Long Not my cup of tea Poems
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Cozy On The Universe
In the middle of the room, in the middle of a thought
In the middle of the mind, in the afternoon, in kitchen
The universe intruded through the walls
Without knocking it simply imposed itself
No respect for doors or protocols
The moment came with calm
No particular reason comes to mind, why
Time and space and matter, have a warm spot in my heart
Have always been my home away from home
I took a moment to let the giant in
With all its molecules in place
But only for a moment
Then asked it to go away, since
It was tea time
The universe will always be there out in space
But not my cup of tea
No need to drink it rapidly
It too has a warm spot in my heart
As welcomed company
Some guys are cut out for retirement
That certainly doesn't apply to me
If I had my druthers, I'd still be working
This is surely not my cup of tea
Used to be such an active fellow
Was hard at work twenty-four seven
Up until virtually all hours of the night
Now I'm lucky if I make it past eleven
This poetry site is my saving grace
Without it I'd surely go berserk
Well maybe that's overstating my case
But you get it, I thrive on work
Perhaps there's a big surprise in store
I'll inherit a million big ones
From a distant long lost cousin of mine
Might be getting too much sun!
© Jack Ellison 2013
Splattering dried soil upon my face
Lying on that bed for a space
Space for stars, rainbows, and the moon I plunged my eyes; the sky took me into a room
An inch of fumes and smoke filled my lungs
Drown in how they pierced their fangs
Space by space, acre by acre—work as a trade
My skin, eyes, and hair were cascading.
Treasures like golden quicksand,
Provider at most, even in their command
Midst of the haze, everything seems fine to me
Died at most, thou poorest tree
Let them cultivate their land and squeeze out my skin
Everything looks fine to me; I have no kin
Let them pulp my eyes and scorch my feet
Does not matter when I live in a threat
The gift of their deeds is the scaly land
Uncage the air and mutate the hand.
Living in hell or living in a raging tie
Raging storms, zapping lightning, polluted realm, and it looks fine to thine eyes
Stood a strong soldier with all those mishaps
Hiding my scar and fertilizing all my stuff
When you are all broke and I’m here to embrace you
Complaining is not my cup of tea
Sometimes some lost and lonely housewife I know well and knew put glossy
lip stick on and subtle pastel shade mascara plucked his brows and shaved
the pits of desperation the dust and grime the secretive desire longing
He cleaned the oven layered peeled the onion emerged in mouth watering
cheese cakes mixed the sweet and sour chilly icing with fresh fromage
fermenting homage to a new beginning of transition from the desperation
Not my cup of tea the make up with tattoos the belly ring and
hairy monsters on his pectoral and deltoid muscles but the pastry
pasted shaken not so pious pies tasted passionate the scent of musky
mushroom vanilla cinnamon the whole cliché of home made cooking
steaks for power sweet desert aphrodisiac temptations for the palate
palace coup palladium palliating plights of unforeseen façade and masquerade
Defeating gender stereotypes and prejudice his wife left broom cuisine
and cruising hoovers steely wool to his resolve and elbow grease but the
good partner who she was helped with the dishes when the dishy romance
ceased to be when both of them were desperate shattered broken devastated
wives and house mates
Their Pandora’s box the can of wriggly worms once opened left his bosom swell
his skin and features soften the pheromones transform their scent aroma
tone and meter of their conversation pitched up once the vocal chords strung higher
and he cut the naval chord which boxed him for so long in a body of a stranger
My friend and desperate house wife Paul is Paula now and she lives with her girl
another gender convert and is not incarcerated not desperate any longer she is free
Her ex-wife Ruby lives with Rosa now transcending yet another artificial boundary in rapturous coming of time and liberation and I love them dearly just the same
19th June 2016
Written for contest: Desperate Housewife
Sponsor Poet Destroyer A
Company's coming, must clean house
Pretend it's immaculate every day
Why must we put on airs for our visitors
Just show 'em our every day way
It's all a big front this illusion we create
It's never gonna be the real us
Down to earth folks, we know who we are
Never want to make a big fuss
As hard as we try to ignore the norms
We succumb to the desire to be
One of those folks so we put on these airs
But it's just not my cup of tea
Maybe I should show 'em the real me
With my clothes strewn all about
Two day old cereal still sitting in the pot
Dirty dishes all over the house
Okay just kidding, Cathie wouldn't allow
Our home to be seen in that state
Rather be seen with her hair up in curlers
Than dishes with leftover cake
Company's coming must clean house
That's not us, what you see's what you get
If you're expecting us to “put on the dog”
Not a chance, on that you can bet!
© Jack Ellison 2013
Be kind to others, greet them happily
It shall set your heart free, believe you me
Good always wins out, as it ought to be
I find that it is so, believe you me
Let little things go, give those up with glee
It shall set your heart free, believe you me
You might as well pay, nothing is for free
I find that it is so, believe you me
Laugh at this life, live less seriously
It shall set your heart free, believe you me
All is for the best, in time you shall see
I find that it is so, believe you me
Our world is a tough place, you may agree
Surely though, some are not my cup of tea
1/28/21
Monorhyme Sonnet
"Believe You Me", thought to be slang phrasing brought to America by Irish immigrants in the 19th century
Every morning it’s my habit not so new
of drinking from a brimful cup,
the piping hot reviving brew,
as from bed I listlessly get up.
I try various types of tea and their progeny,
herbal, green, brown and even spicy,
get the satisfaction of a low degree,
often the sip becomes dicey.
Gaining simple pleasure from concoction,
I get to think is not my cup of tea,
until in the Himalayan hill station,
I taste the famous Darjeeling delicacy.
The aroma of golden liquid delights my sense,
drives me to go on a drinking spree,
turns me into an addict of its pleasure hence,
enthuses me to drink everyday a cup of this tea.
_______________
February 10, 2023
Contest : A Simple Pleasure
Sponsored by : Julia Ward
Some guys are cut out for retirement
That certainly doesn't apply to me
If I had my druthers, I'd still be working
This is surely not my cup of tea
Used to be such an active fellow
Was hard at work twenty-four seven
Up until virtually all hours of the night
Now I'm lucky if I make it past eleven
This poetry site is my saving grace
Without it, I'd surely go berserk
Well maybe that's overstating my case
But you get it, I thrive on work
Perhaps there's a big surprise in store
I'll inherit a million big ones
From a distant long lost cousin of mine
Seems I'm getting a little too much sun!
There is no power greater than the Lord's, but there is a powerful lesson to be learned by not stumbling off on a fool's errand. That idiom is a phrase that explains the undertaking of a futile effort to find or prove something that is an impossible task. Thus, the effort becomes a waste of time and a fool's game to play. It is doomed to succeed from the start, even if the journey taken is by one with a good heart. The goal will never be reached when shrewd ones preach one thing and hand out rose-colored glasses to disguise words they speak but never practice. They tickle the ears of all who will listen, but the truth is what the naive ones will never hear. The real fool's errand is trying to unveil the fools who in spite of all efforts to conceal it, reveal themselves when the truth will out.
it's a waste of time
to go on a fool's errand~
fruitless endeavor
The phrase itself implies that it would be an unproductive effort and a lesson in futility such as Sisyphus rolling a boulder uphill only to watch it roll back down again. So, don't allow yourself to be disappointed, nor disjointed when the foolhardy in the world ..."don't know how to get along, yet, they pretend they've done nothing wrong."* It would be much wiser to avoid engaging with those who are always caught up in the throes of what they haughtily impose upon unsuspecting others. Excuse these added idioms, but they will help make the point about not getting a nose out of joint thinking a fool's errand is 'not my cup of tea.' Or, I'd rather 'call it a day' then chase a fool whose life has gone astray. Don't 'shoot yourself in the foot' by being a fool on an errand that will only prove to be 'a wild goose chase.'
in a world of fools
don't be duped to prove them wrong~
prove yourself wiser
* Sandra Feldman in her poem: 'Foolish World'
Last Meet
In evening I reached
the glass house in my garden
and glanced on shrubs.
Nice lovely lilacs
purple, lavender, white flowers
seemed useless and dull.
Evening bade good bye.
My glass house turned pitch black dark.
I waited for you.
You came with candle.
Darkness was torn in silence.
But our love was dark
Dim flame was trembling.
Our shadows were dancing
on gloomy glass wall.
Two silent strangers
might recollect memories
that had lost all charms.
We liked each other.
You were not my cup of tea.
Better to break up
We looked face to face.
Our last meet counted seconds.
We spent night speechless.
12/19/15