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Confession
I’m an unworthy vessel,
a rusty cup.
I foul your pure wine
with my common
corruption,
and yet
unreasonably
you fill me up again.
Brimful with your
glittering love
I become
a golden chalice
to hold your sacred
blood.
poem by Steven Federle
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Wine (Love Poem)
Wine is for laughing
Wine is for talking all night
Wine is for living life out loud
Wine is for making us beautiful
Wine is for all-night conversations
Wine is for getting together again
Wine is for ‘never again’ tomorrow
Wine is for sleeping like a baby
Wine is for telling the truth
Wine is food for love
Wine is friendship
Wine is fresh
Wine
Can
Be
The
One
Perfe ct
Companion
At the end of a long day
poem by Ian Beckett
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Foul play
Foul play not good
Foul players destroy themselves.
Foul play means play with injustice
Foul play means neglect justice.
Foul play I do not like
Foul play I do not like.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Vessel That I am!
I am a weak vessel.
Strengthen me, O Lord!
Help me fill up to the brim
With virtues of all sorts.
I am a small vessel.
Make me hold more, O Lord!
Take away my porosity;
Let things remain intact.
I am a clay vessel.
Polish my sides, O Lord!
Let me stand most splendidly,
Glorifying my God.
I am a mere vessel,
Distorted somewhat, O Lord!
Place me on a rocky base,
To show the world my class!
The vessel whatever that I am
Will serve Thee only, Lord.
Fill me up with thy grace, O God
To prove that I’m fine clod!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-1-2009
poem by John Celes
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Ode To Wine
Day-colored wine,
night-colored wine,
wine with purple feet
or wine with topaz blood,
wine,
starry child
of earth,
wine, smooth
as a golden sword,
soft
as lascivious velvet,
wine, spiral-seashelled
and full of wonder,
amorous,
marine;
never has one goblet contained you,
one song, one man,
you are choral, gregarious,
at the least, you must be shared.
At times
you feed on mortal
memories;
your wave carries us
from tomb to tomb,
stonecutter of icy sepulchers,
and we weep
transitory tears;
your
glorious
spring dress
is different,
blood rises through the shoots,
wind incites the day,
nothing is left
of your immutable soul.
Wine
stirs the spring, happiness
bursts through the earth like a plant,
walls crumble,
and rocky cliffs,
chasms close,
as song is born.
A jug of wine, and thou beside me
in the wilderness,
sang the ancient poet.
Let the wine pitcher
add to the kiss of love its own.
My darling, suddenly
the line of your hip
becomes the brimming curve
of the wine goblet,
your breast is the grape cluster,
your nipples are the grapes,
the gleam of spirits lights your hair,
and your navel is a chaste seal
stamped on the vessel of your belly,
your love an inexhaustible
cascade of wine,
light that illuminates my senses,
the earthly splendor of life.
But you are more than love,
the fiery kiss,
the heat of fire,
more than the wine of life;
you are
the community of man,
translucency,
chorus of discipline,
abundance of flowers.
I like on the table,
when we're speaking,
the light of a bottle
of intelligent wine.
Drink it,
and remember in every
drop of gold,
in every topaz glass,
in every purple ladle,
that autumn labored
to fill the vessel with wine;
and in the ritual of his office,
let the simple man remember
to think of the soil and of his duty,
to propagate the canticle of the wine.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Within this Earthen Vessel
WITHIN this earthen vessel are bowers and groves,
and within it is the Creator:
Within this vessel are the seven oceans
and the unnumbered stars.
The touchstone and the jewel-appraiser are within;
and within this vessel the Eternal soundeth,
and the spring wells up.
Kabîr says:
'Listen to me, my Friend!
My beloved Lord is within.'
A rash man, a skin of good wine, and a glass vessel, do not last long.
Restrict the wants to things in hand
The milk that is not full in a vessel
Can be full in an exact vessel
And even spill over from a smaller one.
Your want is the vessel and things, the milk.
25.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The World Is A Sacred Vessel
'The world is a sacred vessel...' Thomas Merton
blue vessel
in black vacuum
miracle world
encircling
thrall of this perfect star
sacred vessel,
His living cup
to beloved proffered,
wedding gift
beyond measure.
poem by Steven Federle
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179
Unfulfilled dreams
Become freckled rice
To produce
The foul wine
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Unfulfilled Dreams
Unfulfilled dreams
Become freckled rice
To produce
The foul wine
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Trailing Voices
A million cried
Help! Help! Help!
Another million yelled
Foul! Foul! Foul!
Before an unfeeling
Sovereign! In vain! !
And a billion populace
That raised the reign
Remained maimed!
Letting quietly its body
To be eater away
By its own organelle! ! !
poem by Sathya Narayana
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For at least another hundred years we must pretend to ourselves and to every one that fair is foul and foul is fair; for foul is useful and fair is not. Avarice and usury and precaution must be our gods for a little longer still.
quote by John Maynard Keynes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Tear-Vase
Other vessels hold wine, other vessels hold oil
inside the hollowed-out vault circumscribed by their clay.
I, as smaller measure, and as the slimmest of all,
humbly hollow myself so that just a few tears can fill me.
Wine becomes richer, oil becomes clear, in its vessel.
What happens with tears?-They made me blind in my
glass,
made me heavy and made my curve iridescent,
made me brittle, and left me empty at last.
Translated by Stephen Mitchell
poem by Rainer Maria Rilke
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The Vessel
The Vessel was a thing of clay.
the sort you use, then throw away.
It was worth little, of itself,
but that vessel was filled with Love.
It poured out Love upon the Living
Free and selfless was its giving.
When at last the clay was dry,
it was the vessels time to die.
It shattered on the sands of time,
now half a lifetime gone from mine.
The vessel was my Dad you see-
and by his gifts I was set free.
I wept the day he met his end-
will I ever see his like again?
God willing on a higher plane
I'll get to call again his name.,
but if my journey ends in dust,
he taught me how as all men must.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Were I Man Grown
Were I man grown, I'd stand
With clean heart, soul, and hand,
An honor to this land.
I would be good and true.
I would not
smoke
and
chew
As many grown men do.
Tobacco is foul stuff.
Hogs
root it from the trough,
And serve it right enough.
I wish I'd every seed
And plant of that bad weed,
I'd make a fire indeed!
And these two lips of mine
Should never
taste of wine
,
Though it might glow and shine.
No wine, no beer, no gin,
No ale, no rum-within
Each drink lurk shame and sin.
And I'd not swear. Ah! when
We boys grow into men,
You'll see true manhood then.
For we shall be and do
Just what I've said; and you
Had better try it, too.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The yin yang moon
Hung upon the sky
Weaves the web of stars
Down the water glide
A half created vessel I am - they say
Measuring sand in my body grain
Flat forehead upward hope sunk unsung
I’ll starve my eyes on Milky waves
Glaring at those lines divine
No I will not be a half created vessel
Lying under the bags of clouds
No I will not be a half created vessel
I’ll be a mermaid of the sky
Embedding the last floating cry
Inspired by ‘Hombre Ante el Infinito’ (Man Contemplating Infinity)
a painting by Rufino Tamayo
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Red, Sparkling Wine
I Have Seen A Sight
Of a Man Falling Down …
… it wasn’t for a Fight
… but it was due to what He’d Found …
… Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… She Should Be A Crime …
Red Sparkling Wine…
She Starts out – Flowing – Smooth
Gets in Your Blood – Then You got Somethin’ to Prove!
You Chase Her Intoxicating Perfume
… must be Brand X … or Lady-Doom …
… Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… Feeling So Sublime …
Red Sparkling Wine…
… Sweet from the Vine, but She ain’t Vintage
Make You Loose Your Mind and Your Hard-Earned Wages
Her Cheap-Thrills… can’t Heal a Heart, that’s Bruised …
You ain’t in Love! … just in a Bottle of Booze …
of Red Sparkling Wine… Once in awhile is Fine
Red Sparkling Wine… Know the Warning Signs ….
of Red Sparkling Wine…
She’s Beautiful, as She Pours
Your Problems – Passed-Out, on The Floor
She’s Crystal-Blood in an Hour-Glass
Her Pity-Promises… just don’t Last…
Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… She’ll have You begging for Dimes …
… to buy … Red Sparkling Wine…
She’ll leave You Broke, You won’t be able to Think
She’s ‘Madam Dope’ … if You Need One More Drink
… of Red Sparkling Wine… Just a Matter of Time
Red Sparkling Wine… Have Another… ‘ Cause I’m …
… Red Sparkling Wine …
poem by MoonBee Canady
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Bottle Of Red Wine
(by bonnie bramlett and eric clapton)
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
I cant get up out of bed
With this crazy feeling in my head.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
You hear what I say?
Gonna love you anyway.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
I went to an all-night get together
And everyone I knew was there.
Had the love that would last forever.
Everywhere I looked, I saw you standing there.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
I cant get up out of bed
With this crazy feeling in my head.
I said get up right now, oh oh.
I said get up right now.
Feel so bad this morning; got a terrible headache in my head.
Do me a favor, baby, do me a favor please.
Please get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up, get up; get your man a big big bottle of red wine.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Quatrain #178 - Go to the wine shop of the true master........
Go to the wineshop of the true master and take with you an empty cup,
it's by staying there awhile, that vessel if fortunate, you'll get filled up.
The wine that the master dispenses is made of knowledge, bliss, love and grace
by quenching your thirst there with it will no longer feel anywhere out of place.
poem by George Krokos
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