brooks has the middle section, and Linda Marie Bariana concludes...
This turned out well and I am sure all of you will agree..
Jared Pickett---Asavvy1
Samuel Brooks----ChocolateWoW-------------------------1/27/2010
Linda Marie Bariana------Sweetheart
Cloudless the sky over beautiful water,
Sunlight at dawn as the day starts to break,
Open the blinds to let in the new day and,
Smile as the sunshine confirms they’re awake.
Croissants for breakfast with strong filter coffee,
Shower and dress to prepare for the day,
Get out the tourist guide, plan their adventure,
Join with the locals to make real their stay.
Walk in the countryside on a long ramble,
Visit a vineyard, high up in the hills,
Sample the product at end of the visit,
Several glasses, mop up any spills.
Boulevard cafes or old fashioned taverns,
Famous for seafood to try for their lunch,
What will their dinner be? guessing it’s chicken,
But not seen the menu, it’s only a hunch.
Shower for dinner, they’ll put on their glad rags,
Her in white dress, him in shirt and blue tie,
Orange juice, soup, they were right it’s then chicken,
Followed by cream on home made apple pie.
Wine with their dinner, they’re charging their glasses,
They had gin and tonic their aperitif,
Already they wonder what’s tomorrow’s dinner,
Will it be venison, pork, lamb or beef?
The dinner completed, a port or a brandy?
Or just filter coffee to wash it all down,
Only ten minutes to walk to the centre,
So now for a stroll to the centre of town.
Traditional bars full of tourists and locals,
A drink in a couple, it starts to go dark,
Chatting with bar staff about local venues,
Tomorrow they’ll go to a close water park.
Hand in hand stroll up the hill to the hotel,
A swift nightcap then in the nice hotel bar,
Up to the room to reflect on the first day,
And all the things that they’re enjoying so far.
Undress now for sleeping, the blinds closed til morning,
They lie down together and switch off the light,
The first day of holiday now is completed,
They’re so glad they came as they’re kissing goodnight.
The door locked behind them, their night is their own now,
The start of their holiday as they’d desired,
He holds her as she falls asleep on his torso,
His choice of this venue seems really inspired.
They swiftly are sleeping while leant on each other,
In love in this beautiful holiday place,
Tomorrow exploring more parts of the landscape,
No wonder they both sleep with smiles on their face!
Can intimacy be labeled as de trop?
I don't think. My sister offers me critique
Of such silly actions! But I still crave more!
Our nights together were just majestique.
Before heading out we take aperitif
By the pool, in the hotel's lavish court yard.
My rocky passion serves me as leitmotif
In my love life. It's my favorite play card.
Dine and talk. Perfectly at ease together.
I like so much wishing you "Bon appetit",
With you my soul is flying like a feather.
You are to me more than a mere novelty.
Feel beautiful in a body so petit.
Your touch is oh so tender. Deja vu?
Strangers are familiar. We finally meet,
In former life we must have shared rendez-vous.
After dinner we head out to cabaret.
You quickly organize an old school taxi.
You stare, you can't take your eyes off my décolleté
Feel incredibly desired, too damn foxy.
We're finally there. One kitschy place. Garçon
Slowly serves cheap red wine to every table.
No one on stage but loudspeakers play chanson.
You were school graduate as I'm in cradle.
We expected to see a show of avant-garde.
Would like to occupy the place of your protégé.
Wish of mine you note but simply disregard.
One day I'll dress exclusively prêt-à-porter.
Another caress of night we have in store.
Waiting in bed. Finally you knock. "Entrez!"
All night we'll listen to music of the shore.
Ready to welcome you inside. "S'il vous plaît"
Next morning, early rise and you have to leave.
Gave me sea shell and CD as souvenir.
Rest of my vacation I'm condemned to grieve.
Imagery of you streams softly like cashmere.
Too fast but it's time to wish you "Bon Voyage!".
Final heady breaths of your eau de cologne
I inhale. Hate hotel lobby's entourage.
Time to finish that book by Jerome Jerome.
Next five days I watch mind's movie-reverie
Of us together. Quite soon I'll be en route.
Miss you. Will I ever see you? C'est la vie!
Have a feeling that we said goodbye for good.
On the plane back home I write you, mon amour.
I hope you reach your so longed-for Shambala.
My poems about you are cri de coeur.
I'm home. New life is here. Oh là là! Voilà!
The Pleasure of your Company
is Requested
at
A Banquet in Celebration
of
The Big Picture of Life
to be Held at
Your Earliest Convenience
before
The Eleventh Hour
Appetizers will Include
a Cocktail of Bitter Tears
Garnished with Fresh Sprigs of Regret
and
a Light Melange of Personal Inflictions
Sauteed in a Rich Resentment Sauce
a Salad of Tossed Emotions
with
Sympathy Dressing
Will follow
a Tureen of Everything Anyone Ever Did to You
will Precede the Entrée
which will consist of a
Thick Fillet of Condemnation
Braised Over an Open Fire of Unforgiveness
Served with a Puree of Wistfulness
and
Garden Grown Indifference
Poached in a Whine Reduction
And Garnished with
Minced Crow
A Dessert of Humble Pie
and
Stifled Screams
Complimented by an Aperitif
of Flaming Foresight
will Conclude the Dinner
Dancing to the
Music of the Spheres
will Commence
in the
Bawl Room
where
Nightcaps of Resolve
will be Served
While ambling down the boulevard,
I spied a swanky canopy.
As member of the avant-garde,
The classy bistro suited me.
When greeted by the maitre'd,
I nonchalantly said, "Just one."
He smiled and nodded graciously.
My gourmand venture had begun.
As soon as seated, promptly pounced
A waiter dressed in gray and pink.
"My name is Jacques," the man announced
And asked what I prefer to drink.
I ordered an aperitif
And proffered menu then perused.
In panic mode, I thought, "Good grief!
It's all in French. I'm so confused!"
When Jacques returned, with easy air,
I asked what he would recommend.
When he'd advised the bill of fare,
My gaze did then the room attend.
A masterpiece of elegance,
So understated and refined.
No chandeliers nor opulence,
Artistic taste and chic combined.
Came appetizers, quite a few,
And tiny salads, each unique.
With wines and cheeses right on cue,
'Twas gourmet dining at its peak.
For entrees there were perfect meats
With succulence beyond compare.
Then followed some exotic sweets
And coffee quite extraordinaire.
While savoring a fine cigar,
I said their chef deserved to win,
For haute cuisine the best by far,
Another star from Michelin.
When mammoth check was given me,
I calmly said I could not pay.
"Though penniless, you must agree
You've gained a customer today."
Was booted roughly out the door
With expletives obscene and rude.
In gutter prone, a vow I swore
That for assault I'd have them sued.
I did, however, leave a tip
On seventh race next afternoon.
That Jacques should into savings dip
And bet it all on Silver Spoon.
As an aperitif to understand the essence of thought
Blood of a young tortoise touched my lips
Seldom as it is - pure ichor – I whisper’d in a trot
Let me get drunk on it while deifying the lunar eclipse
That is what I deserve, that is what I ought.
Is loneliness a hook up with the animalistic self?
Wearing an anorak to withstand the wind of banality
In the midst of a blizzard of an entrenched life
Giving the advantage to the senses of vitality,
Not more than Dido ripping her heart with a knife.
Give me the rise of an insurrection I dreamt about as a boy
A rebellion that would let principles be a judge,
This would surely deliver the desire for joy,
Or an uprising of the loyalists that won’t fudge
But will steer clear off temptations or a ploy.
As a grey fakir I paint a picture into a smudge,
Away from an aureate garden of gild
Into a desolate dryness of a scorch’d land
With my sole soul strongly willed
And a single stroke of my angry hand.
I wished to give tonality in sound and in colour
While being smitten by the freshly cut grass
All the riches will never appease the dolour
As I stand next to a window made of the Venetian glass.
Here I am, in justice I fall
Being accused of playing Pygmalion
Exalted to the throne of Gaslight and all
Given the heart on the platter as a medallion
Draining an amassment of turbulence
From the cluster of words that smack the gob
And remain in our ears as stubborn permanence
And I run, and run, and run, non-stop.
I am not a ball, after you’ve played
You just leave it somewhere on the ground,
Rolling to rest on its self.
I am not a food,
Or a Chinese aperitif, when ever
You don’t like, you leave it, untouched.
Neither, I am not worn clothing
When you need it, then it’s the only time
You remember it to wash.
I am your companion, day and night;
You caressed me, when you felt sad. I missed your touch;
O, do I have to bring your slipper now?
I gave you comfort, when you were down;
I’m really not an envious being, but
I hate your silent treatment, it makes me sick.
This is happening, every time you sit in solitude
A lousy pen, between your white teeth; and
You, in deep thought.
Why do you’ve to slave yourself, thinking?
Thinking of something outside your world;
I am here, your faithful one.
Always will be here, for you;
Even if you come home late, I recognize you;
Your manly smell lingers in my skin.
Before, we used to stroll together;
We played happily, lately, not so often
Why?
Gee, how selfish I am, I shouldn’t be asking you this;
I must understand, you are an aspiring poet; indeed
You needed time to be on your own, to write.
But if, you need me,
Just call my name, and
I’m ready and willing to serve you.
Thou, I’ve one favor for today, let’s play our favorite,
Throw the stick wherever you want, Master
And I’ll bring it back to you, with gladness.
Diner Pour Deaux Moi et Toi
(Dinner For Two Me and You)
I've laid a quilt on this stretch of beach,
the place where our romance had its start.
Where one night, I took your offered hand
The night I gave you my hand and heart.
Soft light from candles in lanterns on the ground.
Two glasses for the aperitif I'm about to pour.
We sip and gaze into each other's hungry eyes.
As rhythmic sounds of waves crash on the shore.
I've set the stage with the intent of seduction.
Let's start our late night feast with finger food.
Grapes I've peeled, and brie, our appe(teasers).
Sparkling white wine should add to the mood.
We'll share a cold crisp cucumber salad
With a light dressing made with mint.
I've kept it chilled just the way you like
In the hope you're getting the hint.
I've delicious little roast beef sandwiches
To place upon your tongue with my fingers
There's no need to hurry, my darling.
Love and dinner will be sweeter if we linger.
Is there room for my French apple pie,
topped with globs of cold whipped cream?
From the look I see in your green eyes,
You've caught on to my romantic scheme.
Let's take a walk behind the moonlit dunes
I've the notion we're ready for a little flirt
We won't be taking home the leftovers.
We'll have each other as tonight's dessert.
November 2, 2015
Eagle
Dalliance up above in the stratosphere,
Sailing stead in the smooth creamy cloud
Like the Almighty Angelic machine in Azure,
Like the beastly Griffin running missive among
stars.
Here is welcome to paradise!
Right through your phantom ushering
To a lounge that’s closest
To your favourite armchair in mind,
By some Damsels courtiers who truly have you in
hearts
And with courtesy courteously pamper you like
urchin.
Relax on board is the lullaby of the Nightingale,
Feel the elevating excitement like an arrow
Right through a warrior’s grip,
Throw over cumulus, air borne
Settle in and view over our victuals,
Mouth watering delicacy will find
Your appetite, not to mention the inducing
Aperitif,
We are on a journey to Bell Air,
The destination is to Xanadu,
We will arrive in Utopia
With connecting flight to Los Atlantis,
We trip the galaxies, but not the way to abyss,
Fly, fly,and fly into your widest dream
Fly aloft like an Aeronaut
Dream of an expedition to the moon
Discover shinning gold and crystal diamond
And when you have gathered a fortune
Land in ambience, accomplishing comfort,
Then taxi home
The experience is like you are just,
Right out of a bathtub.