To Ensure If A Hot Pot Has More
If there is coffee or tea in a cup I lift up,
A sipping of it will be done.
To savor.
And not to spill or pour a single drop.
But my eyes will be kept,
Watching...
To ensure if a hot pot has more.
Nothing about an experience had in the doing...
That I have enjoyed will be taken for granted,
Again.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Take The Lid Off The Pot
Just take the lid off the pot
Savor all the flavor
Take the lid off the pot
Savor all the flavor
Take the lid off the pot
And savor all the flavor
That's inside of the pot
To then taste what that pot has got
It's been long in simming
With select ingredients
Mouths drool and this is seen
With a stirring up the scent
Eyes are watering with dreams
Now's the time to dip in and get eating
To stop the teasing that was meant
Take the lid off the pot
Savor all the flavor
Take the lid off the pot
Savor all the flavor
Take the lid off the pot
And savor all the flavor
That's inside of the pot.
To then taste what that pot has got
Delicious is the stew
To satisfy those licking lips
Deliciously it soothes
For those who sit and wish
With a wanting more of it!
Just take that lid off the pot
To savor all the flavor
Take the lid off the pot
Savor all the flavor
Take that lid off the pot
And savor all the flavor
That's inside of the pot
To then taste what that pot has got.
'What's the matter? '
There's none left!
'What are you saying?
What do you mean? '
It's gone
All of it
So
Take those memories you've got
And reminisce those wishes
That was inside that pot
There is not even a drop!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Rush To Get Up And Leave
Fabulous and exquisite,
Stays a scent remembered as fresh.
Never to undo with the passing of time.
And embraced as if just yesterday,
Are those memories coming to linger...
Unannounced in a surprise visit.
One finds remaining to be unchanged.
But somehow enhanced the more as one ages.
Although delaying a reluctance,
To become overwhelmed by seduction.
Since one knows how much slower it is to lift,
What was done when younger...
In a process taken for granted and on demand.
Without a single thought given to it.
And this too,
Can be interpreted as fabulous and exquisite.
Depending on who has grown to appreciate,
The benefit of taking one's time to savor the experience.
With no rush to get up and leave.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Coffee!
Coffee beans all ground up,
Coffee in my favourite cup,
Coffee black, coffee white,
Coffee dark, coffee light,
Coffee right, to start the day,
Coffee at work, coffee at play,
Coffee midday, coffee at night,
Coffee to sober, coffee to excite,
Coffee weak, coffee strong,
But maybe instead some Lapsang Souchong! ! ! !
TEA! ! ! ! !
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bite The Hand That Bleeds
I watch you tap for blood in my veins
My heart you feed on to keep you sustained
A parasite that leaves me cold and drained
I'm in shock, and you leave me paralyzed
And the saddest part I realize
The absence of truth behind your eyes
I feel you tapping my soul from my vein!
I feel you tapping again on my vein!
I feel my life slipping away!
One more drop of blood I spill
One more drop you take
One more drop and I will spite
And bite the hand that bleeds
I see you have two faces turning
Changing face to keep me guessing
You have mastered the art of deceiving
Now I know no one trusts you
And to think, not even you do
And I know you salted my wounds
Now I know no one trusts you!
Now I know no one trusts you!
Now I know you salted my wounds!
One more drop of blood I spill
Noe more drop you take
One more drop and I will spite
And bite the hand that bleeds
Bite the hand that bleeds you ...
song performed by by Fear Factory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cup of mocha
You never liked
the taste of mocha
You said it was
coffee laced
with chocolate lies
I always loved it
when the chocolate
masked the coffee
Just enough, and
let it linger nice
A lie coated truth
But, truth nevertheless...
The warm cup of mocha
Stands and grows cold
outside in
Dreams, forgotten,
lie dormant
new, old within
I stretch over the table
as across continents
To hold your hands,
to cup some warmth into;
a coffee grown cold,
a life grown old
We always shared
the mocha
you sipping
seeking the coffee
While I taste
the chocolate,
wait with the coffee
We stare athwart
Our love’s passion,
no longer an obsession
It retains within us ties,
Coffee mingled with chocolate lies
You always said
“Serve me poison,
with a smile,
I will drink it too.
Please, don’t lace it
with chocolate as with
coffee you do.”
You never liked
the taste of mocha
Yet, you always
drink it with me
As you sip,
your eyes crinkle
and I smile too, with you...
poem by O. Sudhir Janardhanan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Is it Tea or Coffee?
Is it Tea or Coffee?
Tell me!
My instant early morning dream
I like it black, white with sugar or cream!
The choice is free
Yet the mind cannot agree
With Tea is a Yippee!
With Coffee it is a Whoopee!
The thought of a little caffeine
The smell of fresh roasted beans
Will once again set off my adrenalin
While my exhausted brain is waiting
That stirring cup of sizzling black
Put on the kettle; spill the beans out of the sack
I will pay the fee; I will pay the levee
I will beg on one knee for a little bit of Coffee
Take a sip of the early morning coffee
Close your eyes and try to see
As you smell the airy aroma like a bee
Tea or Coffee! Perhaps you now understand me
Those swarms of dark brown seeds
They feed my vicious needs indeed
I don’t care how much I pee or how much I wee
For that sparking liquid of hot black called coffee
Copyright 2008 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Fear to let spill a drop and you will spill a lot.
With Silent Lips
I had intended to pour you a cup of tea.
With silent lips.
But the dawn arises,
And it provides my lift!
Not that one...
If you suspect,
I awaken thinking of sex.
Put those thoughts to rest.
Yes,
In the quietness of chirping...
From the morning birds!
I had intended to pour you a cup of tea.
With silent lips.
As we start this day,
Feeling ambitious...
With all BS left,
To a yesterday lived!
But it appears I've been addicted,
To conversate the past.
As it attaches itself,
Like dew on grass.
And celebrating it with a quickness,
While sipping and dismissing what is delicious.
It appears I have a preference,
To discuss my indifferences.
I had intended to pour you a cup of tea.
Seriously...
With silent lips.
Can you find yourself forgiving me?
Knowing we both enjoy the same habits.
Afflicted by rumors and gossip!
And the sharing of it,
To satisfy lives we live.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Watching Me Watching You
I sit by the cutting on the beaconsfield line.
Hes watching me watching the trains go by.
And they move so fast --- boy, they really fly.
Hes still watching me watching you watching the
Trains go by.
And the way he stares --- feel like locking my door
And pulling my phone from the wall.
His eyes, like lights from a laser, burn
Making my hair stand --- making the goose-bumps crawl.
Hes watching me watching you watching him
Watching me
Im watching you watching him watching me
Watching stares.
At the cocktail party with a bucks fizz in my hand
I feel him watching me watching the girls go by.
And they move so smooth without even trying.
Hes still watching me watching you watching the
Trains go by.
And the crowd thins and he moves up close but he doesnt speak.
I have to look the other way.
But curiosity gets the better part of me and I peek:
Got two drinks in his hand --- see his lips move ---
What the hells he trying to say.
Hes watching me watching you watching him
Watching me.
Im watching you watching him watching me
Watching stares.
Hes watching me watching you watching him
Watching me.
Hes watching me watching you watching
The trains go by.
Hes watching me watching you watching him
Watching me.
Hes watching me watching you watching him watching me.
Hes watching me watching you watching him watching me watching him watching.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Java Blues
Rick danko
I walked into a diner
And the blonde behind the counter
She asked if she could help in any way
Hell, I knew by her smile
Her number I could dial
If I was in the need of company
But as I bought some java
Instead she brought me a cup of chicory
I got those java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee
You know that Ill stay high
Ill drink coffee till I die
Dont pour me water just fill up my cup
You know it takes a lot just to keep me up
Cost may be more than you care to pay
What good is money compared to fightin pain
Dont try to cheat
Its impossible to beat
The only pick me up thats here to stay
I got those java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
Oh coffee, oh coffee
Java blues
Coffees got me
You know that Ill stay high
Ill drink coffee till I die
The taste of java is like a cocaine rush
Nobodys gonna stop me from drinkin too much
Down in bolivia the people are insane
They want as much for coffee as they do for cocaine
Dont try to cheat
Its impossible to beat
The only pick me up thats here to stay
I got those java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
The coffees got me now..
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee
You know that Ill stay high
Ill drink coffee till I die
I got the java blues
Oh coffee, coffee
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
Oh the coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, oh coffee
Java blues!
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bop 'Til You Drop
Bop 'til you drop
Bop 'til you drop
Bop 'til you drop
Bop 'til you drop
No matter what
You just can't stop
Bop 'til you drop
Bop 'til you drop
Stick'em up
Give me your money
You act like a big shot
But you're really a dummy
They want your blood
They want every drop
Bop 'til you drop
Bop 'til you drop
Hey!
You tried and tried
But you're a flop
You're thirty five
Still pushing a mop
No time to cop
Do the cretin hop
Bop 'til you drop
Bop 'til you drop
song performed by by Ramones from Halfway To Sanity
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Cup of Coffee
I start my day with coffee as my friend
The beans so fresh, as it blends
Giving out an aroma, that wakes me up
I stumble to the kitchen and look for the cup
I pour some black liquid and sip right away
I just want coffee, to start my day
Then on the road I'm on my way
Coffee is my friend to make my day
Stuck in traffic, I loose my mind
I then sip my coffee and just rewind
I get to work with a cup in hand
Juggling with papers I can't withstand
The coffee at work tastes bitter and cheap
But it's better than getting caught counting sheep
All day long, I make pot after pot
Of black steaming mugs of liquid gut-rot
Tanked up on coffee, I face the day
Taking anything that comes my way.
poem by Meena Mustafa
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Thirty Minutes
I sit in my car with the heater turned all the way up
On a cold winter's day.
I'm watching the snow fall on my windshield.
It obscures me from the other people in the parking lot.
I disappear in it.
The air is hot and stuffy.
It seems to crisp my bedroom eyes
And drain the sagging purple bags that make them heavy.
I'm just slowly sipping my coffee.
From a Styrofoam cup—
Hoping to make the moment last.
John Coltrane's playing "Ogunde"
From acd-r of mixed tracks playing
In my car stereo.
There's no words in it,
But I know he's saying.
Right now, I know what things mean.
I drift off.
I enjoy my 30 minutes on break.
During it,
I write this poem
On the back of my lunch's receipt.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Drop It (An Old Disguise)
Ive been trying to run my life
Using every trick I knew.
I say anything anytime to anybody.
I do what I always wanted to.
But thats no way to keep me happy.
Its an old disguise.
I may be wealthy but I can still be wise
Drop my old disguise.
I cant seem to end my day
Until I feel somethings said and done.
A flashy guitar or a hot new car
Or at least a little fun.
But thats no way to keep me healthy.
Its an old disguise.
I may be wealthy but I can still be wise
Drop my old disguise.
Drop it. drop it. its an old disguise.
Drop it. drop it. open up your eyes.
Drop it. drop it. you aint got nine lives
Drop it. drop it.
song performed by by Reo Speedwagon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drop It
I've been trying to run my life
Using every trick i knew.
I say anything anytime to anybody.
I do what i always wanted to.
But that's no way to keep me happy.
It's an old disguise.
I may be wealthy but i can still be wise
Drop my old disguise.
I can't seem to end my day
Until i feel something's said and done.
A flashy guitar or a hot new car
Or at least a little fun.
But that's no way to keep me healthy.
It's an old disguise.
I may be wealthy but i can still be wise
Drop my old disguise.
Drop it. drop it. it's an old disguise.
Drop it. drop it. open up your eyes.
Drop it. drop it. you ain't got nine lives
Drop it. drop it.
song performed by by Reo Speedwagon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At Home, At Home
Sunday afternoon
at home
sitting on a Persian pillow
watching the outside view
the sea over there
the mountains on the other side
sipping green tea
closing the eyes
meditating
on who you are
what you are
and what i can do for you
i have green eyes and the
tree are changing its leaves into mournful yellow.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For The Purposes Of Making Claims
To take a piece and rave about its taste,
While disparaging the creator...
After learning who it was,
Who spent the time in its delivery.
Only validates,
When something delicious is nibbled...
Some will enjoy it for what it is.
And will become interested,
As to 'who' whipped together the flavor.
Seeking an opportunity to meet and greet.
However...
There will always be that 'one' amongst them all,
Who will convince anyone who listens...
They too should become suspicious,
When someone does something so well,
There has to be another motivation...
Needing further investigation.
Because there just has to be much more,
Than just one's experience...
And love that assists one to excel.
Especially when something done is accomplished,
With such tireless effort.
Someone like this needs an instigated probing.
'Have you tasted this?
It is wonderful.'
~I know.
I enjoyed it much better before I discovered,
Who made it.
Aren't you the least bit curious as to 'how' this was done? ~
'No!
If it's to be enjoyed,
Why should I be the one to make attempts to destroy it? '
~Well...
Some of US like to get to the bottom of things.~
'For what purpose?
To re-create the flavor for the purpose of making claims? '
'Not necessarily.
Just to ensure certain procedures were accurately followed.'
~Oh!
I hadn't thought about that.
You do have a point.
Let me recommend that to the others.~
'By all means.
You do that.
And...
If you have the time,
I'd like to have another piece.'
~Sure.
Me too! ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bop til You Drop
Bop til you drop
Bop til you drop
Bop til you drop
Bop til you drop
No matter what you just cant stop
Bop til you drop
Bop til you drop
Stickem up give me your money
You act like a big shot but youre really a dummy
They want your blood they want every drop
Bop til you drop
Bop til you drop
Hey!
You tried and tried but youre a flop
Youre thirty five still pushing a mop
No time to cop do the cretin hop
Bop til you drop
Bop til you drop
song performed by by Ramones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sipping With A Favorite Chip Dip To Ditto
And the same to you.
To have your holidays enjoyed too.
Celebrated feeling your best.
With wishes as I sit sipping,
With a favorite chip dip...
To ditto.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Coffee Slips
Whene'er I fragrant coffee drink,
I on the generous Frenchman think,
Whose noble perseverance bore
The tree to Martinico's shore.
While yet her colony was new,
Her island products but a few,
Two shoots from off a coffee-tree
He carried with him o'er the sea.
Each little tender coffee slip
He waters daily in the ship,
And as he tends his embryo trees,
Feels he is raising midst the seas
Coffee groves, whose ample shade
Shall screen the dark Creolian maid.
But soon, alas! his darling pleasure
In watching this his precious treasure
Is like to fade,-for water fails
On board the ship in which he sails.
Now all the reservoirs are shut,
The crew on short allowance put;
So small a drop is each man's share,
Few leavings you may think there are
To water these poor coffee plants;-
But he supplies their gasping wants,
Even from his own dry parchëd lips
He spares it for his coffee slips.
Water he gives his nurslings first,
Ere he allays his own deep thirst
Lest, if he first the water sip,
He bear too far his eager lip.
He sees them droop for want of more;-
Yet when they reach the destined shore,
With pride the heroic gardener sees
A living sap still in his trees.
The islanders his praise resound;
Coffee plantations rise around;
And Martinico loads her ships
With produce from those dear-saved slips.
poem by Charles Lamb
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