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Unprecedented Weather
Weather Gods did relent
After bright morning
Hell bent
Succour to those
Who created space
For the show
To mint the mint
And no more
Kids with naked heads
And office goers on foot tread
Worst in store
For fairer sex
Braving the tempest
And beast in man.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alarming Cake
My alarm hastens with a cake,
Knuckled by tables, the mint is fine,
Mint echoes, differing with the dessert.
Vegetables are sceptical, not consenting,
They are agitators, intolerant themselves;
Engraved on the plate, a turnip is fun and rejoicing.
The level of food spluttering
Angers my laughing face,
A propellant is detected by the eye.
poem by Naveed Akram
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After
Oh, the littles that remain!
Scent of mint out in the lane;
Flare of window; sound of bees; —
These, but these.
Three times sitting down to bread;
One time climbing up to bed;
Table-setting o’er and o’er;
Drying herbs for winter’s store;
This thing; that thing;—nothing more.
But just now out in the lane,
Oh, the scent of mint was plain!
poem by Lizette Woodworth Reese
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Strike Up The Band
Let the drums roll out
Let the trumpet call
While the people shout
Strike up the band
Hear the cymbals ring
Callin one and all
To the martial swing,
Strike up the band
There is work to be done, to be done
Theres a war to be won, to be won
Come, you son of a son of a gun,
Take your stand
Fall in line, yea a bow
Come along, lets go
Hey, leader, strike up the band!
There is work to be done, to be done
Theres a war to be won, to be won
Come, you son of a son of a gun,
Take your stand
Fall in line, yea a bow
Come on, lets go
Hey, leader, strike up
Hey, leader, strike up
Hey, leader, strike up the band
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baked By God
My heavenly baked beauty…
Are you truly; my duty…
Because you are driving me…
Your chocolate is all I see…
I hungerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…
Without your chocolate I am sunk…
Started with just a little kiss here…
A little kiss there…
Now I can't think anywhere…
Oh, you heavenly baked woman…
Is the term (éclair) fair….
Iced with chocolate…
I do declare…I swear…a little dish of mint...
a hint..
You echo in me…
Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate…
I am running wild…
From your chocolate style…
Oh, my queen…
Wake me not if I am a but…
Dream…
God blessed you…
With custard filling…
Sooooo…
Tantalizing…
So…damn surprising…
Arousing is your (flavour) …that mint hint...
While I am browsing…
Sometimes…it feels like…
I just can't give up…
For brown sugar…
Is…
A condition of deep thought…
Your respect must be included…
I need for you to come around…
That is the sound…
From the heavens…
To the ground…
So sweet and delicious…
A consequence I will bare…
Your respect is my dare…
My…chocolate... my mint...your..woman…ly…
Éclair…
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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Bad Fit
How many nails do I have to have
hammered into my brain to realise
we don't fit?
This liaison has always been flawed.
Gel, we never did, but we had passion.
A wealth of it.
Should I take this hammer
and strike the final blow?
I don't know.
Hammers strike memories,
as though they're all piano keys
and the sound is harsh..
They have me re-visiting old war wounds
that I should have buried years ago.
They are awakening.
They've been dormant for so long.
Maybe I should have one final strike
and put them to rest.
The trouble is, if I pick up the hammer
and strike the first blow,
I may never stop
poem by Ruth Walters
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The NOT so Royal Mint.
I never liked the smell of mint
when I was only four.
That bush by the back door
burst through the railings each year
The path was wide enough
when I think back
But not then.
Then,
I would hug the wall on tippytoes
arching my back like a concave mirror,
dreading the lightest brush with death
which would follow that dreaded scent.
One day, after a downpour, the damp-
ness amplified this poisonous perfume.
The summer sun seemed focused
on that path, the roots, those leaves.
I caught the whiff which burned the hairs
that lined my fragile throat.
So to all you culinary celebrities
using mint in that'n this.
I urge you, to forget it, please,
It reminds me of warm cat piss.
poem by Hola Mentirosa
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Empty Commiserations
She says she doesn’t, he says he doesn’t
says he wants freedom yet his mind can’t let go
She’s not there, now and again she is
Says she needs romance but he has too much passion
Says he needs passion but she hasn’t the romance
It’s complicated, we are together but we are not
He’s looking for a mint coin, mint-cruise exploration
Says she wants prince charming but charms no princes
She’s hunting for a solar-magnet, cosmic stardust
Says he’s set in his ways and she wants to change me
Says she’s independent, he wants to control me
When the gold rush slows, smouldering fires quickening
He says he’s not found ‘her’ yet, she says she hasn’t fallen
Boundless adventures sought, there are plenty of fish
A good loose heart both say, fired up, revving for a new start
There is no guilt, no disappointment and no pain they say
Yet a jealous flicker burns, and occasionally commiserate…moaning
12.01.10
poem by Sylvi Sylva
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XXIX
TO HER WHO WOULD COMFORT HIM
I did not ask your pity, dear. Your zeal
I know. It cannot cure me of my woes.
And you, in your sweet happiness, who knows,
Deserve it rather I should pity feel
For what the coming years from you conceal.
I did but cry, thou dear Samaritan,
Out of my bitterness of soul. Each man
Has his own sorrow treading on his heel,
Ready to strike him, and must keep his shield
To his own back. Fate's arrows thickly fly,
And, if they strike not now, will strike at even.
And so I ask no pity. On life's field
The wounded crawl together, but their cry
Is not to one another but to Heaven.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Money
Stolen by poverty
Let stolen by 'antipoverty'
Might of the mint is an effigy
Endorsed in life's kinetic journey
Rags to riches coiled in coinage
Birth to death in currency-appendage
Food, clothe, shelter hike
Varied labour-men when strike
Target is money-market
Goal is money-profit
Craze is gold locket
Racing in final syndromic silt
To be is to be knowledgeable
Enough is enough satiable
Fear is to fear avarice
Beware is beware of vice, malice
And
Don't we just opine of money a demon
Don't just opine of money either a daemon
Born in this country
We to deify money, Goddess Lakshmi
Bestower of wealth and morality
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Toeing To Toe
Did you leave your cookie cutter,
Near that boiling pot?
And it got too hot,
To get your cookies baked to taste.
Did you leave your cookie cutter,
Near that boiling pot?
Now you think you should stop...
Concentrating on your need,
For sweets.
But if you wanna,
You can still whip up...
A cool mint 'coolah-tah'.
Or have some green tea with me.
I'm having crackers and cheese.
And if you wanna,
You can still whip up...
That cool mint 'coolah-tah'.
Add some snuggled hugging....
With your toe to my toes touch too!
Did you leave your cookie cutter,
Near that boiling pot?
And it got too hot,
To get your cookies baked to taste.
Did you leave your cookie cutter,
Near that boiling pot?
Now you think you should stop...
Concentrating on your need,
For sweets.
So if you wanna,
You can still whip up...
A cool mint 'coolah-tah'.
And do some toe to toe with me.
That's if you wanna,
Do some toeing to toe...
With me.
If you wanna,
Do some toeing to toe with me.
That's if you wanna,
Do some toeing to toe...
With me.
If you wanna,
Do some toeing to toe with me.
That's if you wanna,
Do some toeing to toe...
With me!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The mint makes it first, it is up to you to make it last.
Mint flower: the more you say ""go away"", the closer it comes.
Command As You Demand It
Strike up the band,
And...
Command as you demand it.
Compose a little tune.
With a filling of a room to boom.
And strike up the band.
With a command from you demanded.
Compose a little tune.
With a filling of a room to boom.
Grandstand and be free to be candid.
Strike up the band,
And...
Forget about offending those who may witness.
Strike up the band,
And...
Do it with a strutting flaunted you do best.
With a caring less who objects your steps.
Strike up the band,
And...
Command as you demand it.
Compose a little tune.
With a filling of a room to boom.
And strike up the band.
With a command from you demanded.
Compose a little tune.
With a filling of a room to boom.
Forget about offending those who may witness.
Strike up the band.
And...
With a caring less who objects your steps.
Strike up the band.
And...
Forget about offending those who may witness.
Strike up the band.
And...
With a caring less who objects your steps.
Strike up the band.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Supplication
Well, dizzy aint the word for the way that youre making me feel now
Well, I need some indication, girl, if all of this is real now, tell me girl now
Well, Ive heard it said theres something wrong in my head, now
Got to help me, girl, now
Could it be infatuation or am I just being misled now?
Little bolt of inspiration way you strike me now
Sparking my imagination, got the lightning now
Cause me such excitation, got the lightning now
bout to end my suffocation, come on strike me now
Little bolt of inspiration way you strike me now, shes back in my imagination
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is the destiny of mint to be crushed.
quote by Waverley Lewis Root
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every cloud has its silver lining but it is sometimes a little difficult to get it to the mint.
quote by Don Marquis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If someone offers you a breath mint, accept it.
quote by H. Jackson Brown, Jr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nothing except the mint can make money without advertising.
quote by Thomas B. Macaulay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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