Rules: Write a poem for LPiA on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a New Reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month, have written 30 poems for the month of November. (or one, or six, or fifteen) Prompts may be revisited at any time. All members are welcome.
Topic : Write a poem inspired by a favorite cocktail.
Form : Any
Line requirements: Eight or more.
Feel free to reply with comments or kudos as you wish.
11-09-2023, 08:39 PM (This post was last modified: 11-09-2023, 09:27 PM by TranquillityBase.)
Cock-tail is a stimulating liquor, composed of spirits of any kind, sugar, water, and bitters— it is vulgarly called bittered sling, and is supposed to be an excellent electioneering potion, in as much as it renders the heart stout and bold, at the same time that it fuddles the head. It is said, also to be of great use to a democratic candidate: because a person, having swallowed a glass of it, is ready to swallow any thing else.
Being a teetotaler most of my life, except for youthful binges involving beer/rum & coke for the deliberate purpose of disordering my senses, I offer this found poem, sourced from Wikipedia, thus:
The first definition of cocktail known to be an alcoholic beverage appeared in The Balance and Columbian Repository (Hudson, New York) May 13, 1806; editor Harry Croswell answered the question, "What is a cocktail?"
I much prefer psychoactive potions such as cannabis, and could poeticize ad nauseum on that subject, but alas, that was not the prompt.
Then again, I know what Tiger will say, that I could maneuver around the prompt, so I'll add a little cannabis ditty:
Keep to your cocktails, but roll me a joint, and after three puffs I can see, for a moment or two, the light of things unknown on earth or in heaven. I can watch a grasshopper excrete and be as excited as if I were viewing an eclipse. Give me a fly in a jar and I can see God.
The cocktail I still favor
for its Nixon-era memories
is Harvey Wallbanger:
sweet orange juice,
neutral vodka
Galliano for its inimitable promise
of somehow emulating
an Italian count.
Then down the path of cinematic
calendar pages wet-ringed
with Tequila Sunrises,
late-morning Bloody Marys
and last of all the pale-eyed
Vodka Gimlet
with its bitterness
of tonic water
neutral vodka slowly deadening
and sweet-sour Rose’s™ Lime Juice.
Down here at the end
a final hint of flavor
straw-sucked from melting ice
soon gone–
I just say,
that’s life.
Oddly enough, the Harvey Wallbanger was previously known as "Duke's Screwdriver."
Found out my friends knew my neighbor, sort of
Before they met us, before we lived here,
They were driving through back roads
With big fancy houses, just enjoying driving,
And they saw a body. Jessica's body.
This body was breathing, in a ditch in the dark
And mumbling about her Uber driver
Well they picked her up and drove her around
To her townhouse, up her stairs, and babied her
Until she fell asleep, before quietly leaving.
I'm gonna have to tell her about this.
Everything you need to know
about the Blue Lagoon
is right in it's name: tall,
refreshing, and bluer than the bluest
Caribbean sky when the sun's high
and the temperature's warm.
It falls in line with other tropical drinks:
simple syrup brings the sweetness.
Zesty notes—tart, boozy.
The color is artificial.
The base spirit is vodka over crushed ice.
It's recipe involves shaking, straining;
makes me want to stay away
from cordials altogether.
You need to know:
