Wine Tasting Fermentation
nose smell aroma
colour clarity texture
elixir extraordinaire
taste palate tongue
roof inspires trace oak
season aged barrel
cooper creation artist
wooden ribs melody effect
fabric harmony stir ferment
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I hear the Lark.
I hear the lark, said Alice,
it sings in my ear like an
angel's voice, brings me
pleasure in my darkest
hour, plays in my mind
like an echoing dream.
I see the morning sun,
its beams dance at my
feet, swirl around like a
child at play, my eyes
rejoice at the sight I see,
dread the thought of
blindness in some new
day's gift, push away the
ideas as if they were flies,
push all away like one fulfilled.
I smell the lily's scent, its
aroma brings me out in a
rash of joy, its smell invades
my nose like a vanquishing
army, opens me up to the
pleasures of smell, makes
me want to sniff forever,
drink in until my head swims,
my sleep recalls the aroma's kiss.
I feel my lover's fingers along
my flesh, sense his skin smooth
along mine like a skater on ice,
like one sliding across a polished
floor, the fingers caressing like
a butterfly's touch, tickling to
laughter, fondling until my voice
says, ah, don't stop, fill me up,
squeeze all on until the final drop.
I breathe the wind's breath,
inhale the morning's freshness,
the air of angel's exhalation,
my lungs take in like a greedy
girl, sup in each particle as I
dance along, remembering now
the air of summer, the filling
of my lungs like a fish the water,
opening my lips in a happy song,
my voice singing across an open sea.
I taste my lover's tongue touch
mine, feel the tongue and mine
in dance, lick and lick until the
pleasures erupt, the places engorge
and swell, I taste the saltiness
of my lover's sex, the sweetness
of the heavenly hive, the tongue
swimming along my lover's thigh
and arm and on and on, my taste
buds explode into a rainbow of
colours, my tongue feeling like
a snail's flesh, moving and sensing
until my mind says, No more, no
more and I hear the waves of dark
depression surge in on my shore.
poem by Terry Collett
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Something Foul And Sweet
you smell something foul and at first you may say at once
' i don't like this! '
and then you feel something thorny
and you will say ' i detest this'
and then you see
the pale color of the flesh
and you say ' what is this? '
then you taste it
lick it with your tongue
and savor every meat
letting it roll inside
your mouth,
enjoy the milky
texture and then you say
'Omg! this is heaven! '
such is the durian experience.
try it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Restlessness
I have been blessed
With five senses-
To hear, touch, see, smell and taste,
But words fall inadequate
To express all that I experience,
Even if I take all the right ingredients.
Just as I always do
When I sit down to cook.
I first decide what the family will like to eat,
And then go shopping for the best vegetables and meat
Paying attention to colour and flavours
And washing them in running water with patience
Then chop, puree or make juliennes,
To stir fry them in a pan
I don’t have to measure the spices,
As I let it simmer the aroma rises
As the children walk in they can tell
It’s coming out quite well.
Years of experience
Has fine tuned my culinary skills
But I am still a novice at composing poems, I admit
And wonder when I will reach the finesse of likes of Keats?
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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This Room
Your sweet smell of an aroma is all over this room and,
You are the river flowing into my heart;
And like the cocoa from Ivory Coast with a sweet taste,
You are all that i need in this room.
Come and make love to me and,
Let me bear you children;
For your sweet smell of an aroma is all over this room.
This room is made for you and i,
This room will surely take us to the skies!
For you love is the only one needed in this room.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Smell The Fragrance
Come for yourself here and taste the fragrance
With your nose, far removed from the smell of fatality;
Peace, you gifted souls! Peace until the desires are shown!
I caught the ball of light as I lit the horizon,
For entering the minds of others was contemplation.
This deed has forgotten all differences
Between contending dogmas and truths.
Come for yourself and drink from the elixir
Called life, its dealings are numerous and exact.
poem by Naveed Akram
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That Music Extraordinaire, Mozart
That music extraordinaire, Mozart,
Who from his tender days, played with desire
Musical from the bottom of his heart.
Sweet notes from his music he did impart
That captivated audience to admire
That music extraordinaire, Mozart,
Whose tones can set an emotion to start
With a charm to have their hearts raised on fire
Musical from the bottom of his heart.
With pleasant pace from his great style of art
Is such that shows he was such a live wire,
That music extraordinaire, Mozart,
Whose harmony when heard is nice and smart
Can cheerfully raise hearts to go much higher
Musical from the bottom of his heart.
Joy occurs from such wonders that does chart
In tremendous ways that truly inspire.
That music extraordinaire, Mozart,
Musical from the bottom of his heart.
poem by Obinna Kenechukwu Eruchie
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We Woke In First Dawn
We woke in first dawn
in many dawns thereafter
in time we touched hearts minds
in time we gave pure love
to all who would receive
in time we wrote our souls
upon strands link symmetry
dew dropp diamond cobwebs
sparkles rainbow ripe pearls
mists quiet perfection seams rainy
in time we spun sunlit silk words
to catch songs sung mellow light rays
time touch minds with texture perception
vast wealth written taste creative nature
sing souls back to great spirit harmony
dedication to poetic detail soft sings
inspires creation into artistic conception
we gift holy spirit love healing vibrations
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Smell Of Money
The smell of money
Like flies and honey
Appeals to something
More immediate than mere foreplay
And now if you're hungry
This one is on your mind
The aroma takes my will away
Who does this young man think he is?
Who needs this turgid love he gives?
For though he strives to please me
He can't hit the spot like fifty g's can
How can i help but notice
The smell of money
It makes me runny
I want a man whose been endowed
And is preparing to pay
And if you're tipsy
It even smells like love
The aroma takes my will away
It takes my will away
The aroma takes my will away!
song performed by by Utopia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Turning Water Into Wine
Poetry can be like turning water into wine
drinkers should sip in contemplated taste
layers of multiple meaning oak cask aged
can be shared with a fine meal in company.
Yet never forget shallow drafts intoxicate
fog brain when empty stomach consumed
in desert climes water best served in purity
prevents stupification by fluid articulate vine.
Wine seasoned too well is sweet melody not engaged.
True elixir manipulates feelings stirs emotions in throat
time melts into shadows skin tissues peeled mind teased.
Medicines can be raw mind game bitter taste believed.
Harsh stick in throat taste perceived judgement cured
body rebels at infusions infection fights incentive lured.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Sweet emotion
The taste of raspberry on her lips
Green apple candy
And fruit with strawberry dips
Aroma of lavender after a shower
Basil on pizza
Put there just to tease ya
Licorice sticks with sweet vanilla swirls
A beautiful girl with long golden curls
Cave into the emotion
A brand new puppy with big brown eyes
His aroma is lovely and pungent
I think I'll call him cinnamon
The smell of cloves on a freshly baked ham
And the taste of sweet candied yams
Make me drool like cinnamon
And the fool that I am.
Veil, lord, mine eyes till she be past
Veil, Lord, mine eyes till she be past,
When Folly tempts my sight;
Keep Thou my palate and my taste
From gluttonous delight.
Stop Thou mine ear from sirens’ songs,
My tongue from lies restrain;
Withhold my hands from doing wrongs,
My feet from courses vain.
Teach, likewise, ev’ry other sense
To act an honest part,
But chiefly settle innocence
And pureness in my heart;
So naught without me or within,
Shall work an ill effect,
By tempting me to act a sin,
Or virtues to neglect.
poem by George Wither
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Taste The Summer
Can you, can you taste the summer?
I do, I find it in your mouth
Now if I have a weakness it's for sweetness
And it's floating on your breath, the sweetest melody
Doo doo doo doobeedoo
Can you taste the summer?
Sure we can make it till the evenings
Cool haze is reflected off your thighs
Long days are coming up and staying up and playing
Music of the falling stars, a melody (melody...)
Doo doo doo doobeedoo
Can you taste the summer?
Wild orcid on the wind you know
Just where it's blowing
So fresh, fromyour lips is born the melody
Doo doo doo doobeedoo
Can you taste the summer?
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Symbolic Stanzas' Sonnet Celebration response to Marion Mantel - The Painter
Pure poet imbibes artist's brush
creation's canvas celebrates
colour pigmentations' crush
inspires lyres' songs innate.
The timeless tides of metaphors
take form from morph hue cues,
as soul's semantice semaphore
signals sends, imbues.
Symphonic stanzas canvas caught
showers sublime compound,
symbolize synaptic thought
round watershed surround.
There none need karmic quest, request:
act/fact of being's freeing rest.
(24 April 2012)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Song
There is a song in my head.
It won't allow me to rest.
I still feel the melody playing in my breast.
The melody, the memory of your touch.
The harmony, the joy of my thighs and my lips,
As we welcomed you.
There is no music; I long for you,
Our dance and the movement of your hips.
The taste of you still lingers on the tip of my tongue.
We both sung this our beautiful song.
The senses have not forgotten you.
The song in my head, its like none I have heard.
It needs the music, that only you can play,
Gently on my back with your finger tips
Oh please give me peace.
Let us sing this song, I long for release.
There is a song in my head….
poem by Monciana Edmondson
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Composite Compositions
When ebony and ivory.
Are treated with equality.
Then they can work in harmony.
Producing tuneful melody.
Each one alone is limited.
Because it is inhibited
By mistaken racial views
Which prove to be of little use.
The world is not just black and white
And even they aren't opposite.
There are so many shades between
Which add their colour to the scene.
I recognise all men as kin
Despite the colour of their skin.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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It's not the aroma of the soup that tells you whether it's sweet or not, but it's the tongue's taste.
The Illogical Dream
it rains ash on the roof
all the residents hide in fear
and then it stops
a child climbs the roof
opens his mouth and lets his tongue
taste the ash
there is something inside it
the child calls his mother
saying it tastes like shrimps
and so all the people climb the house
stays on the roof and
had their feasts
that whole day when the sun
never shines.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Red;
Red is the colour of anger welling up inside me,
Red is believing and then having doubt,
Red is the colour of love and romance,
Red is the colour of the end of my nose on a cold winter day.
The colour of little red riding hoods coat,
Red is mars high up in the sky;
The colour that flushes my cheeks after playing sport and getting embarressed.
The colour of my sore sad eyes after crying.
Red is the colour of my warm blood flooding my veins,
Which shows Human Bondage,
Which shows the life within me,
Red is the colour of ambition burning my soul,
Red is the colour of the devil, which feeds me my power.
poem by karlia Ashlyn
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Healthy fruit - Guava!
While I entered into my kitchen,
The aroma of a nice fruit pierced my nose!
It gave an euphoria to my sense,
O' It is a smell of Guava!
Yellow in color,
Ripened in nature,
It invited me to eat
and taste;
I took the fruit in my hand,
I took the knife too kept aside,
I cut the fruit gently with care,
into pieces of four;
I tasted the fruit, Guava,
It was yummy yummy,
Very tasty and yummy,
Healthy fruit - Guava!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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