.
i forget not yourn
sweet
eve
each kiss
lisp
such your
wisp
'bout mine
i do so
miss
keep thuh cot
warm
and thuh coffee
hot
be home bright
tuh
wit
thuh morn
Hallway
Things the upstairs hallway desperately needs to
make her feel like a
hallway include:
jugs of
water with a
hint of
lemon and
sarsaparilla (yuk!), heads of
asparagus, afros, viruses (non-
life-threatening
only), accounting ledgers, human
toenails, frog
farts, TV static, nautical
caps, half
rainbows, a
cat – any breed will
do – meows, stamps (blank), bucket of
courage, two hand size steel
blocks, Ag chemical silver shavings, hair strings (chimp
only), dice x
10, white feathers of
any white-feathered bird, angel
pubic hair (men’s only), Chinese buttons, and
fly eyes.
Rooted for good health
Centuries of healing man
Better skin and joints
Mega iron for the blood
So all hail, sarsaparilla
Two glasses of water
wait to be touched by hand and lip.
The water itself remembers the taste
of whiskey, sarsaparilla, Fixodent;
the salty funk
of being swallowed down the throat
of one experience after another.
Memories are in the water
swimming hither and thither.
The glasses contain minds, set aside
for the drinking of.
The water also drinks,
swallows parents, grandparents,
wives, multiple layers of children;
they all swirl so slowly in the water
that only equally slow thoughts
can reveal them.
Two elderly men
reach for the same glass of water at once.
There is a momentary confusion,
lifetimes interchange like a mixed drink,
they begin to speak of people
only one of them should recall,
as if the past had always been
but one glass after all.
some sarsaparilla please
chilled Death Valley soda pop
fizz with a vintage label
9/19/2021
There are flavors from strawberry cheesecake to sarsaparilla.
Thirty-one different kinds of ice cream, and you want vanilla?
I wished I were a cowboy riding a handsome palomino,
But, I was just a little kid, my sis watching Valentino.
I wished I were a cowboy rounding up the longhorns,
But, I was just a little kid still believing in unicorns.
I wished I were a cowboy drinking a sarsaparilla,
But, I fell asleep at night clutching my Roy Rogers pillow.
As time went by, I grew up and moved on to bigger things
But, when I hear “Happy Trails to You” my heart still gladly sings!
Sidney spots spiteful sister Sarah secretly sucking
sticky strawberry swirls, and sarsaparilla spirals
Tongue Twister Challenge Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joe Sandler
12/30/20
A friend instinctively knows how to bend,
and not break, when anger is in control.
A Champagne and sarsaparilla blend;
that can quench the thirst of both heart and soul.
A friend is tethered to reality,
yet undertakes near-impossible tasks.
A partner who does not always agree;
able to distinguish you from your masks.
A friend welcomes your smile a thousand ways,
chasing away the melancholy blues.
Providing comfort on your darkest days:
they're always in your corner; win or lose!
These attributes are what define a friend,
as someone you can count on, to the end.
Horn Hairy Gorilla Limerick
We were drinking some sarsaparilla
Ran into Hun that they named Attila
Pretended he was a gorgeous man
From each country him they did ban
He had turned into a harry gorilla.
Trump even played a part on the
Ozzie and Harriet as a worthless
trash collector who never learned
how to use a compactor and also
was a poor actor who became
our President. We are supposed
to be the benefactor. Can you
imagine that.
Jim Horn
Mr. William Finch had a lot to remember.
What was he doing in the attic in late November?
Wondering about his antics was his wife Cora.
William was covered with the scent of sarsaparilla.
He journeyed to a world they left forty years ago.
It was a more cheerful life than the one they had come to know.
All William had to do was let his imagination flow.
Just think about the past, and off he would go.
“That is all nonsense” is what Cora had to say.
Well, Cora could find no trace of her husband today.
Based on the short story “A Scent of Sarsaparilla” by the late Ray Bradbury
Sarsaparilla sneezes
Soda wishes blowing bees
past their lemon flower love
swish of air beneath their wings
Carbonated moments
When the lights pop on in minds
Blown to breathing labored breaths
bubble waxed until it shines
Tantamount to flying
Air to breath and stings to bees
whooshing past what might have been
to break emotion on the breeze
Pollinated lucid
Sleepily immerse the buzz
lighting carbonated wings
inflated to this flying love.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.