Recipe For Scotch Whiskey
Start with cold, fringed beaches,
Laced with Smoke and fog.
In a cauldron.
Add Cliffs and caverns
With just a dash
of Monuments of mystery.
Blend in the breath
Of Ancient peat bog.
Add then a dollop
Of flavor of brine,
To Malt barley
And yeast,
blessed by a priest.
Finally meld in together
In a vast vessel of copper,
The Smell of salt air and tears
Bottle in layers of old Celtic prayers.
Then sit back and wait
For a number of years
poem by David Whalen
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Related quotes
Cheers my friends for single malt
Cheers my friends to single malt
1
It's color is amber it's taste like honey dew
Unpack the cartoon that's brand knew
Feel the bottle nice and rounded
Smell the fragrance of Niagra falls
Cheers my friends to single malt
2
It goes down the throat so very smooth
Crackling over ice like some diwali cracker
Let it simmer and breath for a while
Then sip it slowly with a smile
Don't stop gulp it down without a halt
Cheers my friends to single malt
3
It slowly takes you in it's vice like grip
As one swallows it bit by bit
Swirling away on the tounge
As it gurgel's through down my throat
Tasting better then a million vodka shots
Three cheers to single malt
4
In the highlands of Scotland it is brewed
Comes in wide and narrow bottle
So very viscous so very shrewd
One sip and you stop to brood
So pick up your glasses and pour them down
And say three cheers to single malt
5
Uncork the bottle with a sweet sound
Then watch your mind swim around
Feel the liquor cascading down the throat
Then it's just row row row your boat
Say three cheers to single malt
poem by Anuj Tikku
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Numbness For Sound
A cold winter sun
My feet underground
A pale winter city
A numbness for sound
I'll wait back here
All that you notice
A moment in time
A photograph lost here
Since you were mine
I'll wait back here
Or should I
Start pushing my way back
Yeah, should I start
Pushing my way back
I walk past your room
In deep silhouette
You're tired of racing
You're down and I said
I'll wait back here
A cold end, and evening
A soaked cigarette
I'm asleep on a shoulder
That I've never met
I'll wait back here
Or should I
Start pushing my way back
Yeah, should I start
Pushing my way back
Cold, and the whiskey is wearing
And I'm on the edge of my breath
Oh, and I'm thinking of leaving
I could just lay down
Lay down and freeze to death
A cold winter sun
My feet underground
A pale winter city
A numbness for sound
song performed by by Howie Day
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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St. Ide's
* this is the commercial wu-tang clan made for st. ide's malt liquor
[method] oh yeah, comin through with my shaolin crew
Two cent for a case, gimme st. ide's brew
In the midst of broken bottles and crushed up cans
Methtical's in a jam on how dry i am
[raekwon] ... with st. ides in my system
Crack another i'm blitzed, let's go hit the next one
Hang it over, the object is to stay sober
Lay on the sofa, better yet, dial my chauffeur
[ghostface] who's the wallabee kid, stressed out, could never be son
Ricochet daily hit the deli for a cold one
Naturally blessed, yes, my rap is like a laser beam
That blow between the bushes, st. ide's and i the king of teams
[u-god] crack the bottle of the st. ide's, sippin to those
Who don't realize that drinkin ain't only to be drunk
You can't drive, keep my peoples alive
And if the saint don't know you from a can of paint
[rza] it was hot, on the spot, so i jetted at the block
And i asked for st. ide's, i could tell by the dot
On the back he rebuilt it... not that charcoal filtered
Ice cold bottle tilted... to my cup he spilt it
Aaaaaaaaaah!!! st. ides! mmmmmmmmmmm...
song performed by by Wu-tang Clan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Salt is a preservative. It really holds flavor. For example, if you chop up some fresh herbs, or even just garlic, the salt will extract the moisture and preserve the flavor.
quote by Sally Schneider
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A World Of Love
I was so lonely before you my love.
I had forty years of loneliness drowning my soul.
Forty years of loneliness from tears never cried.
Tears collected from forty years of bitter salt life.
Tears uncried formed an ocean of bitter salt tears.
Bitter salt tears can drown or pickle a weaker soul.
I have waited for you for forty years my love.
The first miracle was the miracle of my first meeting you.
When angels stood among us; during the miracle; of dancing with you.
Since then I have beheld; an incredible transformation; miracle my love.
Since then you have turned; tsunami divided an ocean; of bitter salt tears.
Transfiguration brine sea; into the sweetest of chilled; summer red wine.
Through the miracle of love; the world will be drunk; on spiritual love.
Who would have ever thought; that a flood of love; would come to rein.
A second flood that would save; wash clean an entire world.
A flood of love that would wash; clean all sins of earth world.
Washed clean slowly over gospel time; suddenly as waters of life
gather turn barren wastes; parched deserts into fertile lands of love.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Seven Layers of Heaven
touch,
sight,
taste,
hear,
smell
....
....
seven layers
of heaven
set in me
two more
layers
lost in
myself
clouded
in the views
cast by the world
heaven
comes in
seven
layers
so say hindus,
chinese,
buddhists,
even the muslims
and hell?
between
all
the senses
the heart
that torments
the doers
for
his misdeeds
the fugitive
who manages
to run away from
everybody
but not
the burning hell
of conscience
that pokes
at his top
making him bleed
at the heart
day and night
hell and heaven
bound in this
frame of
heart, soul
and mind
a living hell?
the heaven
in seven layers
the other two layers?
sixth sense?
seventh sense?
two puzzles
that wait
for an answer
hidden
in the realms
that circle
around me
i look into the sky
and journey
to the
eternal sphere
that joins me
to the moons, stars
try taking me
out of this world
and it sure looks different
feel different
a whole new world
the seventh sense
seventh heaven
the sixth?
the woman
who digs
deep into
layers of her own mind
to find the dates
of her own death
and exciting upcoming events
of the world, the tsunami
third world war,
end of the world
a nostradamus
a hell in between all these?
the scorn
from bigots
two layers
of heaven that got lost
in me
covered by
the clouds
five is perhaps
a more lucky number
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Tast malt
Salt is
more in food
Asalt the food...
Salt is
Low in food
Tung out...!
Salt is salt
Tasty malt...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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The Forsaken Merman
Come, dear children, let us away;
Down and away below!
Now my brothers call from the bay,
Now the great winds shoreward blow,
Now the salt tides seaward flow;
Now the wild white horses play,
Champ and chafe and toss in the spray.
Children dear, let us away!
This way, this way!
Call her once before you go--
Call once yet!
In a voice that she will know:
"Margaret! Margaret!"
Children's voices should be dear
(Call once more) to a mother's ear;
Children's voices, wild with pain--
Surely she will come again!
Call her once and come away;
This way, this way!
"Mother dear, we cannot stay!
The wild white horses foam and fret."
Margaret! Margaret!
Come, dear children, come away down;
Call no more!
One last look at the white-wall'd town,
And the little gray church on the windy shore;
Then come down!
She will not come though you call all day;
Come away, come away!
Children dear, was it yesterday
We heard the sweet bells over the bay?
In the caverns where we lay,
Through the surf and through the swell,
The far-off sound of a silver bell?
Sand-strewn caverns, cool and deep,
Where the winds are all asleep;
Where the spent lights quiver and gleam,
Where the salt weed sways in the stream,
Where the sea-beasts, ranged all round,
Feed in the ooze of their pasture-ground;
Where the sea-snakes coil and twine,
Dry their mail and bask in the brine;
Where great whales come sailing by,
Sail and sail, with unshut eye,
Round the world forever and aye?
When did music come this way?
Children dear, was it yesterday?
Children dear, was it yesterday
(Call yet once) that she went away?
Once she sate with you and me,
On a red gold throne in the heart of the sea,
And the youngest sate on her knee.
She comb'd its bright hair, and she tended it well,
When down swung the sound of a far-off bell.
She sigh'd, she look'd up through the clear green sea;
She said: "I must go, for my kinsfolk pray
In the little gray church on the shore to-day.
'Twill be Easter-time in the world--ah me!
And I lose my poor soul, Merman! here with thee."
I said: "Go up, dear heart, through the waves;
Say thy prayer, and come back to the kind sea-caves!"
She smil'd, she went up through the surf in the bay.
Children dear, was it yesterday?
Children dear, were we long alone?
"The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan;
Long prayers," I said, "in the world they say;
Come!" I said; and we rose through the surf in the bay.
We went up the beach, by the sandy down
Where the sea-stocks bloom, to the white-wall'd town;
Through the narrow pav'd streets, where all was still,
To the little gray church on the windy hill.
From the church came a murmur of folk at their prayers,
But we stood without in the cold blowing airs.
We climb'd on the graves, on the stones worn with rains,
And we gaz'd up the aisle through the small leaded panes.
She sate by the pillar; we saw her clear:
"Margaret, hist! come quick, we are here!
Dear heart," I said, "we are long alone;
The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan."
But, ah, she gave me never a look,
For her eyes were seal'd to the holy book!
Loud prays the priest: shut stands the door.
Come away, children, call no more!
Come away, come down, call no more!
Down, down, down!
Down to the depths of the sea!
She sits at her wheel in the humming town,
Singing most joyfully.
Hark what she sings: "O joy, O joy,
For the humming street, and the child with its toy!
For the priest, and the bell, and the holy well;
For the wheel where I spun,
And the blessèd light of the sun!"
And so she sings her fill,
Singing most joyfully,
Till the spindle drops from her hand,
And the whizzing wheel stands still.
She steals to the window, and looks at the sand,
And over the sand at the sea;
And her eyes are set in a stare;
And anon there breaks a sigh,
And anon there drops a tear,
From a sorrow-clouded eye,
And a heart sorrow-laden,
A long, long sigh;
For the cold strange eyes of a little Mermaiden,
And the gleam of her golden hair.
Come away, away, children;
Come, children, come down!
The hoarse wind blows colder;
Lights shine in the town.
She will start from her slumber
When gusts shake the door;
She will hear the winds howling,
Will hear the waves roar.
We shall see, while above us
The waves roar and whirl,
A ceiling of amber,
A pavement of pearl.
Singing: "Here came a mortal,
But faithless was she!
And alone dwell forever
The kings of the sea."
But, children, at midnight,
When soft the winds blow,
When clear falls the moonlight,
When spring-tides are low;
When sweet airs come seaward
From heaths starr'd with broom,
And high rocks throw mildly
On the blanch'd sands a gloom;
Up the still, glistening beaches,
Up the creeks we will hie,
Over banks of bright seaweed
The ebb-tide leaves dry.
We will gaze, from the sand-hills,
At the white, sleeping town;
At the church on the hill-side--
And then come back down.
Singing: "There dwells a lov'd one,
But cruel is she!
She left lonely forever
The kings of the sea."
poem by Matthew Arnold (1849)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Blend, Do Not End
Blend. Sip your coffee.You blend to the colors
Of this room. Smell like a morning perfume of
Small red roses. Open palms. No collarbones.
Blend. Take your time. Familiar faces and freckled
Dreams. Blend, bend.
For God's sake, do not end.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Day After Tomorrow
his clothes smell like Tuesday
on a Friday afternoon;
he bums a smoke, a light,
and looks away.
the lines in his face, jaw set,
like a map to where
he cant quite remember.
he watches the smoke
curl up like infidel prayers
lost on a street corner,
to the lights and the noise.
dont look too close!
you might find your self
staring back at you
from the day after tomorrow!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Sunset (the One We Agreed Upon)
i like your sunset
flaming firmament
hues of fire, red hot iron and orange fruit combined
tasting like salt and sugar and vinegar to me
v-shaped seagulls like fighting planes
and the silence of the vast space
like i am in the library
the librarian on sick leave
and all the books are taken
did i forget the flavor?
(remember we agree on a poem with a color, taste, sound, smell
and whatever)
vanilla, and the sound, i already told you,
pssst, silence.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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That Smell
Whiskey bottles, and brand new cars
Oak tree you're in my way
There's too much coke and too much smoke
Look what's going on inside you
Ooooh that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Angel of darkness is upon you
Stuck a needle in your arm
So take another toke, have a blow for your nose
One more drink fool, will drown you
Ooooh that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Now they call you Prince Charming
Can't speak a word when you're full of 'ludes
Say you'll be all right come tomorrow
But tomorrow might not be here for you
Ooooh that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Hey, you're a fool you
Stick them needles in your arm
I know I been there before
One little problem that confronts you
Got a monkey on your back
Just one more fix, Lord might do the trick
One hell of a price for you to get your kicks
Ooooh that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Ooooh that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
song performed by by 3 Doors Down
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Women Iii
It took a lot of reasoning
Before she got to please him
She made a combination
Of despair and inspiration
A mother and a mistress
A sister to her sisters
A child who hoped her dreams come true
But now she's only stuck with you
At least she has a home to share
A man who comes to do her hair
A garden with a patio
A place to have a barbecue
The envy of her neighbors
Who smile and wave and ask her
If they could live for just a day
In luxury and ecstasy
But it's a long way home
From where she's come
And it's a long way back
Too much to ask
The trash is in the garbage can
The mystery of wonderland
One day she thinks of leaving him
The next she treats him like a king
She hears it on the radio
She sees it on the video
She wait s until the kids have grown
And then she thinks she'll start again
But it's a long way home
From where she's come
And it's a long way back
Too much to ask
Before she gave her friends a ring
She promised almost everything
They ran away to paradise
But everything will have its price
From woman number one
To woman number two
Now she's woman number three
And she thinks that she's lucky
But it's a long way home
From where where's come
And it's a long way back
Too much to ask
From x y z
To women iii
song performed by by Omd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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48
48 is not just any number.
forty-eight with a dash is much more.
four is for the legs of the table.
ty is thank you, and eight is the octagonal
side of the circle chipped on some extras,
unnecessary peripheries,
undisclosed portions, they are removed.
48 is more than a number to me,
they are years that i cannot simply explain
in a day. Years that i cannot compress in an hour.
forty is a boundary and eight is a bonus
with you.
ty is not just thank you. it is also
truly yours.
i remain with you. yes,48 may now just be
a number. it does not really matter, i look forward
to another 48, and i love it when you say,
49 is waiting and 50 is wholesome
in fact, half only of what we lack.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You're My Flavor
The way you love me
Is like a needle in my vein
When you're not around me
You know it just don't feel the same
And I've waited a long time
Just to feel the way I do
Just give me the reason
And I will be all over you
'Cause you're my flavor of love
You're my flavor I'm dreaming of
You're my flavor of love
You're my flavor I'm dreaming of
The way you touch me
Somehow it takes away the pain
And now I'm a junkie
I'm running around without a brain
I got the jones deep inside me
And you are what I wanna do
You give me this feeling
You always make me feel brand new
'Cause you're my flavor of love
You're my flavor I'm dreaming of
You're my flavor of love
You're my flavor I'm dreaming of
Flavor... Ouh come on
'Cause you're my flavor I'm dreaming of
You're my flavor of love
You're my flavor I'm dreaming of
'Cause you're my flavor
You're my flavor I'm dreaming of
Yeah yeah yeah
You're my flavor
song performed by by Lenny Kravitz from 5
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Genie
(don henley/stan lynch/stuart brawley)
Is this what you wanted?
Did you even think twice?
Didnt they tell you that anything that feels this good
Comes with a price
It gave you such a rush
Now you think youve had enough
Its not that easy to walk away
This is the hard stuff
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
And everything matters, everything matters
Every little thing you do
That smoldering tingle under your skin
That sweet, delicious, but not-so-original sin
And when the world becomes too little or too much
The shadow mind contrives
The triumph and the tragedy that we invite into our lives
And adam glanced back at the tree
As he was leaving
Said, baby, thats the price we pay
Knowing is grieving
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
And everything matters, everything matters
Everything you say, everything you do
And the past comes back to smack you around
For all the things you thought you got for free
For the arrogance to think that you could somehow
Defy the laws of gravity
These are lessons in humility
Penitence for past offenses
Consequences, consequences
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
song performed by by Don Henley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unanswered Prayers
Like some school master, kind in being stern,
Who hears the children crying o’er their slates
And calling, “Help me master! ” yet helps not,
Since in his silence and refusal lies
Their self-development, so God abides
Unheeding many prayers. He is not deaf
To any cry sent up from earnest hearts,
He hears and strengthens when He must deny.
He sees us weeping over life’s hard sums
But should He give us the key and dry our tears
What would it profit us when school were done
And not one lesson mastered?
What a world
Where this if all our prayers were answered. Not
In famed Pandora’s box were such vast ills
As lie in human hearts. Should our desires
Voiced one by one in prayer ascend to God
And come back as events shaped to our wish
What chaos would result!
In my fierce youth
I sighed out a breath enough to move a fleet
Voicing wild prayers to heaven for fancied boons
Which were denied; and that denial bends
My knee to prayers of gratitude each day
Of my maturer years. Yet from those prayers
I rose always regirded for the strife
And conscious of new strength. Pray on, sad heart,
That which thou pleadest for may not be given
But in the lofty altitude where souls
Who supplicate God’s grace are lifted there
Thou shalt find help to bear thy daily lot
Which is not elsewhere found.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Pluto's Treasure
Golden objects are most outstanding,
But without loving, they are missing flavor.
But let’s not forget stunning silver,
That the maid often loves to savor.
And brilliant copper, with its rosy sheen,
That every craftsman should well know.
But cold iron, as Kipling likes to say,
From all of these, takes the show.
Not mentioned yet, but not to be overlooked,
Is platinum, our bright and lustrous pal.
Thought to be impure for thousands of years,
But now more valuable than them all.
poem by Albert Price
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Don't Know When
Don’t know when
she said
but as she spoke
her breath rose
like cigarette smoke
in the morning air
and it fascinated you
more than the words
like when your father
blew smoke rings for you
as some kind
of cheap entertainment
but
she said
it will happen
I promise you
and your lack
of response
still gazing
at her breath rising
made her repeat
don’t know when though
and jabbed
at your chest
with her finger
oh ok
you said
coming back
to the moment
her blue eyes
fixed on you
the depth of them
like pools
of blue water
and oh how
to drown there
the thought arose
wanting the when
to be
as soon as
and the image
of her back then
with her eyes
and smile
and that way
she had
of bringing life
to a dull day
like some
top notch dancer
not knowing then
of her death
years later
of cold creeping cancer.
poem by Terry Collett
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Fire By Night, Smoke By Day
It's fire by night and smoke by day
As we lay in our beds just thinking away
We wake in the morning to do what they say
It's fire by night and it's smoke by day
The sun starts to rise and the birds start to sing
We worry about what to do, what to wear and what to bring
We make a to-do list filled with everything
Just like the summer, the winter, the fall and the spring
Fire by night, smoke by day
There's nothing left to blow it away
Our day carries on as we're stuck to the clock
A slave to the ways of the tic and the toc
We carry a key but there isn't a lock
Trying to discover what is already lost
Fire by night, smoke by day
There's nothing left to blow it away
We wait for the water to wash it away
It's fire by night, smoke by day
Our thoughts start to wander as night settles in
Engaged in a fight we're not ready to win
As we wait for a new tomorrow to begin
The fire starts burning all over again
Fire by night, smoke by day
There's nothing left to blow it away
We wait for the water to wash it away
It's fire by night, smoke by day
poem by Navillus Tam
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