"pernod" poems - Hello Poetry

Seafood stew A basil, saffron brew Sea Robin, Congre, Scorpion Fish Pernod provides a hint of flavor licorice Vegetables and shellfish help complete the dish For authentic travel to Marseille Ambrosia's put in play Bouillabaisse

0

Aug 14, 2014

Aug 14, 2014 at 11:16 AM UTC

brian-oarr

Bouillabaisse --- (Trois par Huit)

Seafood stew A basil, saffron brew Sea Robin, Congre, Scorpion Fish Pernod provides a hint of flavor licorice Vegetables and shellfish help complete the dish For authentic travel to Marseille Ambrosia's put in play Bouillabaisse

8

I felt the cosmos of absinthe in your macerated body, Lilith I drank your blood and your body The gloom is our God at the Parisian night Moan like a real woman, Lilith, moan

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Jul 21, 2013

Jul 21, 2013 at 9:59 PM UTC

turco-dimas

Pernod Fils

I felt the cosmos of absinthe in your macerated body, Lilith I drank your blood and your body The gloom is our God at the Parisian night Moan like a real woman, Lilith, moan

4

Catherine stood over the bar counter and pored herself a glass of absinthe. She placed the special spoon over the top of the glass and put a sugar cube over it and proceeded to pore slowly the water over the the sugar and into the glass of real Pernod. She watched as the drink turned its green tinted color and she could feel her insides hunger for the wormwood drink. She loved the preparation of such a cocktail and if she were truthful it is one of the reasons that it was her go to drink. Another equally important reason it was her drink was because it awakened the creativity in her and inspired her work. Catherine was working on her fifth novel and had come to an impasse and could not write her way around nor through her dilemma and she sought hell from the Green Fairy for a little inspiration. She took the drink to her lips and savored the anise flavored liquor as it rolled across her tongue. She closed her eyes and held on to the affects of it, seeing the edges of her vision go an opaquely luminescent green. She walked over to her desk and dipped her quill into the jar of squid ink and began to write on the parchment, letting the absinthe take her writing on the journey it needed to finish the story.

0

Jun 14, 2014

Jun 14, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC

TonguesOfOthers

Catherine

Catherine stood over the bar counter and pored herself a glass of absinthe. She placed the special spoon over the top of the glass and put a sugar cube over it and proceeded to pore slowly the water over the the sugar and into the glass of real Pernod. She watched as the drink turned its green tinted color and she could feel her insides hunger for the wormwood drink. She loved the preparation of such a cocktail and if she were truthful it is one of the reasons that it was her go to drink. Another equally important reason it was her drink was because it awakened the creativity in her and inspired her work. Catherine was working on her fifth novel and had come to an impasse and could not write her way around nor through her dilemma and she sought hell from the Green Fairy for a little inspiration. She took the drink to her lips and savored the anise flavored liquor as it rolled across her tongue. She closed her eyes and held on to the affects of it, seeing the edges of her vision go an opaquely luminescent green. She walked over to her desk and dipped her quill into the jar of squid ink and began to write on the parchment, letting the absinthe take her writing on the journey it needed to finish the story.

3

You didn't want to know when I was young, slow? I could have grown grass quicker, but now you're older and much slicker, hair tied in a bow, oh, time you were so slow.

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Apr 11, 2015

Apr 11, 2015 at 5:02 AM UTC

john-edward-smallshaw

Drinking coffee, tasting Pernod

You didn't want to know when I was young, slow? I could have grown grass quicker, but now you're older and much slicker, hair tied in a bow, oh, time you were so slow.

8

countless darnings of minds' explanations on that spermy night of drab renown pernod of licorice spilling over her thighs of chance our unsettled merriment never knowing where to land our silly ripostes demanding a touch a look not the whirr of sparrows across our barren heaven or the finality of a sibling's dry kiss

0

Dec 15, 2016

Dec 15, 2016 at 2:23 PM UTC

ronald-jones

Family Secrets (brother and sister)

countless darnings of minds' explanations on that spermy night of drab renown pernod of licorice spilling over her thighs of chance our unsettled merriment never knowing where to land our silly ripostes demanding a touch a look not the whirr of sparrows across our barren heaven or the finality of a sibling's dry kiss

12

Your poetry is like Liquorice Or Pernod Or Absinthe Believe me, I want it to be sweet Get me drunk Hallucinate But that ****** bitter taste Keeps coming up All I can feel is nauseous So, I put you back on the shelf Waiting for the next Charity shop run.

0

Jun 24, 2019

Jun 24, 2019 at 11:49 AM UTC

nigdaw

Critique

Your poetry is like Liquorice Or Pernod Or Absinthe Believe me, I want it to be sweet Get me drunk Hallucinate But that ****** bitter taste Keeps coming up All I can feel is nauseous So, I put you back on the shelf Waiting for the next Charity shop run.

15