Percolated Poems | Examples

O Golden Dream of Youth

Herman Wenzell 1863--1944

My classical alarm channel
--98.5 Block Island—
Cues me this morning 
to a parlor-piano tune
 
percolated over
forgotten days
and the sweetness
of possibility.

You were there, I think
somewhere across
the clean smelling linen,

and there was breakfast,
unhurried and savored,

“O golden dream of youth”
	That was the name of the piece, and
	Wenzell—a name as obscure as my own

My Must-Feet hit
the Necessary-Floor
in the
reflex of Business.

The cat stretches
and jumps 
from the bed

She has all day
with the radio
left on

to watch the gold
fish swim by
in glass
from her sill perch

Don'T Wait

Her perspective was stained
Colored by the experiences in her life
Guided by her emotions
And the dark thoughts that percolated at night

She was aware of her irrational feelings
She did her best to hide the pain 
She smiled for the camera; for the image
In a futile attempt to hide all of her shame

She was exhausted from the loquacious internal noise
It's hopeless to try to outrun what's inside
For the harder she fought
A little more of her died

She lived out the rest of her life
Sadly believing there would come a day
That the darkness would subside
Miraculously healing all of her pain

With her last breath drawn
A moment of clarity came into her eyes
For the first time in her life she became aware
The pain; it was all in her mind

A Brain Awakes

a brain awakes
gains 200 pounds
sheds a 20 year old ghost

before it awoke
it opened doors
ground beans
percolated morning coffee
kissed an ex-wife goodbye
as it left for the future

…it had dreamed
too early

meanwhile
a bug is swimming in a toilet bowl

the bug wonders
if it can safely leave you
sleepwalking through the rest
of the day

you go sit out on the decking
blink in and out
between flashes of deja vu

a hummingbird comes to the feeder

your mind hums along

then like a bird on a nest
it settles
into the rhythmic reality
of  another wednesday

Desert Blooms

Cluttered herself with salt;
Rather obscuring herself, she settled downwards;
The sandy surface has made her vulnerable;
Clasping the inner core tightly, she reluctantly raised her fallen guards;
The heart silently percolated to its bedrock;
She was afraid of sedimentation.
Suddenly the cracks paved the way to her weathered soul;
For her it was love at first sight!
Beginning of a pure, beautiful love affair;
She was mesmerized by those sparkling eyes!
She inched closer with the ever increasing sound of her pounding heartbeat;
Nothing! Nothing!
Betrayal!
Fluttering her sand-dunned eyelashes;
The mirage was in its full glory;
She retracted in her footsteps, recoiled her flattered heart;
She was deserted again with her guards steeper than before.

Favorite Scents

The square-cut bars of patchoulie soap 
     scented--musky, earthy, sensual-- 
     carefully placed on shelves 
     and in bureau drawers-- 
          a constant reminder 
          of long-gone days, 
Like the fresh smell of newly baked bread 
     wafting from grandma’s oven, 
     mingling with the sultry scent 
     of fresh-percolated coffee-- 
          a constant reminder 
          of bye-gone ways. 
Pervasive presence of lavender perfume 
     when I hugged my grandma tight, 
     snuggling next to her bosom 
     filling my nostrils with love-- 
          a constant reminder 
          of old-fashioned sprays. 
Another unidentified scent comes to me 
     from time to time, unexpected,  
     in meditation, repeats itself 
     in my dreams of Hawaii-- 
          a constant reminder 
          of lovely floral leis.

SECOND PLACE WINNER
Written March 15, 2021
for "Favorite Scent(s) Contest"
sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke''

PUBLISHER'S FRONT PAGE PICK
All-Poetry, October 30, 2021

A Brain Awakes

A brain awakes,
sheds 200 pounds.

Before the brain awoke
it dreamed
that it opened doors,
ground beans,
percolated morning coffee.
It realizes that it had dreamed
far too early.

Meanwhile, the awake brain
is a bug swimming in a toilet bowl,
and it wonders
as it drowns,
if you will sleepwalk
through the rest
of this
long day.

Memories In Appalachia

Every morning at close to four
She made the coffee, percolated
Poured it into cups with saucers
And they each would have a cup
Pouring the potent black liquid
Into the saucers before drinking
The cooling solution from them

This was only one more glimpse
Into the heart of Appalachian living
A day by day extravaganza of insights
Carried down from the Irish ancestors
Who’d come to this land in America
Realizing it reminded them of the 
Wonders that were once their Ireland

As the coffee moved from the percolator
To a Mr. Coffee that sat on the sink
The children began to drink from their cups
But Granny and Pa still used their saucers
A reminder of all that had come before
And the things that were past that would
Forever remain ingrained in their hearts

Now We Can Make Our Own Sheep

British Biogenesis took a front seat
When the first bio-cloned sheep Dolly was created.
In a tiny glass test tube nice and neat. 
All we need now is for it to be percolated.

Also a little know-how in kinestheics 
And an advanced degree in biogenetics

Possibly the ability to follow deep,
And clear step by step directions on U-tube.
Voila! We are now making our own sheep!
I knew we could do it, with a bit of lube.

Politically Speaking

The Oracle spoke in tongues
Of crisscrossed words reversed in a pattern
Percolated in the minds to be given to lungs
Then tossed to the winds like a light to the lantern

Giving out hope for each to carry out
A new day that torched in their voices
While the words that did sway and melted all doubt
Meant all they could say or impart in their choices

A time when tribes and clans joined to make great their cause
But forgetting the reason for all the applause!

Ecstacy

When divine’s grace, stroked hair and kissed forehead  
Euphorically immersed in ecstasy 

When humming breeze smoothed solitude 
Weeping heart filled with orisons 

When rays of hope percolated in being
Tears of pleasure coursed down on cheeks

When tied limbs broken twines
Suppressed desires floated on sky

When hymns of bliss reverberated in air 
Canyons of mind filled with flowers 

When feathers of love patted on back
Distorted being solaced in self 

When last moment passed in hurry  
Me......the light, drowned in ecstasy

The Prey

Eyes of darkness,
Caught the prey,
Brutal eagle eyes,
Always hovered her,
She veiled her,
Beneath the tree,
But eyes chased her always.

She hid her,
In shades,
Red-blooded eyes,
Stabbed darkness,
Pulled her out.

She cried, wept,
Withered away,
No one heard weeping heart,
Except brutal ears.

Ferocious nails,
Pierced into flesh.

Tears percolated to mothers (earth’s) womb,
Stains of lost virginity,
Became filthy.

They buried her.

Savoring

Plush puffs of sincerity rest   
flush  to the king of hearts   
bleeding   feeding   
on oxygen  blown free   
eternal fires of destiny   
  
where cinnamon wafts of excitement   
pour out  percolated with precision   
slowly whistling for another spot   
swirling rhythmically in an never   
ending caramel cup     
    
Savoring every last drop

The Day She Cracked

Her emotions percolated, hot and unsettled
until she exploded, shattering reality.

Loud, angry words punctured our hearts
as she lashed out at everyone and no one.

Her eyes darted, a mixture of hurt
accusation and confusion.
Disjointed words, rambling thoughts
paranoia, all flung and strung
hovering in the air.

We groped in vain for a soothing balm
to comfort her fractured mind.

A broken vessel takes time to mend
but it is never quite the same.

Some Things That Are Not Replaceable

re-post inspired by contest theme

The
house was full
    of yesterdays-
books
    that filled
      wet Wednesdays
cross-stitch
   hours upon the wall
   eclectic
art,glass,pottery
collected,
moments
   sentiments
   priceless,unique
   irreplaceable-

a smell of love
     percolated
      into offspring
memories
drifting
       to timeless
tomorrows

Awakening

#1
I go to sleep each night,
For the rest I prize,
And wake each morning,
To my great surprise.
I sip my coffee,
Or drink my tea,
And revel in the luck,
Of being me!
And then one morn,
As the sun grew hot,
The coffee percolated,
In the coffee pot,
Everyone else woke,
As was their lot,
But no coffee for me,
As I did not!

Eldon Grupp

#2
I love to go to sleep each night
For rest I always prize,
And wake each morning somehow...
Though to my great surprise!

I sip my coffee in its cup
Or cozy up to tea,
And revel in God's gifting...
That somehow I'm still me!

But then a fateful day arrived,
The sun became quite hot,
The morning I'd expected...
In simple words was not.

No coffee boiling in its pot
All missed their morning tea,
A world stripped of its atoms...
With nothing left to see.

No human woke to meet this dawn,
The scene that had unfurled,
All time to praise and ponder...
For souls set free from world.

Brian Johnston
December 25, 2016

Poets Notes:
A twist on a poem by a friend!  :-)

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