"bergamot" poems
For the sake of some things
That be now no more
I will strew rushes
On my chamber-floor,
I will plant bergamot
At my kitchen-door.
For the sake of dim things
That were once so plain
I will set a barrel
Out to catch the rain,
I will hang an iron ***
On an iron crane.
Many things be dead and gone
That were brave and gay;
For the sake of these things
I will learn to say,
“An it please you, gentle sirs,”
“Alack!” and “Well-a-day!”
3.9k
Lavender & Honey
You know the age old question:
If you were a drink
What would you be?
I must be alcoholic.
My highs and lows are so extreme.
And it seems i've been transforming
A lot of good little ****** girls
Into blood lusting sirens
As of late.
I would come in a tall glass
Brimming with lavender & honey.
Honey is usually sweet,
But sometimes
Can be overshadowed in bitter.
And much like nectar
I didn't care for myself as a child.
Lavender
Because I try to be soothing
And envelop you in love
You can tell me of your pain & fears
And I will hold them closer than my own
That's what lavender is for, you see.
Comfort.
I suppose I could have
A hint of bergamot as well.
Though I swear i'm not pretentious.
I'm just trying to make things Interesting.
So what do you think?
If I was a drink.
Would you drink me?
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 12:51 PM UTC
I met a gorilla
Gardener
In a jungle
Of native species
She kept her oxeye
Daisy on me the whole time
A cowslips past unnoticed
By the blush red columbine
Lily of the valley was
Sporting a fox’s glove
The cornflower and the cardinal
Seek guidance from above
A swamp of soured milk weeds
Seeps past your eyes
The firmly rooted ragged robin
Looks up awestruck at the skies
The bergamot was wild
Running circles round the yarrow
Black eyed Susan moped along
With her bluebell filled wheelbarrow
Good dogwood sets paw after paw
Creeping through the common nettle
As lance-leaved coreopsis
Charges in to test his mettle
I left a gorilla
Gardening
In a jungle
Of native species
Aug 4, 2019
Aug 4, 2019 at 4:19 PM UTC
*If you want to talk of sense,
Find me at midday.
Otherwise speak in riddles
Of bergamot
And fey.*
'Q
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 2:01 PM UTC
His sweat smells like Benneton
Fresh against the searing sun
I close my eyes and breathe in
The breeze that carries his fleeting aroma
Black currant
Bergamot
Cotton flower
Water
Cedar
White musk
Apr 14, 2011
Apr 14, 2011 at 8:25 AM UTC
Symbol: The crab
Opposite Sign: Capricorn
Meaning: The nurturer
Modality: Cardinal
Element: Water
Ruling House: The fourth
Ruling Body: The Moon
Motto: I feel
Birthstone: Pearl
Color: Grey
Metal: Silver
Flower: Accanthus
Fragrance: Bergamot
Lucky Day: Monday
Numbers: 1,4
Lucky Colors: Blue, Yellow, Green
Lucky Flowers: Tulip, Sacred lily
Cancer is: intuitive, psychic, sensitive, creative, possessive, moody, domestic, empathetic and insecure.
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 1:28 AM UTC
~
*Bergamot morning
the astronauts are sleeping
and she dreams like a mannequin
ceiling stars abound
like hummingbirds in celestial flight
about the nectar of
young bodies, young machines
we drew a map together
from burst to bloom
from fever to neckline
from scale to mirror
pretty scar, a thing of awe
when the curious girl
realized she was under glass
raining in time lapse
she traversed me ad rem
with might and main
I didn't have the heart
to wake us from
her brainchild's motif*
~
Jun 8, 2023
Jun 8, 2023 at 2:07 PM UTC
Nanny, I will see you on Sunday
Palm to palm, washed. Surrounded by venetian pink walls
Rose Du Barry pink sink?
Greener shabby scalloped teacups
Earl Grey
Sweet
Malty
Much too much sugar
Diminished flavor palate
Sharp mind
Bergamot
Intensely cutting flavor
Please, dance with me in Italy.
Mar 3, 2022
Mar 3, 2022 at 10:14 PM UTC
Hear her soft lilt before espying her
from the promenade?
Listen carefully for mondegreen.
This morning she will come out
of the water, risen from froth,
made of the same elements
as Adam's Eve,
a pastiche dressed in summer's flurry,
transpicuous & clung-to,
amaryllises strung about
hair & thoughts,
the sinfully twisted scent
of Bergamot Orange
filling the nostrils as they flare.
Shall she succeed in coaxing you back
to a tree that once held such promise?
Jan 9, 2020
Jan 9, 2020 at 10:45 AM UTC
Are you blowing bits of glitter and
alcohol now, holding girls' hands
drowning
in the smell
of Obsession by Calvin Klein
(warm, but musky, bergamot, makes me want to kiss necks)
Are you having fun over there, pretending [lying]
like you did
with me?
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 1:12 AM UTC
You’re hijacking
my dreams and
forcing my reason to
walk the plank and
yet you hide your
jolly roger behind
a beautiful curtain
of handcrafted
self doubt and
insecurities.
It’s almost a cruel
joke that I’ve already
cut my wings to
daydream with the
stars, wishing for
sleep, but never finding
an ounce in this endless
sea of silent background
noise spiced with mint
and sage and bergamot.
I just hope that
my words will keep
me company enough
to not be lost among my
ever shifting thoughts and
anxiety driven panic attacks.
May 3, 2012
May 3, 2012 at 12:00 AM UTC
I lean my head on the windowpane,
and watch the snowflakes swirl
and plummet to the ground;
your room is warm and smells like Earl Grey tea
and mahogany;
words spill out from cluttered shelves
and pour out of half-open drawers;
I sit in your favorite chair,
all alone;
my brittle fingers,
with their hollow bones,
search for pieces of you,
hidden away in nooks
and corners,
in leather bound volumes
and lingering notes of Bergamot.
The clock is ticking loudly,
like always,
and I sit and watch the door.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 9:35 AM UTC
My mind gets filled
Thinking about bergamot
And windows above
The kitchen sink
Aprons and herbs joining
Hands, brewing tea
Happy rain, calm seas
Ancient ferns and sprouting trees
Cobblestone walls, wooden beams
My mind gets filled
Thinking of peace
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 1:56 PM UTC
at the desk,
a Cytherean lover,
with tobacco stains on his
fingertips —
his affinity for
parchment paper
soaked in bergamot
and sandalwood
left me alone
with the cosmos.
on an eclipse,
a cigar graced his lips…
my favorite trick was
the halos he blew around
the moon.
the constellations were
yellowing notes
by antique tapers
(“years and years,” the
telescope hums),
and the Scientist paints me
another Jovian lullaby.
coffee lives in Starry Night
because of him...
That familiar redolence
as I browse the bookshelf.
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 10:15 PM UTC
some days the sunset is permanent, it's foreseeable.
it's all soiled with a deep amber, the skies, the pink walls,
the long shadows on the ground.
city smells in the air, soft bergamot scent from his black hair,
november rain.
in those days you are bereft, it's foreseeable.
love is remembered and withered, out of the scene, and tears are no more.
his trembling sigh a lament,
your hot tears a passion so fervent,
your doleful detriment.
they said life is beautiful,
but you have tasted heaven once, and they haven't,
and you believed it was something inside of him,
has awakened something carnal and ancient,
yet you knew he wasn't of heavens,
only one of the transience fragilities of earth,
but this was paradise to you.
you wanted to believe life is beautiful,
but his moan was a mourn to all the lighter things
you have lost in life,
and for that, your happiness is not easy.
you lost something in this life and it's found until it's no more.
you knew this, despite a paradise was transient, and colored of flame,
it's a paradise, still.
life is beautiful but it grows blue, grey, crimson, pink.
and some days it's a permanent sunset,
in those days there are shadows of heaven on earth, you see,
his shadows lengthening on the ground
bleeding into the lights, everywhere.
Feb 6, 2021
Feb 6, 2021 at 11:35 PM UTC
Overcome with excitement
Lust
Feelings he doesn’t understand
And neither do I
Top notes of bergamot and lemon
I grow anxious
Hopeful?
He breathes in as hard as he can
Middle notes of freesia and white rose
He can’t get enough
It’s driving him wild
It’s driving me insane
“It reminds me of her”
He says
Base notes of musk and sandalwood
I crumble
Her...
But of course
Nov 9, 2017
Nov 9, 2017 at 1:44 AM UTC
The alarm clock alarmed me only
slightly
I rose up and may say rather sprightly
for the seasoned old trout that I be.
Later
when I'm out and about on my errands she sends me a message to tell me she loves me
and not to forget to get bergamot tea,
Well
bergamot me
bergamot tea
what will they dream up next?
I send a reply
which says
I
Love you too and I shall not forget to get bergamot tea.
Some things tickle me
like
a jolly good cup
of
Bergamot tea
She tickles me too
but
that's a different story.
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 1:26 AM UTC
Talk to me like rosemary and oil,
Like the sour with the sweet,
The heat of the noodle stew,
The first sip of a red wine,
The juicy steak with thyme
And shiitake
Look at me with eyes as gravy
And talk to me like honey
That drips like melting ice,
Like fennel and onions,
And biscuits with peaches
Talk to me like umami risotto,
With leeks
Like viola lemonade
And cinnamon cherry pie
With lime
Sip me like your creamy earl grey
And talk to me like toast and egg,
Like bergamot marmalade
Talk to me this way
May 8, 2021
May 8, 2021 at 11:09 AM UTC
I taste your bergamot nectar.
Orange rhythms entice any suitor.
I drizzle you with honey in the midst of true friends
To calm all tensions in the mist of turmoil.
Hence I shall love you.
You shall love me.
And that is how it shall be.
For all eternity.
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 7:00 AM UTC
I have a perfume called Vida.
It smells like bergamot and limes
And it makes me feel alive.
It is regal in a bottle and whenever I wear it, I am complemented for
How sweet I smell.
This perfume doesn't bring me life, however,
(My mother brought me life and my soulmate keeps it going)
It simply reminds me that Vida is in fact within my veins-
It reminds me that I am alive even though there are days where it feels like
I am dead.
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 4:23 PM UTC
she.
rising with the sun, she rubs her eyes and peers gently at the figure beside her, breathing softly and in time with the delicate morning
waves.
her lips curl lightly at the edges from the sight of the watery morning that peaks through the blinds and paints peach-colored lines on his
back.
********* the string to her tea sachet her love steeps throughout her ribs like the flavor of bergamot throughout tea water.
shifting her gaze to the ocean, she basks in the salty aroma wafting in
from the sea.
it sends a breeze, caressing her cheeks, airily lifting her unruly waves, and dancing around her fingers.
a muted chuckle escapes from under her tongue.
misted, cerulean, and undulating, the sea beckons her presence.
she finds no resistance in her heart, so, light as the morning, she scoops up her worn journal and pen, and sets about the open beach.
Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 1:16 AM UTC
I'm climbing out of
The gelatinous malaise
Of depression
As it relinquishes
It's life draining fingers
Off of my
Barely breathing
Raw throat
I feel the light of
Potential fill me
And I hope
Yet again
For a better day
A better life
One day
Maybe today
As I enjoy the freedom
A reprieve gives me
I'm okay
I can breathe
I can aim small
Baby steps
Without the anxiety
Of needing it
And the next 3 big steps
To be already done
It's okay if I'm flawed
And if I messed up
It's even okay if
I can't fix it
Maybe one day I can
But it won't be today
Today is for delight
In the small things
Like the lovely smell
Of bergamot
In earl gray tea
Or the softness
Of a pets' warm fur
Pressing against you
Today is for beauty
Seen in happy smiles
Of happy people
Who aren't letting
The harsh world
Get to them
It for the magic
That is music
Dancing sound
Today is for the esquisite flavor
Of lime sherbert ice cream
Sweet creamy cold
Refreshing in the heat of summer
Today is for many things
But not for all the negativity
Today is for a break
A gentle pause of life
For I have been sick
Time to recover
To heal old wounds
To learn how to live again
For I have forgotten
It's been so long
Today will be great
Because I will make it so
Aug 20, 2017
Aug 20, 2017 at 9:19 PM UTC
Quake beneath my soft tissue,
tectonic passes at the good china
warm like stray memories
gargled then regretted
You're the parade,
disfigured by June wafting off the asphalt,
luxury on four wheels,
costumed in roses
but we’re not palace,
not opera,
not cathedral
at your inscrutable
command like milled limestone and
personal mythologies
Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 8:51 PM UTC
Classic dress as black as the night,
Bergamot and vanilla perfume that smells like daylight
Sultry walk and red lipstick,
She's a little bit dramatique
Dec 15, 2021
Dec 15, 2021 at 5:36 AM UTC
A hint of mint on the wind
high pitched hum in the distance
a gust with a change
now new mown grass
My Earl Gray tea, hot
with the oil of bergamot
on my salad sweet and ****
balsamic vinaigrette
Smokey grilled chicken
with basil and thyme
Pinot Noir, my choice of wine
garlic wild rice on the side
In my garden Marigolds fill my nose
as I spray water from the hose
giving way to piney sweetness
as the rosemary is disturbed
Aromas of cedar and dirt
hit me on my evening walk
through the forested hill
in the fading lights chill
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 9:26 PM UTC