Perfect Ice Cube Recipe
A cup of cold branch water,
triple filtered, extra dry.
Bring it to a rolling boil-
in a moment you'll see why.
Pour it into ice cube trays
and place it in the freezer
This recipe is tried and true
obtained from an old geezer.
Wait two hours, then remove
the ice cubes from their tray.
Notice they are crystal clear,
never cloudy cracked or grey.
Place some in a six ounce glass
making sure that none are wasted
then add a single malt and sip
the best ice cubes ever tasted.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Crystal Clear
How do you feel now? I want to know
Clear as crystal, I can see your face
In my glass of water, I can see your face
How do you feel know? I want to know
Does your love burn like a summer's day
Or is it still on hold in an ice cube tray?
Clear as crystal
How do you feel now? I want to know
Clear as crystal, I can see your face
In my glass of water? I can see your face
Winter has passed now, did you ever know?
Is your love forming like the springtime
Or is it still a snowdrop in the snow so fine?
Clear as crystal
Clear as crystal, I can see your face
In a glass of water, you can see your face
How do you feel know, I want to know
Now I can see you so crystal clear
Crystal clear
song performed by by X-Ray Spex
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whisky in Oval Glass
Oval glass
Like your waistline
Touches my fingers
Whisky in it
Pretty hard
Soften with
Swing ice cubes
Glitters with cold
Sipping by lips
Like your tits
Taste in love
Fuddled feelings
Slowly lie down
Your glance
Being an image in it
Concavely looks at
While filling up
With another ice cube
Desire reminds
Like talking your eyes
In a short time
Empty glass
Looks at me
In a moment
I stand up
And go for a cigarette.
poem by Udaya R. Tennakoon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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042811A antly life
saw ant sipping dew off a leaf
waving antennae, wiping face
hanging there upside is great
i can't imagine doing myself
running up and down at ease
it's wonderful to be small, agile
a crystal cube of sugar is enough
whereas we use three teaspoons
thousands of cubes, thousands ants
everybody is working, no unemployed
amazing team efforts even in battles
retirement is death to them, would you?
poem by Manonton Dalan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ocean Mist, This One Blurs Me, Misty Eyed On The Beach
well here we are,
in the middle of this ocean
of our respective
existences,
you are on your own
now,
i sail too,
this trip of mine
we catch a
glimpse
of the coming rain, the clouds thickening
over the sea
the horizon blurring
with mists,
like cold smoke
rising from the ice
of our glass filled
with sparkling
wine
we are in this foggy
part of
our thinking
you puzzle me
i like to think some more
who can you be
now infected by
yours truly
writing poetry
as you hide
in the thick ocean mist
blue haze
above salt
reducing
visibility
let nature spray some more
mist
like perfume in her handkerchief
dim like some dead stars
and darken
this universe
obscure the moon
blur my senses
i will try
seeing you
and your shadow
sweet
to my expectancies
of a disciple
draining some thoughts
of your past
let the mist of ignorance
dissolve in sunshine
let the haze of our eyes
clear a little bit
with our touch
to the truth
suspend impression
like liquid in gas
pour more liquor
over cracked ice
so i can have a
good sense of
your blue mist
a vaporizer can do more
adding moisture
to the air we want
to breathe
these harsh times
rain in very fine drops;
drizzle, do not fizzle
diffuse yourself finely
like a jet of water
replacing what humanity
lost
let us moisten with mist
this dryness of our
own distant worlds
ocean mist
i have a name, it is put alive
in the serving of
ice cubes on clear glass
soon hear the voices
of cracks
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fixed Ideas
RANKS of electroplated cubes, dwindling to glitters,
Like the other pasture, the trigonometry of marble,
Death's candy-bed. Stone caked on stone,
Dry pyramids and racks of iron balls.
Life is observed, a precipitate of pellets,
Or grammarians freeze it into spar,
Their rhomboids, as for instance, the finest crystal
Fixing a snowfall under glass. Gods are laid out
In alabaster, with horny cartilage
And zinc ribs; or systems of ecstasy
Baked into bricks. There is a gallery of sculpture,
Bleached bones of heroes, Gorgon masks of bushrangers;
But the quarries are of more use than this,—
Filled with the rolling of huge granite dice,
Ideas and judgments: vivisection, the Baptist Church,
Good men and bad men, polygamy, birth-control. . . .
Frail tinkling rush
Water-hair streaming
Prickles and glitters
Cloudy with bristles
River of thought
Swimming the pebbles—
Undo, loosen your bubbles
poem by Kenneth Slessor
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I used to jog but the ice cubes kept falling out of my glass.
quote by David Lee Roth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Concoction
skyblue glass clinking
ice cubes frozen
pouring coca-cola
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Creek
The place where crystal-clear water pulses
through the lush veins of the riverbed
where the moonlit fish flop
gracefully out of the shimmering water,
A true sanctuary of peace
where the soft humming of water
fills you ears with a harmonic rhyme,
Frenzied insects buzz around mindlessly
over the hypnotic mist of the water,
A place of serenity, gingerly expecting
the ever-changing seasons as they flow by slowly,
Children giggling happily as they wade with the curious, nibbling fish
Jade green leaves falling generously into the
embracing water below,
Red-tailed beauties gently hovering under the rushing surface
of their underwater kingdom,
Sweet daisies grazing the edge of the river,
giving off their intoxicating aroma
My most cherished place where I can relax with the river,
and spend endless hours chatting with the fish
poem by Katherine Lyczek
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sugar-cubes!
An ant had found some sugar-cubes,
And ran across to feed;
It ate them all and became fat;
A spider glimpsed the ant!
The ant could not run very fast;
The spider caught it fast;
It threw a web and ate it up,
And it became too fat!
A lizard glanced the spider fat
And flicked its tongue for food;
In moment’s time, it gulped it whole
And went to take a nap!
A cat that came that way then caught
The lizard by its teeth;
And ate it piece-meal with relish;
A dog then chased the cat!
The barking dog caught cat by leg
And bit it till it died;
The master heard the mewing noise,
And struck the dog too dead!
Oh, what a tragedy sequence,
Some sugar-cubes had caused!
The master wept all day and night,
And starved himself to death!
(5-19-2000)
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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favourite whisky
the crisp sound of ice cubes
falling into glass
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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But it is impossible to divide a cube into two cubes, or a fourth power into fourth powers, or generally any power beyond the square into like powers; of this I have found a remarkable demonstration. This margin is too narrow to contain it.
quote by Pierre de Fermat
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Golden Playpen
Im drunk
Cant see my glass
Not worried
Chair dancing man
Tossed out of the golden playpen
Beating the drum of pain and pleasure
You see the street ahead
Just keep walking down it
Look straight ahead
Night club ice cubes crackin
The moneys gone
Dont have a cent
Sex talks
Eats you alive
We go making friends
til were satisfied
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sound Of Bye Bye
i feel at the last moment
the weirdness of the situation
time hangs itself
but you never smell the stinking dead hour
you see, i never had that snorkeling
it was too cold
the see blurs the fish
the rain comes heavily
and so i simply sit the whole day
on one of those rattan chairs facing the blue pool of water
beside the purple bougainvillea tree
i can't say i am sad
perhaps i am just too sleepy to remember anything
or perhaps i fall upon a chasm of the hours
and so i never remember the pain
the hours pass gently
it is already five in the afternoon
the boat arrives and
i am taken back
to the place where i do not belong
i keep on moving for motion's sake
no agenda, no place of destination
just an itinerary prepared by someone
who thinks that money must be saved
as i willing throw them all away
the boat sails upon a silvery surface
the boat has an eye
it is simply doing what must be done
under these peculiar circumstances
slicing the water
making the sound of bye byes.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Part 2 ~ Times Tables
The little girl felt sick at her stomach. She fought back the urge to vomit and cry as she lay in bed wondering where her mother was. The fear of what lay beneath her bed was not as urgent as the more immediate fear that her mother might not come back this time. Her younger brother was in the next room sleeping. He didn't seem too upset by the fact that their mother had disappeared two weeks earlier. He might have been worried but he wouldn't let it show, and they never talked about it. They both knew that their family was different. The word dysfunctional had not yet been coined to describe what life was like in the Taylor's home. How do you describe hell? All she knew was that they were the family all the neighbors on the quiet cul-de-sac whispered about, and that whenever she would go over to a friends house to play their parents would look at her with softness in their eyes. Her best friend Erin told her that everyone on their street could hear the fighting.
One times six is six, two times six is twelve, three times six is eighteen, four times six is twenty four…
The last time she had seen her mother she was screaming gibberish at the top of her lungs. She was spitting out words with so much force that they were unintelligible, the whites of her eyes making her look like a wild animal. The little girl didn't know why her mother was so angry at her dad, but she had gotten use to it being a common everyday occurrence. She had torn the telephone out the wall for the umpteenth time and was throwing dishes at him. When she ran out of dishes she reached into the freezer, pulled out the ice cube tray and began pelting him with ice cubes. All HE was doing was ducking behind the kitchen table, trying to reason with her to no avail. She commonly worked herself up into a lather over the most insignificant things while her father remained calm. If he had better judgment he would have put her into an institution where she belonged, but all he would do was wait patiently for the unpredictable storms to pass, hoping that he could somehow repair the damage. She never understood why.
Five times six is thirty, six times six is thirty six, seven times six is forty two, eight times six is forty eight…
When her mother slammed the front door behind her, the little girl went over her father to console him. One of the ice cubes had hit him on the head and it was bleeding. She wrapped her arms around his huge frame with tenderness. 'Daddy', it's alright. I love you.' she began to say when suddenly the loud sound of crashing metal and glass drew her attention outside. She went to the living room window and could see her mother screeching backwards out of the driveway in her car, then putting it in drive again to ram full throttle into the rear of his car for a second time. Then a third. What was she doing? That was a new car. One that she had insisted on having like a spoiled child. It wasn't even a week old and she had just demolished it, but somehow she was still able to drive off to wherever it was she was going.
Nine times six is fifty four, ten times six is sixty, eleven time six is sixty six, twelve times six is seventy two…
Alone in the stillness of her bedroom she began to wonder if maybe her mother had given herself an accidental concussion and was wandering around somewhere confused. Her father had gone out looking for her again tonight, asking Erin's mother to come over until he returned. It was getting late, but the little girl kept repeating her multiplication ritual, trying not to think about anything else. If she made a mistake she had to start over again from the beginning. It had to be perfect. She had gotten all the way up to her 10 tables now.
One hundred times one is one hundred, one hundred times two is two hundred, one hundred times three is three hundred…
In her minds eye, the sums began to take on a new shape. They turned into days, and then weeks, and then months until she became aware of the prospect that her mother might not back at all. She stopped multiplying and drifted off into the most deep and restful sleep that she had ever had.
poem by Sara Fielder
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Glass Of Water Please
and so the story wants to end itself with a
glass of water.
those who cry after always need
a glass of water.
those whose hearts are broken
those who sob
those who close the window of the niche
those who have nightmares
those who wake up at 3 o'clock in the morning
those who sit on bed and cannot sleep back
always go to the kitchen
open the refrigerator
get a glass and splash
a cold glass of water
this time, i am asking for a glass of water
for i could be
all of the above or you could be one of those
i have described
but who knows we are not one of those
who knows
we are but just anyone who is normally thirsty
and with nothing to ask
simply ask
for a glass of cold water.
and cheerfully, we do not forget to say
please....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Smoke On The Water
We all came out to montreux
On the lake geneva shoreline
To make records with a mobile
We didnt have much time
Frank zappa and the mothers
Were at the best place around
But some stupid with a flare gun
Burned the place to the ground
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky
They burned down the gambling house
It died with an awful sound
Funky claude was running in and out
Pulling kids out the ground
When it all was over
We had to find another place
But swiss time was running out
It seemed that we would lose the race
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky
We ended up at the grand hotel
It was empty cold and bare
But with the rolling truck stones thing just outside
Making our music there
With a few red lights and a few old beds
We make a place to sweat
No matter what we get out of this
I know well never forget
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Steely Eyes
Long frosting,
These cold shoulders.
Once a place chips came and sat,
Now bear solid cubes of ice.
Stacked and packed...
To keep any chance of a thaw,
Away and unmentioned.
Even routine handshakes,
Are gloved to protect from touch.
Friendly ties have been crushed,
To wither into flakes far from melting!
Hearts are frozen.
And heated speech decreases...
Any warmth shown,
In steely eyes fixed not to blink!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Every Ounce Of Strength
(cropper / hayes / porter)
Ill put your pictures all around my wall
Ill build a tower of love that wont fall
Ill do everything I can
Ill try to be your own lovin woman
With every ounce of strength I have
Oh, yeah
Oh, there is nothing that I wouldnt do
To let the world know
Im crazy bout you
Id use all of my womans power
To keep you happy for a million hours
Every ounce of strength I have
Every ounce of strength I have
You can ask for what you want
And a-get what you ask
Id give my all to make
I would love for ever last
With every ounce of strength I have
Oh, yeah
Long as blood runs through my veins
Long as I can see clouds that bring on rain
Ill use a-all of my womans power
To keep you happy for a million hours
With every ounce of strength I have
Every ounce of strength I have
Im gonna keep you happy
With every, every, every, every ounce of strength I have
Every ounce
Im gonna keep you happy
With every, every, every
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reflection
Reflection
By: Adam M. Snow
The reflection in this cracked mirror shows only two;
my essence, my soul; it's also true.
My soul is tainted, my essence is numb;
my dreams grew dark, this is what I've become.
My reflection is cracked; I'm out of place;
my heart grows cold, I need your grace.
I'm falling apart; I've lost my way;
what else do you want me to say?
The rippling water's a mist how can that be?
Do I exist to be with thee?
I am cracked and so is my reflection;
these wounds, they show my affection.
Though I am but one in a reflection of two;
trying to find my place anew.
So let my reflection show who I am;
someone who was to be damned.
Let me be but one;
so that I may be done.
My reflections strain drops of blood;
just leave me here in the mud.
My eyes are stained, my touch is cold;
all I need is someone to hold.
My mouth is silent, my love breaks;
my body's bound, my soul aches.
I am but one in the mirror's looking glass;
looking upon my modern pass.
When will my reflection show;
the truth I do not dare to know?
My reflection is cracked; I'm out of place;
my heart grows cold, I need your grace.
I'm falling apart; I've lost my way;
I'm waiting here for the day.
My skin grew pale, did I died?
I'm here in this corner trying to hide.
My sight has gone; it's the break of dawn;
I'm going back to where it spawned.
The mirror's shattered, not my reflection;
from what I've done this is my infection.
I've been risen yet I fall;
I can't give up on all.
My reflection's viewing pains;
showing me bound by these chains.
I'm forced to face myself in this state;
the mirror shows, this is my fate.
My reflection is broken yet it's whole;
I'm out in the world searching for my life's role.
I'm reaching out through the dark;
searching for the owner of this black mark.
Nevermore does my reflection show;
I'm lost with no where to go.
The mirror's lust has felled;
this is where I dwelled.
My tears fall upon reflection;
this is my resurrection.
The cracked mirror now shows one;
could it be that it's now done?
My reflection's anew;
it's also true.
I'm not the same:
I ignite my flame.
The mirror's now whole with no crack in sight;
I'm no longer in the dark, but the light.
I only love; I do not hate;
I know now that this is my fate.
I faced myself in the mirror;
now that I can see, it's all so clearer.
My ways I've change from what I've became;
I'm the only one to blame.
My reflection is cracked no more;
my pain is gone just like before.
My future is nearer;
all ‘cause I looked in the mirror.
poem by Adam M. Snow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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