Long Sip Poems
Long Sip Poems. Below are the most popular long Sip by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sip poems by poem length and keyword.
The lip trembles slightly
with the first morning sip.
Searching for the rim
the hand is slightly shaky.
Eyes half-opened, ears
seized with silence as the breath
inhales the vaporized memory
of a slow rising steam.
The second sip more confident
finds the soothing liquid quickly.
The throat opens wide, welcoming
body sighs of mild comfort.
The third sip of the morning is the best
as anyone who knows it will attest.
The body now awake
is fully prepped to take a fitting gulp.
No longer sipping, fairly zipping
in the body’s quest for alertness.
The tongue is sharp to mark
the measure of the draw.
The back is straighter now
as the body stands more tall.
This is the sip of the day.
The first full taste.
Not done in haste
but savored
for the fullness of the flavor.
This is the quiet sip.
Transporting you
to the easy comfort of a welcomed day.
you sink into the softness of
a welcomed resting mind.
This is the sip
you are reluctant to relinquish.
That fair elongated moment
of the magic third sip
that stops time.
And then,
you gulp your way
across the line
that marks the end
of the cup
and the beginning
of the day.
Beneath blue, cloudless, endless, blissful line;
briny breeze filled sea along the coastline,
squalling seagulls sip the morning sunshine
changeful flight swooping from azure confine.
Beneath blue, cloudless, endless, blissful line
dance above ever-changing rippling waves,
squalling seagulls sip the morning sunshine
up and down floating sails towards shore raves.
Dance above ever-changing rippling waves
on fish, crab, anything that moves. Nestling
up and down floating sails towards shore raves
on brown seaweed, midst rocky isle waiting.
On fish, crab, anything that moves; nestling
squalling seagulls sip the morning sunshine
on brown seaweed, midst rocky isle waiting,
beneath blue, cloudless, endless, blissful line.
11/22/2019
example for contest... I used the poem "Seagull" and modified a little for the example
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/seagull_1188175
I was sipping cognac by the pool
Nobody was in it, the air was too cool
Angry chants outside the castle, but I paid them no mind
Peasants always complain, and I must unwind.
Mopsy was texting near the diving board
Lucille wanted attention but was ignored.
I love them both dearly, but I need time to think
I lifted the glass, took another drink.
Lucille jumped in the pool, then gave a cry of pain
A few bubbles came up, but not her again
She's such a prankster, it must be a joke
Mopsy asked Paul the butler to bring her a coke.
Lucille knew Mopsy was my favorite daughter
Paul looked down, said "there's blood in the water!"
I said "that can't be, the pool is secure
Don't scare me, I'll end your tenure."
Paul said "Sir, there's an alligator:
"He's at the pool floor; I think he ate her."
I said "That's not funny, leave my estate"
Paul said "Sir, you're an ingrate."
"I've worked for you since you were a prince.
"I've known you for years, and you don't take hints.
"Opaque to warnings when they come.
"I'll leave your dank castle and go into the sun."
Then Mopsy looked up at her phone and at me
The last time she did that was in seventy-three.
She said "Water's red, maybe too much chlorine"
I looked into the wavelets, and I turned green.
There was an alligator, with a hypnotic grin
I had lost a heir, who had put it in?
Was it the pretender to the throne, my stepson?
Outside the castle, I heard shots from a gun.
Nothing wrong with a cognac sip
Or keeping a stiff upper lip
Maybe I should go outside, hear the complaints and speak
But I have just heard a woman shriek!
Reality will catch you, sooner or later
Now I have to extricate Mopsy from the alligator.
The moral of the story is that heeding warnings is wise
Even from the staff, or people you despise.
I gazed at the warmth
in your smile,
careful not to meet your eyes,
stepping back just enough
to stay in control.
Sitting on the balcony,
waiting to watch
your first sip of coffee,
where sunlight touched your skin,
and I lost my balance quietly.
I could choose to touch,
embrace,
even choose to love you.
I didn't.
This fleeting moment
is too fragile
to endure a touch.
Longing to become
two statues mirroring each other,
hung from a cathedral,
resisting time.
Thousands would cross between us,
yet I would remain fixed on you.
Witnessing uncountable battles
over the centuries,
gazing at the fractures in you.
Beneath loud voices in prayer,
and still I would find
your silence.
When our time comes,
even reduced to dust,
we would resist.
Paralyzed in memory,
frozen in pictures made of us,
carried through stories
that will age before us.
In that stillness,
I would hold nothing of the world.
A simple move
would be impossible.
Still—
I would have you.
Now—
I realize
I was yours too.
When next my eyes are blessed to set on you,
May that be soon or further down the line,
Will tears refuse to paint with only blue,
And choose instead less colors viewed as mine;
I’ll see no beauty where it was before,
No lilac petals shall your garden grow,
And that it won’t, in dark, then to a store,
Where bottles sold are filled with fine merlot;
One sip is all these words will need to slur,
That tell left feet, a pair, attached my legs,
To stumble forth when hunger might occur,
But hear eternal hollow famished begs;
For years have passed since wine thin veins unwind,
Same your resplendence which turns vision blind.
She drowned her sorrows in an amber liquid world
Scotch on the rocks, round and round it swirled
She was now totally drunk
And on the verge of passing out
The monkey on her back kept her in a funk
As she could not control her drinking bouts
Next morning when she awoke
she remembered nothing of the previous night
she fumbled for a cigarette to smoke
she needed help urgently to win this fight
As the sirens rushed to the accident scene
mangled metal was all that could be seen
they pulled out a body from the broken glass
it appeared to be that of the amber swirl lass
Now she drinks on a higher plane
Where she feels nothing, not even pain
A ghostly guest in this strange new world
And no one to give her an amber swirl
----
4/11/12
I need to keep sipping.
Water, and it needs to touch my tongue first.
So that I can feel the water flowing inside me.
Which brings life to my fingers and toes.
As if the water is blood within me.
And cools the numbness that is normally what flows through my veins.
Sometimes, I need coffee.
We all need coffee sometimes.
In the morning, early, so early.
Earlier every day.
Sitting, and sipping.
My hands are touching a cup.
I can feel, I can feel ceramic.
Cold ceramic.
So I don’t die.
I’m saving my life.
Sitting here quietly.
I’m saving my life every morning.
Sipping, as if every sip is a breath.
Sipping.
All day, I’m sipping.
In a city of fog and summerless light,
London hums softly, but nothing feels right.
Years have withered, your name still flows
Mithila, a whisper the morning wind knows.
We never danced in moonlit embrace,
Nor traced our fingers across time or space.
But the dots were sent… three soft ellipses…
Spoke louder than touches or lover’s kisses.
I heard you, without words, without sound,
Waves of canal cry where our hearts drowned.
You were my poem, unwritten but known,
My dream-shaped silence, my marrow, my bone.
You left as sudden as autumn leaves fall,
No reason, no echo, no curtain call.
And still I sit at this quiet Departure café,
Sipping my coffee as the ghosts replay.
Each afternoon, each cup, each silent stir
A ritual mourning the loss of her.
The seat across me is empty, yet warm,
Filled with a memory that breaks the norm.
We had no nights of candlelit rain,
No shared breath under windowpane.
But you were the soul of all I believed,
A love not touched, but deeply grieved.
Years don’t erase, they only delay,
The longing I carry, day by day.
I wait in the steam of my porcelain cup,
Still hoping one day you might look up.
So I wave my feelings into the air,
Like a flag for a ship no longer there.
Departure lingers where your shadow lay…
And I, still waiting, still love you today.
When my fatigued pen,
succumbed to a sleepy state of silence
in the market place of silent poets,
I searched for a tea room to stimulate my mind
my quest led me to you.
I do not recall the colours
of the cup, nor the saucer.
Only the shimmer of light,
reflecting your delicate,
slightly tanned hands.
I wondered, was it the chai
or those hazel bronze eyes -
something left me mesmerised.
One sip,
a sudden sense of serenity
overcame me -
like the sun had risen through my heart,
warm rays beamed through my eyes.
To not lose the moment,
I sipped slowly, savouring subtle sensations.
Silky smooth liquid caressed my tantalised tongue,
as taste buds yearned for just one sip from your lips.
Suddenly, a profusion of poetic thoughts
began to burst through my mind.
This was no simple musing.
Rekindled pen began to flow like rivers of chai.
A Sip
—
Continious rain tempted me to have a tea.
Though it was day but dark at four
My senses pushed me to a shop to
taste a cup of hot sweet tea.
I walked and reached a tea shop but
there was a big queue waiting for tea
Gently that queue had their cups
when my turn came,
Oh sorry tea wala told me " no milk".
With a great dissoppointment asked
" please give me atleast a cup black tea
He gave and sipped that "devine wine."
Ah ! what a taste and how better it is
A sip of tea from that cup
satisfied that moment what is there to satisfy me
I am searching the answer from the universe.
SAKTHI RAVICHANDRAN