Short Malt Poems

By default,

Sea is salt,

If it's malt,

What's fault?

I thought!...

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Like the aftertaste of  peat smoke single malt
and eye water chaser on my tongue...

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Quail with lentils and yoghurt
smoked salmon nibbles
bresaola with ripe fig
buttermilk pudding
a chocolate malt ice cream
Blooming good-
Try!...

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The gents in the pub are no fools,
They'd rather sip malt that wear jewels,
For gems are no match
To an Anheuser's batch
Of Irish style, pale ale, O'Douls!...

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Your love is thin
  it has no flesh
its a pretty face
  with no consequence,

so I tell myself
  go without the water
by summer the malt 
  will be in order
your love is thin....

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In the seven hundreds, we traded salt
Arab and Berber traders
Were gold and ivory graders
Horses and tigers bartering came to a halt
Cloth, swords, and books traded for chocolate malt....

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Snow when it falls on a small Ohio town.

My guns.

Any child before it has learned too much.

Irish malt on the rocks in a crystal glass.

Obviously, my wife
children and grandchildren.

Did I mention whisky and guns?...

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Mother Mother i feel so down
Its strange not having you around
I blame you its all your fault iv started the Gin 
as iv ran out of malt
My clothes are dirty there are holes in my shorts
miss you like crazy always in my thoughts...

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I find reason to exalt
    in my container of salt
  The crystals, though white
    taste just like malt

  Now I don't have a sweet tooth
    I had this checked out
  I've got an allergic reaction
    To severe chocolate drought...

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Nature Seeds of salt shall be no malt.

Though it flows, sometimes without fault,

Fun in love, not in assault,

Much may be stored in vault.

Maybe by default,

Either may halt

Or exalt.

Not alt

Salt 







after reading

Spreading the Seed...

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Mad meets sad
Things turn bad


Lots of pain
Rain in vain


Words grind halt
Drown new malt


Times hurl gall
As tears fall


Strokes bleed pain
Loss swirls drain


Feel the gist
Loss floods list



Leon Enriquez
01 April 2020
Singapore...

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hopscotch gray ash leper. 

   quicker to the tray with the 
  embers still burning .

  he smells of malt urine and
  pall mall ciggeretts.

  so steady his genius through
 yellow tar stained fingers. 

 leaping briliantly over checkered tiles 
 in the park....

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My teeth crunch into golden heaven,
savoring fresh cream and salt.

This is my tenth - wait, no - eleventh
cob of corn. Time for a malt.

Corn cob, Mom, Bob,
Can't have another?

We love each other,
so you must.

Cob of corn, my golden heaven,
After you I love to lust....

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If I were queen I would have to decide
Queen of sugar? Queen of salt?
Queen of tigers or a chocolate malt?
Queen of laughter? Queen of light?
Being queen is out of sight
Queen of unicorns? Faeries? Monarch butterfly?
I must confess being queen is difficult
It takes so much thought, I cannot lie...

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turbulent souls
intoxicated by
colours and lines
philosophical downtrodden
jutting clumsy unfinished
works shocking the system
delivered in spasms
they hide in brothels and
beg in taverns for an ounce
of malt and love
to sober
they are destroyed for
their originality and
worshipped later by
the same vultures and
revered as great artists...

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Know this
Sad tale tells well
No bliss
Can ever tell


Find fault
With edgy choice
No malt
Can succeed poise


Stop now
This sorry sight
Know how
Joy flavours flight


Keep cool
And dare to be
Dear fool
Knows frolic frees


Kind heart
Knows a deep find
Fond start
Spreads peace of mind




Leon Enriquez
07 May 2017
Singapore...

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Cheerios lacks sugar
Alphabet cereal needs marshmallows
A wise one invents Lucky Charms
I eat all the colorful marshmallows out of it too

Wheaties and Raisin Bran are awful.
Daddy eats them
I have no idea how
Is there a sugar swamp in the bottom of his bowl?

In the winter we have Cream of Wheat
Malt-o-Meal
Coco Puffs
Nothing is special about Special K...

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I'd like to spend some time with you,
my dark and smooth draftee.
At dusk, when all my work is through,
I know you'll wait for me.

You're full of body, fair on top,
a bubble-head they say.
Your scent of roasted malt and hop
a working-man's bouquet.

Although there's fire in your veins,
Your touch is always cool.
I hope this doggerel explains
why, Stout, I am your fool....

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Leather Jacket

Gym shoes, sipping a malt
Leather jacket, tight jeans.
She fell so helpless with him under the sheets.
His skin..total velvet-sweet.

Ah, those magenta hues~
From the hotel light flashing.
Cable cars bells ringing.
A night to remember, her 
soul singing,
Total sexual splendor.
She'll forever remember~
Her....San Francisco.

Pamagiota Romios
2/28/2019...

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Devil take it, drunk again.
Evil was that vile Cocktail
magnificent though it seemed at the time.
Olive was very bitter and hard
Never again my head hums at me.

Dram of malt whisky finished things off.
Rum and rice wine sure don't mix
Indigestion the least of my worries.
Nerves are all a jitter, hands shaking
Keep still I in vain bid them.
Storm clouds fill my stomach I flee to the loo....

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One more, well maybe three
Baileys,  Bushmills and Irish Mist
Equal amounts and neat please
This year is in desperate need of a good ending

What? y'routta Bushmills!
Jamesons fine or as a last resort
A single malt scotch
anything else and we're gonna be needin' ice

It's time to shovel again?
Well put mine halfway down the driveway
And pour me another
Unless this is a blizzard
We got 'er covered...

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Malt-o-Meal sitting on my desk
Left over from last year
Found in a box I never unpacked
in August and this is April 25th

Cleaning is not my thing;
Even when I do it no one appreciates it
And no one knows
For there are no obvious clues.

So here I sit, 
Enjoying my hovel 
Finding whatever I need
Knowing it will be here again tomorrow

Discouraging others
From disturbing me
or my mess that 
Completes me....

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the sky an ocean of Forget Me Nots, 
  leaden on hues French-vanilla ice-cream, 
    puffy cotton candy clouds move down stream 
      grassy field of red spice cinnamon hots 

dream of pleasure indulges in single malt 
  of her big eyes. watch a half smile linger
    a wink of sun glare, tighten her fingers, 
      cries, red balloons into the amber they bolt


4/17/2020


just musing...

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In your cave
Resides electricity
If I like it
Where is my fault

In your cave
Smiles blue ocean
Where is my fault
If I take some salt 

In your cave
Dwells deep night 
Where is my fault
If I seek single malt

From your cave
We go for the glow 
For the dance of stars
We go back to night

Cave is our beginning
Cave is our survival 
Cave is our garden
Cave our destination 
_______________________________
August 3, 2016...

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The keenest Christian Sermon on Salt 
To a Somalian Moslem in Renault 
That can out-speed a stone from catapult 
But now at a complete halt;
Not from any mechanical fault:
Perhaps, Moslems can from Salt
Messages sift about Man’s fault 
And his waiting judgmental vault”

A still dragging Sermon on Symbolic Salt 
And a Moslem stops sipping his cold Malt
Though in ‘Allah’ precisely dues exalt 
And fellow Mohammedans watching the result!...

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