Long Cocktail Poems
Long Cocktail Poems. Below are the most popular long Cocktail by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cocktail poems by poem length and keyword.
A fairyland fable is a magic table floating around but nit with a rallying cry. That is purely reserved for several synchronised cruise ships whose sunbathing missions thwart many a delivery driver. It is with great interest that an interest is neither a monetary aim at a bank or an inked out financial score singing a palate of possibilities. So go call the cat then. Go on. Meow meow. Dinner time. There you go. Fresh tuna is very scared now. Oh dear. And all the little flakes hard at work minced flesh in factories never really has a rest does it? Dilapidated dog during digging. And a great big wish from a ten thousand kilo cake is a celebrated glow in an outer solar sphere. Clap them all. Many cakes many spheres. Loud claps. And shouting at the mail is equivalent to eating beans on toast at several hundred miles an hour upside down in a bucket. It is in many weathers that a tall lanky snail circles a circuit in a rally car. Very very fast. Well done. There is a crown and a bursting champagne bottle whose antics on the plane were quite rude and non productive. However showering the podium with released bubble is quite a feat of engineering and requires precision mathematics too. So never ever become intoxicated if holding a compass, a text book, six lined sheets of paper, ten pencils and an organic cheeseburger with salad. Marketing making money moguls merry. And the swimming curry is out for the day in the lake occasionally resting on a Papadopoulos papadum boat who whips a papaya to create a cocktail. How rather quaint that is isn't it? How many radiuses are there in a pear? And how many tents can be made from a single pair of tights? These are highly significant questions to ask at a time when the antipepiscides are at the protest. Rioting. And tootling along the lane came a little green car whose plan was ever only to drink copious amounts of tea at the inn of then. Saviour not a sanctified secretion of a sweet set of stagnant striped silk. And enter no password of hi dee hi on a billboard for frames are allowing much to pass by over the cliffs. So watch out if carrying ten cars, a wobbly bus, and a twelfth century castle for it is the marksman who are marking a book from a diocese, a school and a university of agha banks. Couple that then. Great. Hahaha fantasy fig floating around hahaha banana bandana bringing bee balancing. Xxxxx metropolitans z
Form:
" Sci-Fi Bar Jokes & Riddles ... "
( 1 Tim. 1: 11)
(1.)
"Star Wars Bar ..."
A Jedi Knight and a Wookie, walk into a bar ...
The Jedi tells the bartender to keep the drinks coming.
Around dawn, when the Jedi is too drunk to think,
the bartender, then tells them both, its time to pay
their tab. Then the Jedi, turns to his buddy, the Wookie
and asks, "Do You Mind?"
------- ------- ------ -------
(2)
"Dune's Sand Bar ..."
On Arrakis, the desert planet known as Dune,
A Duke and a Baron, walks into a bar ...
Now, which one orders the biggest bottle of Mezcal?
------- ------ ------- -------
(3)
"The Matrix-Mixer Bar ..."
Neo and Morpheus, walk into a bar ...
On that night, every patron, gets their first drink free
Now, the selection is between two drink choices on
the list: They can choose either the 'Crimson Cocktail'
or the 'Blue Kamikaze' ... Which did Neo pick?
------- ------- ------- ------
(4)
"Stargate Symbol Bar ..."
Col. O'Neill and Teal'c, walk into the Stargate
and wine-up in a bar (he-he) ... in a world
very much like our own. While there, they
socialize with the locals, sample strange brews
and get very intoxicated. However, not to worry,
on this world, the bartender is used to visitors
who can't handle the native liquors ... So,
the bar has their own taxi, on standby
for such occasions. So he dials the cab.
But before the cabdriver comes, the taxi
has to be gased up. The question is:
"What gas station does he use?"
------- ------- ------- -------
(5)
"Barsoom/Mars' Whiskey Bar ..."
A Thern and a Thark, walk into a bar ...
They join John Carter, who was drinking Cutty Sark
and a Martini. Also there, is The Princess, who
sips on deja-blue water and a shot of Royal Crown.
The Thern, gives his order for a glass of Jameson & Gin
And the Thark, orders: Jim Bean and Jack Daniels
... and a Bourbon ... and a Beer
------- ------- ------- -------
(6)
"Star Trek's Hit The Deck"
As They Journey Into Darkness & Each Distant Star
Kirk & Spock Walks Into The Enterprize's Bar
And Tho' The Ship May Shake & Warp-Drive-Drop
Mr. Spock Keeps As Cool As A Glass of Ciroc
And Captain Kirk, Just Orders A Scotch On The Rocks
('Cause Scotty Takes Care of All The Enterprize's Stock)
------- ------- ------- -------
Poem/Jokes by: MoonBee
Form:
Suicidal Ideation March 30th, 2022 linkedin...
to mein kampf insync with mine body dysmorphia
After reading articles
published within April 4/11 2022
of The Nation
I challenged the efficacy
taking prescription medication
categorized as SSRIs
and/or SNRIs.
Unpleasant side effects
such as earth shaking dreams
and/or especially hefty weight gain
linkedin with former
comprising my daily cocktail
of approved prescription medication
courtesy nurse practitioner.
Deliberation about courting death rooted
throughout mine psyche
fueling sinister chortle
at least since bout with anorexia nervosa,
but... maybe ginned blood,
sans umbilical cord transfused in utero aortal,
though long since recovered, the intractable,
haunting specter, sans grim reaper
intertwining within every fiber of this mortal
rooted, grounded deep, and branched out
into each nook and cranny portal.
Said notion provoked,
when made painfully aware
youngest daughter (aged twenty three)
plagued with similar thoughts,
damn genetics did maliciously engineer
clutching telephone while
seated at edge of chair
did apologetically, despairingly,
grievously... did air
pestilential, penitential, plenipotential... scare
re: distraction and understandable fear,
she might unwittingly plunge
into hopeless abysmal despair
falling prey into irrevocable
deathly hallows lair,
though kudos for her
from me, this sole Harris heir
to communicate, (albeit
hesitantly) into mine ear
suddenly wishing thy
Shayna Punim to be near,
but residing (about three hour drive
southeast of Portland, Oregon)
with my kid sister, attentive to welfare,
a sibling whose persona
doth show tender loving care
and concern, this papa
felt reassured there
would be every action taken
with sixth sense to beware
lest progeny exhibits
pointedly obvious lurching career
dramatic slide in tandem
with Old Rotten Gotham
into behavioral sink
emergency measures sibling
immediately would commandeer,
hence somewhat relieved thee dear
beloved progeny receptive to hear,
this dada expressed his unconditional love,
and grateful psychological intervention
offspring boldly did declare
indicative professional help volunteer
really asserted necessary to stave off
how dice throw of fate unfair
to said lass, whose demise,
would abruptly kill this sonneteer!
My New Fusion Song
My Lyrical composition is based on the universal teachings
of Love & Brotherhood for All.
It is a cocktail of Hindi - English - Sanskrit
Theme - Politeness (Hindi Namrata) or Modesty
Nam Ho*, Namra bano* Namrata ki Jai Ho*
Nam Ho, Namra bano, Namrata ki Jai Ho
Nam Ho, Namra bano, Namrata ki Jai Ho
Nam Ho, Namra bano, Namrata ki Jai Ho
Namrata ki Jai Ho, Namrata ki Jai Ho
Nam Ho, Namra bano, Namrata ki Jai Ho
Jai Ho, Jai Ho Jaya Ho, Jai Ho, Jai Ho,
Jaya Ho, Jaya Ho, Jai, Jai, Jai, Jai Ho,
(Hindi lines)
Nam Ho, Namra Bano, Namrata ki Jai Ho
Bhed bhaav, bin gale lagaao
Sb par hi sneh lootaao
Fir dekho kaise, hain, bhar detin,
Khushiyaan, Daaman ko
Be polite and Be Modest - Let your Modesty win the Hearts.
There is only one Earth,
Only one life, everyone get on Earth
Give love to everyone,
Without difference and distinction
See then, how you would be filled
With the joys and pleasures of life.
Nam Ho*, Namra bano* Namrata ki Jai Ho*
Nam Ho, Namra bano, Namrata ki Jai Ho
Nam Ho, Namra bano, Namrata ki Jai Ho
Jai Ho, Jai Ho, Namrata ki Jai Ho,
Namrata ki Jai Ho Jai Ho,
Namrata ki Jai Ho Jai Ho, Jaya Ho,
Jai Ho*, Jai Ho, Jaya Ho*,
Jai, Jai, Jai, Jaya Ho.
Sanskrit Sloka
Na kaschid api jaanaati (Namrata Ki Jai Ho)
Kim kasya shwo bhavishyati (Namrata Ki Jai Ho)
atah shwa karanee yaani (Namrata Ki Jai Ho)
kuryaadd dyeva buddhi maan (Namrata Ki Jai Ho)
Meaning of the above Sloka:
Nobody knows what is going to happen tomorrow. Therefore, wise men finish their daily job same day itself and do not keep it for tomorrow.
Ravindra K Kapoor
30th Oct. 2014
Currently at Vindhyanagar M.P India
NOTE: This lyrical composition is protected under the Copy writes
provisions of Poetry Soup as per US rules.
Meaning of Hindi words:
Nam Ho* = Be Polite
Namrata* = Modesty
Jai ho* = Let it win
Jaya Ho* = same as Jai Ho
Namrata ki Jai Ho* = Let Modesty win
ODDS OF LOVE
Sometimes the heart can act strangely
And random emotions can lead to mistakes
And a moment of vulnerability
Can result in unnecessary heartbreaks
But sometimes the heart wants what it wants
Even though you know it's not guaranteed
A heart can lead you down a winding road
And if try to slow it down, it would only pick up speed
Sometimes the ride is worth the risk
It's like taking a chance in the lottery
You could either blow a tire around the corner
Or find success and glory
But you didn't expect too much anyway
Because you can't see beyond your eyes
Because many times we think its the truth
Even though we know there are potholes filled with lies
I took that wild ride once a long time ago
And I never got to reach the end
So in the middle of my journey
I accept that its better to just have her as a friend
You dont always get what you love
And you don't always love what you get
And if you are not careful with your moments
It could turn into years of regrets
The time that could have been used wisely
We let our hearts lead the way
Knowing 75% of darkness is waiting
But the glimmering hope of finding something keeps us saying " one more day"
Just one more day
Love is very complicated for some people
And some people don't deserve to be loved
Some people would treat their partners badly,
A good person in today's corrupt world should be considered an angel from above
I tried to bring love into my life
But my heart pulled a blank
It went following a lead
And comes back with an empty tank
The wasteful time I think
But to my heart, it was time well spent
I could scale the walks to her love
So I just settled on having a friend
When the rain falls
It doesn't fall in one place forever
A little patience is needed
Because there got to be a change of weather
A little adventurous twist
You never know the outcome
It could land you the love of your life
Or leads you to a bottle of rum
That's why chances are made to be taken
And hearts are designed to be broken
And martinis shouldn't be stirred but shaken
And love is a word that should not be easily spoken
I keep my lips sealed for now
With my emotions mixed up like a fruit cocktail that was just blend
I didn't ask to win her love today
So for now she is just a friend
A baby gorilla's bedtime is a harmonic period when the bananas line up with little leaf rattles to softly croon to slumber the furry ball. Priceless is the process of pacification and pacifications are not prevalent in the pacific, the polar regions, nor do they play with piñatas in Paraguay. It is to be said that a tortoise shell footstool can rotate at great speeds do cast iron boots must be worn if placing one's feet upon the tapestry printed square form. The chime of lime is very very noisy but not as noisy as the incessant chatter and chuckling from the bowl of sugar cubes. Sugars state signalling shaped saying stuff silkily and silly too. But a mild mannered oxon could take a heifer to a ballroom but only if properly attired in a beach towel, sun glasses, three piece suit and a gown. Then an entrance can be made. With a thud. And a bellow. Brass bands made of cream donuts can entertain at this dance and the hall is quite packed with skimming skirts, scantily clad pea women, and the tidal spore has come dressed as a ringmaster but no whip for whips are for the underground stations and platforms of legs. Legality leaves legs lingering liberally. Akin to sprinkling a fine spray of salt across a plate of the towering vegetables. Piled high. Architectural really. Very mesmerising is the mist of a fine diner whose aroma lifts the air surrounding with a unjust uniquely identifiable stench. And stench drenched can be a wench, a bench but never a welk. For welk belong in tree houses and tree houses are not tables and not talking ash trays either. Ash trays do not modify a month of moon shaped mammoths. And a tree semi formed can bite so always walk very very very briskly when passing a thicket. Zoom then. Go on zoom. A zoom in a room. How rather entertaining and entertainment is equal to a climbing plant pot scaling a sky scraper. How great. Such feat with no feet. And how deserving of the medal at the Olympics of Oscar fish in an oceanographic weave of seafood cocktail with melon jus. Haha the wide mouthed octopi are singing gospel tunes to a small party of crabs. Ha the divinatory dogs diving definition digging dreams. Ha the musical mustard jar moving in time to the fish fork forte. Xxxxxx reciprocal z z z zzz. At ten loaves to forty seven slices of butter cake. Z z z z z z. 57294894907398%. Z
Form:
i tried to notice without noticing.
i tried to fit in by not standing out,
but i knew i was different.
their walls much bigger.
their yards much nicer.
in elementary it seemed everyone
was in the same class: lower class,
but this was junior high across town,
on white burb avenue
and i was poor.
they weren't.
of course i resisted.
i mixed and matched the clothes i had
as if i was a designer preparing
for the new season.
they let me into their world
for a little while.
i hung out in huge basements,
chilled in hot tubs with bikini clad young hotties,
taking part in all the gossip.
until my illusion wavered
and they slowly pulled back--
as my clothes got holes in them,
as my shoes wore down,
as i grew out of all i had gotten
that one time my mom took me school shopping.
goodbye, Stephanie Bach.
goodbye, Anne Murry.
goodbye, Lori Larson.
years later i would remember them
at the most inopportune moments--
drunk in a dive bar in Harlem
talking to an ugly girl i was thinking about doing,
in the dirty bathroom of a crack house before i
put the pipe to my lips,
in line at the welfare office.
i think i was bitter for a while,
thinking about how they all probably owned homes
not far from each other and how they would
throw little upscale cocktail parties
around the holidays and kiss each other
on both cheeks when they greeted
but at the same time trying to stay hip by listening
to commercial rap and sexy pop music in their suv's.
yeah, bitter
drunk, and very early in the morning,
i came across a tiny neighborhood jazz bar
where a trio group had their hands
on the heads of everyone and was shaking them
to the electric sounds of their primitive instruments.
a boxing gym had less bobbing and weaving
than that jazz bar on the corner of 106th and broadway.
cats were healing up in the place that night.
my head was going ten rounds while my eyes were closed
when those girls popped up only for a second,
but they didn't fit the scene,
so for the first time, i felt sorry for them
before i forgot about 'em.
later, outside, the sign that said 106th st.
had another one below it that read
duke ellington boulevard
i stared at it, making room for a new memory.
goodbye, Stephanie Bach.
goodbye, Anne Murry.
goodbye, Lori Larson.
The year was 1956
and I distinctly recall
my mother's lovely face
as she told me
Szererlek (I love you)
and as I seen her lovely smile
I remember her face
as she held back bittersweet tears
tying to hold the impression
that everything was alright and I
as a youth did not fully
comprehend the situation
going on at the time.......
I asked my mother
Anyu , miért sírsz ? (Mother, why are you crying?)
and she replied....
Ez semmi fiam , én rendben lesz
(It's nothing my son, I will be alright)
all while hearing the rough and
very bitter voice of my father say......
Nidia , te ribanc ! hol vagytok ?!
(Nidia, you whore! where are you?!)
all while she bitterly weeps
going to his side again, once more
in his violent tone he says......
Nidia , te kurva ! hol van az italom ?!
(Nidia, you ***** ! where is my drink?!)
all while she wept quietly
going to the refrigerator
and getting his stale
cognac and bitter wine
all while these two drinks
have not even gotten cold yet......
She serves him the drinks
he spits them out, get's up
and says.....
Te hülye kurva !, akkor soha semmit van!
(You stupid whore!, you could never do anything right!)
as again I see daddy, giving mommy
one of his usual love taps
a punch to the stomach
and a slap to the face
all to match the black eye
she has already received.....
It is 12:00 at night
I lay in my bed......
mommy kisses me goodnight
and she says in a soft, calming whisper
Ez semmi fiam , én rendben lesz
(It's nothing my son, I will be alright)
all while daddy was asleep
in the other room, knocked out from
having his usual
cocktail of painkillers,
stale cognac and bitter while
this time...... it was cold
Mommy tucks me in
kisses me on the forehead
cuts off my lights
and says.... jóéjt fiam (goodnight my son)
I..... still awake, and with
the inability to slumber
I sneak out my bedside
and witness in my mothers
hands, the Ak-47 assault rifle
that my father had stole
during the Hungarian revolution......
My father (who was knocked out)
was unaware of what was staring
at him in the face......
and my mother......
with her hand on the trigger
says in her melancholy voice......
ez a vég.....(this is the end.....)
and puts a bullet through his head.....
Serenade Me, Julius La Rosa
His striped tie has a green tint color
And his hands are dark and bulging with blood.
I can see them gripping the steering wheel like parrot talons.
I can see from all the way up here
That one of his fingers has a golden wedding ring,
And he just sits there in that Studebaker
Looking up at my apartment window,
Like I’m some freaking captive locked in a high tower,
And he’s my guard, my sentinel,
Making sure I do not escape.
“Hey you! Yeah you! I’m talking to you!
Oh? You have a problem with me seeing the blond bombshell?
The one with the face that launched a million ejaculations?
The face that burned the topless towers
Of a million American households?”
Now he has a cigarette going inside that sleek automobile.
It’s dangling from his lips
Like a big white toothpick from Scully’s.
The Los Angeles Mirror,
The front page,
Rests forlornly on the passenger seat.
I can even see the headlines from up here –
Something about an execution,
Julius and Ethel R.
Serenade me, Julius La Rosa!
Sing to me now! ‘Eh, Cumpari!’
It’s 1953 and all’s well in the world.
There shall be a tiki torch in every back yard!
“A cocktail? Here, have mine.
I’m well stocked here in my Kasbah.
Now, sweetheart, what were you going to say?”
“When I dance with you,
I feel like I’m in Paris by the Seine,
Dancing in technicolor with Gene Kelly.
You have wonderful moves and a very masculine touch,
And I can almost hear Gershwin music,
Way off in the distance.”
“By the way, my darling Norma Jeane, who taught you to dance?”
“To be honest, my mother.
It was an emergency situation, I had a hot date, so…”
And now we are sashaying on my torn and tattered carpet,
With Perry Como crooning ‘No Other Love’ on my Hi Fi,
Over there in the dark corner.
The lights of the Big Enchilada
Glisten outside my lone window
Like a million incandescent candles
That burn with lust for us.
“Hold me closer.
I need to feel your warm blood.
I need to breathe in your luscious sweet cologne.
Mmmmmm. Kiss me.”
“I will kiss you.
I will kiss you long and I will kiss you very hard.
But first, my darling, why not some Rachmaninoff,
The second piano concerto,
Instead of Perry Como?”
“No Piggy.
Locked in your arms I’ll stay.
Waiting for you to say,
No other love have I.”
My cat is a rescue me,
The abandonment of loneliness
He had his Forever Home promise
My love and affection were his.
See, he turns out to be,
Complete contentment we shared
Mutual grounds in battles, here
We did not care and laughed.
My cat was very special to me:
He was all that I had in this world.
He did love me a bunch, you see;
I loved him back even more
With this punch, I had shown.
He gave me a reason to live;
He started to grow and give
He greeted me every morning
He gave me his meow-to gear.
Until he was watered and fed;
He weighed twenty-five lbs
He was this big boy, instead!
As he was growing up:
I taught him to Box, indeed
Yes, you read that right, I say
I taught Mischief how to Box.
He would get up on his hind legs,
He gave a pawing jab
With his pawing punch
It is true he could Box.
Mischief grew over the years,
And we always had fun in tears
He had come to a spot in his life
It was our saddest one, we feared.
June 30th was the day;
Independence was here
He was playing around in the house
He lay under the air, basking him.
Then he came to the room,
He wanted to take a nap
Up in the window, he went
Not knowing it would be his last stint.
Then the next thing I knew,
He was dragging his legs
He cried with a bellowing pain in his voice
Mischief had a stroke that day.
In such a heartbreaking way,
For this cat to bear
I needed to relieve his pain.
I left him there for the night,
He was under sedation
I collapsed, walking away
He gave me such a fright.
July 1st came in,
He looked at me with a thirst
Then he kissed my hand, that he knew
And laid in my lap
We Loved Blue.
He wanted up to my shoulders,
Then give me this
One Lasting Hug
The vet had his cocktail treat waiting,
My Mischief Lotus,
Departs
Now He sleeps!
Oh, my heart aches for you;
Of the agonized pain he suffered
That bellowing, hurtful cry,
He is Free,
Now He Flys!
I know this grieving here will pass,
In its time indeed.
Rest In Peace,
My Lil Buddy
I Love You
One More Last Time!
"A tribute to the sorrow that brings us
the strength of undying love,
prevailing its light."
~ William Darnell Sr
R.I.P. Mischief Lotus Darnell
My love to you!
August 2017-July 2022