Long Cup of tea Poems
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I’d rather have tea than coffee to drink,
When I am asked, I just don’t have to think.
It’s one of the things I ‘decide’ everyday,
Or is it, let’s see, Is it really that way?
I feel habits form, then they get in the way,
The fact we don’t think, makes our choices each day.
Surely things change, and we never should say,
We’ve decided for ever what game we will play.
Religion, our taste buds, our politics, ‘name’.
I’ve made up my mind, they will all stay the same,
It saves me from thinking and gives me no pain,
Not having to dwell on these things once again.
Should I keep repeating, "that’s what I believe",
Or consider new options by things I perceive?
It may mean more often, I have to ‘decide’,
Which path I should take, or which way I should ride.
I’m certain that this will make me quite unsure,
Just where I am going, if I reach a new door.
My habits were forcing me, so was my pride,
To continue, just ‘one way’ on my mindless ride.
I guess in the future a new man you’ll see.
I hope he’s much wiser, and better than me.
I must get that drink now, ‘a nice cup of tea’?
No… I’ll sample the coffee and set my soul free!
Ivor G Davies
LUCID MOMENT
She didn’t know who I was again,
When I saw her in that home today.
She looked at me with dull, unseeing eyes.
Those eyes that used to sparkle like a million stars
When I saw her in that home today,
She hurled her cup of tea at me.
Those eyes that used to sparkle like a million stars,
Full of fear from some dark memory inside.
She hurled her cup of tea at me.
How she would have hated knowing what she’d done.
Full of fear from some dark memory inside,
Obliterating fifty years of love we’d shared.
How she would have hated knowing what she’d done.
A helpless victim of that cruel disease.
Obliterating fifty years of love we’d shared.
“I love you so much, Bill,” she whispered
A helpless victim of that cruel disease.
Then, suddenly, that precious lucid moment came
“I love you so much, Bill,” she whispered.
My heart soared; then the moment disappeared.
So suddenly that precious, lucid moment went.
She looked at me with dull, unseeing eyes.
My heart had soared, then the moment disappeared.
She didn’t know who I was again
25th January 2021
Proud Pantoum Poetry Contest
Sponsor -Caren Krutsinger
BLONDE – ABSENT MINDED OR FAIR?
CLIENT
Goodness, gracious me,
Come over here and see,
How did you dare,
You have no flair,
My hair now’s dark,
It should be fair,
You’ve cut too much,
Let go don’t clutch,
I asked for just a trim,
You said your name is Kim?
Kim, you’ve made a mess,
I must confess.
I wanted fair and long,
Hello –ding dong!,
Can’t you even hear,
My absent minded dear,
My color’s on,
But now you say that some,
Colors do not take,
Don’t tell me you’re a fake!
You offer me a cup of tea,
But all you brought was cold coffee,
And now it’s time to rinse,
But your phone rings, its Prince,
My colors on and burning,
I’m going bald,
And all because Prince called!
You check your watch, you’re sorry,
And tell me not to worry,
But my hair has almost gone,
When I walked in here it shone,
Now I have to buy a wig,
This my husband will not dig!
You even want me to pay,
For having been treated this way,
Oh goodness gracious me,
I step out for the world to see,
What you have done to me!
ANSWER FROM A DISGRUNTLED EMPLOYEE
Well, let me tell you Mrs. Tea,
I tried my best,
But you put me to the test,
I want it short, no keep it long,
I held my tongue in order to,
Be strong,
You want it dark and then
Quite fair,
How did I dare,
To take you on,
For I am not a con!
And if Prince decides to ring,
He’s the most important thing,
That has ever come my way,
In my dreary job of little pay,
I’m sure that I’ll be fired,
But am absolutely,
Sick and tired,
Of answering to every whim,
I’ve had a grim
Few weeks, so if you want to leave,
I do not care and will not grieve,
In fact I’ll say so long,
My dear,
Don’t ever take a step,
Near here.
EAVESDROPPER
Ladies please shut up,
We have heard quite enough,
Of this awkward conversation,
Goodness what a situation,
I have to however say,
That after today,
Kim, I will never dare,
To let you do my hair,
For you are both unfair.
And as for you Mrs. Tea,
Even if a got a hairdo free,
I would never again come near,
If either of you are still here!
This is a childhood story
story of my teacher's face,
so prominent in my memory
his dense bushy mustache.
Story of my teacher's face
covering half of his upper lip,
his dense bushy mustache
it was black,drooping and deep.
Covering half of his upper lip
a pleasant surprise for me,
it was black,drooping and deep
nesting a fly after his cup of tea.
A pleasant surprise for me
everyday at the same time,
nesting a fly after his cup of tea
sneaking frequently in my mind.
Everyday at the same time
the fly was used to be busy,
sneaking frequently in my mind
overlooking it was not so easy.
The fly was used to be busy
my teacher never felt its presence,
overlooking it was not so easy
for me it was a disturbance.
My teacher never felt its presence
the busy fly on his mustache,
for me it was a disturbance
I wanted to give it a thrash.
The busy fly on his mustache
so prominent in my memory,
I wanted to give it a thrash
this is a childhood story.
© kashinath karmakar (8th July 2011)
===========================
“When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.”
Kahlil Gibran
Please do not put
too much sugar
in your cup of tea.
Try to live
every moment to the fullest.
None is there to pity. Nothing is free.
Did I know you then?
Did I learn my lesson?
An Important one? A ‘Priori’?
Another dawn will arrive soon.
A promise of a new beginning…
With the pain of hunger and loss.
In a world of the confiscated living.
Did you know me then?
Did you remember something?
Of life and longing?
Please do not rush, anyway...anymore.
The sun was hot, and not a cloud
was in the sky; it was not good,
for all the day, the boy had ploughed
the sod the way a big boy should
for his dad to be so proud.
So hot was he! Oh, if he could
get a sip of tea. Not allowed,
he did his job but understood
tea for him was at the finish.
To end the job was his big wish.
For now, he’d sit and eat his fish.
At the end of his job, he
sat and had a BIG cup of tea,
and it was so heavenly!
For the Funom's Sonnet Contest of Funom Makama
THIS IS not MY creation. I am quoting here the words of Funom Makama:
The Funom's Sonnet consists of 14 lines, each line made up of 7/8 syllabic word count. The rhyme pattern is in this form
a-b-a-b,a-b-a-b,c-c-c,d-d-d.
The major unique feature of this new kind of sonnet is its words. Apart from the rhyming words, all other words in this poem should consist of not more than three letters.
There was a naughty girl, and the naughty girl was she
She worked a crossword puzzle, while she had her cup of tea
Poured another cup, ......she should get up!
for chores and roll her sleeves
She had much work to do, but her good intentions flew
like feathers in a breeze
Instead of mops and brooms, she would sing a cheery tune...
while she danced around the room..
Sudsy dish pans full....but Mother Nature pulled
her to the sunshine for a stroll
Her bed unmade, her bills unpaid,
But instead she picked a daisy
Beneath a sunny sky
......she heard the lullaby
of the birds that sing on high
She had meals to cook
but would rather look
at the snowtop hills nearby
So much work undone, and the dinner?......NONE!
But she fed her soul instead!
_______________________
For Linda Marie's Contest "I Am Bored With _______
By Carrie Richards
9 Am, You wake. Not to be at work so you wont be late. No, but to put your fist up not to pray, But to go toe to toe with a enemy that never goes away. Arms and legs feel like concrete, The spinel cord is shot with a steel rode. Eyes red and lids weigh a ton, the deep breath you take knowing youre up before the sun.
Steps taken to the kitchen for those who dont drink coffee, each step disconnecting the roots and chains from the bed. Screams from your throat fall on dreaf shoulders, eyes roll and the list gets longer. Hugging your cup of tea lile the only light you see. Many things keeps your hands busy, hobbies that have been built around your cloud. Washing your face and brushing your teeth, make sure youre presentable to the world. Bed, blanket, pillow and sleep. These things you say to yourself on repeat.
You took your meds, you do your chores, you clean the place and your mind is saying "IGNORE THE SORES AND LOSE THIS WAR!" You shrug it off and keep moving, the things that makes you happy are being done. But before you can blink, the sky is dark and the day has ended. Exhausted and feeling guilty, " you didnt do anything! " you mind makes you aware of the things you didnt do. But you know as soon as you get to sleep you know the plan, to get up and fight again at 9am.
There is a phrase A Piece Of Cake
That goes against the ones I make
Not an easy task for me to do
Often end up with burnt mess or goo.
I start by reading all the instructions
Then gather items from recipe introduction
So far, so good, A Piece Of Cake
But time will tell when I finish this bake.
Next weigh out the ingredient things
Flour, sugar, butter and mixed string
Double take check, read list again
Silly old me it was a mixing machine.
Cream butter and sugar add in the flour
This took me well over an hour
Add the eggs, in fell some shell
Oops! oh dear, please don't tell.
Mixture placed equally in two lined tins
Popped into the oven for twenty mins
So good, so far, A Piece Of Cake
Time for a sit, a cup of tea break.
Taken out from the oven, did the knife test
I was so shocked this cake was the best
Put it all together, finished off my bake
Minor issues this time, A Piece Of Cake.
Some things in life can be easy to achieve
Harder for others or harder to believe
Never give up just keep trying to be
This is what this phrase means to me.
(And you'll soon have your Piece Of Cake like me.)
Motto Matters Poetry Contest
Sponsor Natasha L Scragg
Written 17.09.21
The days melt a panting clock,
time paints a question mark,
just ahead of me.
Being mostly dug into a much-reclined age,
I do not labor in the wide-open or narrow life,
yet I work,
just as frenetically as any puppy in Springtime,
Saturday, breaks up the week-long long shift,
Sunday cracks a giddy-up whip once more.
O you fulsome, sweet legged dream girl,
and ever so slightly crazy muse.
I wish you had time to put the kettle on
for a morning cup of tea.
The dial of my face is solidifying,
lips pucker and flirt with a timeless reverie.
Arrow-tipped hands are already spinning.
Andiamo!