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To serve some Sake
Soft light bathing the mountains
Eyes gleam as we pour
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From Wikipedia:
In Japan, where it is the national beverage, sake is often served with special ceremony, where it is gently warmed in a small earthenware or porcelain bottle and sipped from a small porcelain cup called a sakazuki.
Sake is often consumed as part of Shinto purification rituals. Sake is served to gods as offerings.
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Sake with old friends
Leaves spring forth from hazel tree
Sharing ancient boughs
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From Wikipedia:
In Japan, where it is the national beverage, sake is often served with special ceremony, where it is gently warmed in a small earthenware or porcelain bottle and sipped from a small porcelain cup called a sakazuki.
Sake is often consumed as part of Shinto purification rituals. Sake is served to gods as offerings.
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Ken Pepiton Feb 3
Fervency referring to effectuality as measured
by men,
I suppose. Positionally, top line.
Challenges are not all games,
all games are challenges.

That which he fears comes.
Anticipate war, teach your son to
access participation trope level
anticipatory experience
imagining dying
now
design a death that does not damage, eh,
no damming, no pile of useless hordes,
dammed to collect the flow
anticipating need
when need is non exist-ant.

Greedy gut.
Discussing spells with my grandsons, with an emphasis on secrecy being
a thing, in the past, but now we have Herd level AI, art intervention.
At high tide, the sea ejects
foam and glass fishing floats.

We wait for the waters to recede,
tiptoe around anemones and *****;
I spot a small green globe.

She says it belongs to a Japanese goddess,
her eyes plucked out by a vengeful lover
and cast into the deep.

I see only an old sake bottle
crafted into a sphere,
etched with sand and netting patterns.

Tomorrow, I will look for agates
while she searches for the goddess’s other eye.
preston Jun 2020
Your beautiful heart's glow is so often hidden behind the clouds of stubborness--  your lack of ownership within pretty much everything that is about who it is that you truly are. You ride.. skirting on the edges, never truly committing to much of anything that is inside of you.. putting pieces of yourself out there, yet never truly taking ownership of much of anything that truly is of you. You may feel things in their fullness that is of you within certain, contained moments, but the glow of those glimpses into your own self is far too often short-lived-- within something in you that almost completely washes it all away..

The nearly predictible pendulum-swing now so far the other way, almost completely denying those very real moments of connectedness and inner clarity within you..

And I am not one to want to live and operate between the swing's extremes, as it is there at that place that you expect others to pick up all of these un-owned pieces for you, and it is there also at that place that you have a whole string of men-- now.. and in your past, who all tumble and orbit in your wake in their desire to put together for you things that were never theirs to put together..

They were always things for you to take ownership of and become accountable for, but you will have no part of that, and so here you now float within all of your unaccountability, and will continue to float- as long you continue in your choice to not fully engage within yourself.
.. And you go on and say that I do not care about your heart, but you do not own much of anything that is about that amazing heart that is within you,
so how would you even know?

You don't..  but even if you did,
it would all but become buried once again within all that is unowned within you.

Loving in to a system like that, is not a good stewardship of one's ability to love.. so if there is some remote form of goodbye embedded within these nearly indiscernible conveyances..
then I thank you in advance for its  gracious release. You are not getting any younger, my beautiful.. one day this beauty-laden, cloud to cloud game of hide and seek is no longer going to work quite so well


The reception's gotten fuzzy..
the delicate balance has shifted.
Put on your gloves and black pumps,
let's pretend the fog has lifted.
Now you see me, now you don't.
Now you say you love me
pretty soon you won't.
If we get our full three score and ten
we won't pass this way again..
so kiss me with your mouth open,
turn the tires toward the street

and stay sweet.
https://youtu.be/dL1TRk6Q0pE
Sara Mar 2020
since lies are sweet
and the truth is bitter
i'm not surprised
i liked you better
Lilly F Dec 2019
I always played it safe,
but now I'm willing to risk losing everything
just to try to have something better,
you make me do this

©L.F.
these things never end well
Sara Nov 2019
there's a world inside your mind
and it wants you to find
a place for others,
without changing
the bookshelves
the music
or the way that you walk through the door.
It might be the means of replacing
the fear which stops you from living
and giving
and laughing
as yourself.
don't be afraid to open up
Mark Toney Oct 2019
Poetic delicacies,

Chilled haiku sake,

Sautéed clerihew au jus,

Free-range limericks

baked to perfection,

Footle fries,

Yum!
10/17/2019 - Bon Appétit ! Poetry form: Epulaeryu - A poem that is entirely about food. It has seven lines with a grand total of thirty-three syllables. The meter of the poem is set so that it is, 7/5/7/5/5/3/1.  The poem is supposed to revolve entirely around the dish. Each line is supposed to present information about it. The end of an Epulaeryu poem ends with an exclamation point because the poem itself is about the writer's excitement and enjoyment toward the dish that they are writing about. The final line, the one-syllable word is meant to sum up the feelings that the writer has. The Epulaeryu poem is a way to express these positive feelings about food and is a fun way to do so. - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2019 - Bon Appétit !
Erian Rose Apr 2019
Sometimes I wish I could disappear
Abandon the world the way it is
Turn invisible once more
But that'll never happen
For the sake of you
For the sake of me
I'll disappear
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