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A Sad Melody From An Old Vineyard!
There are no standards of taste in wine, cigars, poetry, prose, etc. Each man's own taste is the standard, and a majority vote cannot decide for him or in any slightest degree affect the supremacy of his own standard.' -Mark Twain,1895
Though the ripen sour grapes sleep in the moonlit night
Yet the Landlady awakes with a solitary song.
Her fiance sleeps in another vineyard beyond the hills
Those grapes are sweet it seems?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Tarantella - Sour Grapes
I admitted that I am utterly charming;
my specialty is to feed sour grapes,
to femmes causing a total disarming,
from this entrancing, none escapes.
After we jumped on the sand dunes,
and fighting against untamed sharks,
twas the hour of listening to tunes,
vented by an orbiting of love quarks.
I danced barefooted on the grapes,
on vigorous must-making tarantella,
thus I approached your curvy shapes,
hmm.. I knew your name was Stella! !
Was it not? While dancing I kissed,
those sour grapes you were holding,
and you insisted that I had to feed,
one by one the grapes on beholding.
What was that name; maybe Maria?
(stiff memory never helped my brain)
O, sour grapes! I called you Allegria,
singing Rossini's 'La Danza' refrain.
You stated you loved only the must,
your vine crown spelled 'Angioletta';
it did not? This loss made me aghast,
I thought Rossini called you Giulietta!
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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I Am Not Honest Completely As You Expect Me To Be
it is like my test
do not anticipate this for an answer because it can be that.
i do not go for filling in the blanks
for that would be too easy neither will i ask you to enumerate
for how can you ever have a good memory,
i go for an essay
the one that ask for justifications
where white can be black
and black white
with a person like me and like you
based on the need
and our desires
reasons abound like a bunch of ripe grapes
sweet sour
we pick them all, make the wine, ferment, and then
we sit like lovers
drinking our inventions.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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One Day A Hungry Fox
One day, a hungry fox,
Saw a high vineyard.
It was full of sweet grapes,
He might not have, he feared.
They were hanging in such
A height, that he jumped
And jumped, but couldn't get.
He had to remain starved,
Again he jumped, and jumped,
And went on jumping ever.
But all his efforts were in vain,
He failed to touch that cluster.
Being upset, he got angry
As he wasted his hour.
Before leaving out of pain,
He said--Grapes are very sour!
poem by Nilakshi Das
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Bragging Modesty
Why boast modesty? Wasn't handpicked
Bragging seems silly, when was obligation strict.
Posing wise on patterns borrowed by others
Followed a code & custom, or advise by mothers.
Justifying tartness, when Grapes felt sour
Choice will be different, when given some power.
Sour now bad and 'the grapes weren't mine'
Go with flock, is their new punch line.
Decency is out; it's Vanity that's in
Advance WE are, hold up the chin.
(Dear) Modesty is a virtue but its flaunting isn't smart
Simple or Not, be honest with all heart.
poem by Samima Shah
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It’s The Sweet Law Of Men
It’s the sweet law of men
They make wine from grapes
They make fire from coal
They make men from kisses
It’s the true law of men
Kept intact despite
the misery and war
despite danger of death
It’s the warm law of men
To change water to light
Dream to reality
Enemies to friends
A law old and new
That perfects itself
From the child’s heart’s depths
To reason’s heights.
poem by Paul Eluard
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You Could Have Been A Lady
(errol brown/anthony wilson)
Published by us music & media - ascap
Could have been alright, could have been here tonight
Could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
I could have been alright, I could have been here tonight
Could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
They all need you, to make love to
When you awake, you find them on the bed, lyin beside you
They all love you, youre a good girl
And I aint surprised, when you realize, just where youre goin to
You could have been alright, you could have been here tonight
You could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
It could have been alright, you could have been here tonight
Could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
If I told you, where youre goin to
Youd laugh in my face, say Im out of place, mind your business
And they all want you, to make love to
Its ashame, the fate of the game, the way it delights you
You could have been alright, you could have been here tonight
You could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
It could have been alright, you could have been here tonight
Could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
Na, na na na na, na, na, na na na na, na
Na, na na na na, na, na na
Na, na na na na, na, na, na na na na, na
Na, na na na na, na, na na
Alright, you could have been here tonight
You could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
It could have been alright, you could have been here tonight
Could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wine Story
An Abridged Story of Wine
The bottom of the nave used to be a lake's bed, but one night,
when moon was white as search light and the sky maroon,
the lake vanished. Dead fish and toenail clippings at the bottom,
but the soil was rich, and the people who used to fish for a living,
planted vine which bore healthy grapes, but grapes fermented
and wine was discovered. A drink that made them merry, they
sang, slapped flat stones together and made music.
But if drinking too much they ended fighting and used stones as
missiles, and given to arguing about the quality of snow that fell
the year before. In clay pots they sold red wine and became rich,
till Moslems came, forbad the making of wine, they planted pale
yellow orange trees instead. But the juice of sweet blue grapes
has an unstoppable allure it fills heart with music, the production
was moved to hidden dells in Alentejo. When Arabs, defeated by
Christian hordes, fled; Iberia had abundance of red wine but also
sugary orange juice.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Sweet Wine
Sweet wine
Lets feast and dine
Sweet wine
Tickle my taste buds
Sweet wine
Sharpen my senses
Make them finer than fine
Sweet wine
Red and white stay in line
Till I give you the sign
That you are mine
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Just A Taste Of Life
what i have in my hand
is a slice of pineapple
it is sweet
its sweetness lingers
in my tongue
and sticks to my brain
it is simply a slice
just a taste of this bigger life
ahead of us
i have another slice
to hand to you
take it
why waste some time
on bitter herbs
and sour grapes?
what i have is just a slice
of sweet pineapple
take it now
it is sweet
what do we have next?
we shall wait and see
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Fruity Taste of Life
Sweet and sour is life
What yours shall be, destiny shall contrive
But dependence on destiny shall decrease
And it will then depend on you, my friend decrees
What say you to that?
What surprise can pull from the hat?
Think of the sweet Tangerine
Perhaps you would, the sour Tamarind
They both spell L-I-F-E
For not even in strife
Shall the sweet in Tangerine
Be comparable to the sour in Tamarind
poem by Maureen Oby Iwueke Gbagir
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A Winning Philosophy
when life handed me
sour lemons
I made lemonade
when life handed me
sour grapes
I made rich red wine
when life was a dangerous
roller coaster
I refused to get on for the ride
when life offered
a shit sandwich
I refused to eat it
did not the great
philosophers
promote positive
states of mental being?
did not the great
philosophers
promote moderation
balance self denial?
happiness is a question of choice
choose wisely live in rewards of wisdom
poem by Terence George Craddock
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What Is It That You Like?
don't you like this sweetness
of my words?
you are bored with this sugar
and honey
and cream?
you are afraid you have become
sick of such
sweet tongue
such sweet indulgence?
oh, you want something bitter
something sour now?
some bitter herbs some sour
species of green lemons?
try me,
i am a bitter person
i am the latest delicacy of
all that is sour
and
decomposing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sour Grapes
I dont care if the sun dont shine
But it better or people will wonder
And I couldnt care less if it never stopped rainin
cept the kids are afraid of the thunder
Chorus:
Say sour grapes
You can laugh and stare
Say sour grapes
But I dont care
I couldnt care less if I didnt have a friend
cept people would say I was crazy
And I wouldnt work cause I dont need money
But the same folks would say I was lazy
Repeat chorus
I couldnt care less if she never come back
I was gonna leave her anyway
And all the good times that we shared
Dont mean a thing to day
Repeat chorus
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The grapes are sour, said the fox, when he could not get at them.