Quotes about sip, page 4

1/2 Boutelle du Vin!

SHE

When i opened my first boutelle du vin
you was on your second round
like you said: a slight and dusty bottle
But you sip your full wineglass so pleasently!

Telling me nonsense words of love
I talk some advantage of you
Asking you about your past
how many loves i have to ask.

But you are not 2 Chardonnais still
Rich, full-bodied and voluptuous!
and stare me with your liquid rouge look
just when are 1 bottle and twoo!

Like the red blood the vintage told

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poem by Mirna Morgan
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The Ballroom-A Pantoum

'And gilded couples all in whirling trance
Follow holiday revel begun long since.'
-Sylvia Plath, 'Cinderella'

The orchestra begins a new melody.
The crystal chandelier dims; red velvet curtains part.
Guests sip white wine and champagne, and
scores of couples begin to dance.

The crystal chandelier dims; red velvet curtains part
as the violins and cellos play their song.
Scores of couples begin to dance:
Men in tuxedoes, and ladies in scarlet gowns.

As the violins and cellos play their song,
dancers twirl on the white marble floor.
Men in tuxedoes and ladies in scarlet gowns
fill the grand palace hall with applause.

Dancers twirl on the white marble floor;

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poem by Kimberly Kastner
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An Open Letter To Mosquitoes

Oh mosquitoes! Humming
like a helicopter shoddy,
And landing on a helipad
of our fragile body.

If you want to drink our
blood, just drink, who cares,
Because many do the same
from our soul, puerile and bare.

Learn to sip it gently as a
politician of this world does,
Without making loud noise
without making much fuss.

Our other complain is why you
need to sing music in our ears,
Did you have Mozart, Beatles
Madonna or Jackson as peers.

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poem by Hitesh Sheth
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The Kick!

All thoughts disappeared
Wreathed in the refreshing aroma inside my head
Slithering right through the nostrils

Without wasting time i took the first sip
And felt it seep into every corner of my body
The voices all around rose in a crescendo
And drowned me out into the sweet bitterness
Of the mesmerizing black fluid
In the mug tucked within my fingers

I felt it rushing through the veins to my head
And after a few more sips
It kicked me into a abyss of silence and bliss
Eyebrows furrowed
A flashback of random events
From the depths of my subconscious came across my eyes
And then the free fall ended
As i smashed the surface
Right after the final sip

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poem by Falky Flakes
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A Drinking Song

poetry flows from my heart
the way wine gurgles
into this fine crystal glass
dancing with the moon
clinking to a lonesome night
the riveting sublime light
sparkles like the beauty of verses
sip by sip the light flows into me
line by line spirited verses
oozes from my heart
the essence distillled from
matters of heart and soul
my love, would you pour me wine
vintage wine from that bottle
that has caroused with time
to give us its real wonder?
through it i see the beauty
of the world as verses flow
from a seasoned heart that has
twisted, whaltzed, swung, rocked with time

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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Gone Is Another Chance

Stuck in a backed up duct...
A flow has start to slow.
And there one sits until a busted luck,
Erupts!
In a panic that one shows.

And gone,
Is another chance to do...
What one chooses.
Or sip on booze to fuel.

Gone...
Is another chance to do,
What one chooses.

Plucked like a duck that will get stuffed.
To cook until one's done.
One like this is too corrupt.
With winning thoughts to come.

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Inexcusable

When someone has lost credibility,
At the high price paid...
Using the expensive cost,
To betray with deceit laid.

It becomes difficult to sit and sip tea again,
With those who are known...
To do anything to win,
Their own defeat with bleakness gained.

And there is no satisfaction that comes...
Acknowledging those who have chosen,
To have their sheep clothing
Tailored to disguise their wolf eyes.

This will still show...
Once the focus has expose them,
For what is in their hearts!
And that tea will never be as sweet again to sip.

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Party Of Specials

Last night I dreamt a boulevard
some specials sitting rounded beside a table
bags are stagged just under a huge tree
having their own likings sip after sip

no one on the earth except those
only some silent birds listening the grave voice
specials try to communicate with their turn

smells it high
radiates it high
interacts furiously
whether sanctity of words
should be maintained or not

feeling insulted someone trying to tear own hair
someone holding a knife pointing someone
threatning loudly to withdraw last utterance
someone musically
holding the thread to make it tie

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poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Sorrow

To the melody of "Sheng Sheng Man"

I pine and peak
And questless seek
Groping and moping to linger and languish
Anon to wander and wonder, glare, stare and start
Flesh chill'd
Ghost thrilled
With grim dart
And keen canker of rankling anguish.

Sudden a gleam
Of fair weather felt
But fled as fast -- and the ice-cold season stays.
How hard to have these days
In rest or respite, peace or truce.
Sip upon sip of tasteless wine
Is of slight use
To counter or quell
The fierce lash of the evening blast.

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poem by Li Ching Chao
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poem by Anuj Tikku
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