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Poetry Magnum Opus

Last of the Good Wine


fdelano

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Last of the Good Wine

 

 

At first, it was sweet with upfront

flavors still filled with sugar.

We soon found different tastes

of different grapes, later, even

the qualities of those grown on

hillsides or valleys, some tailored

for sales of volume.

 

We learned to match wine and food,

usually taking in too much of both.

Those with years of partaking told us

secrets about aromas that lingered

on the back of the tongue, embuing

a satisfaction of getting our money's

worth and bragging rights.

 

We found those special bottles

and shared with imbibing friends.

Soon, we would not consider

a good meal without a good wine.

There was pride in the rituals

of opening, decanting and serving.

 

Later, the less expensive bottles

caught our attention, giving as much

pleasure for half the price, adding

to our egos for astuteness

in knowing how to find such bargains.

We began to stock our cellars.

 

Eventually, the opinions of others

mattered not, and we drank according

to personal wants and needs, always

admiring the years and talents that

created lifelong arts as we smugly

sipped their masterpieces.

 

Tinker, tailor, soldier, thinker. (With consideration to John LeCarre.)

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I am amazed at the range of imagination and themes with poems posted here. This one included. Crafted and concise. I really enjoyed these two:

 

 

aromas that lingered

on the back of the tongue

 

we smugly

sipped their masterpieces.

 

And I do not even like wine.

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Not a great poem, pal, but it made me thirsty for wine. Not just any wine, either ...

 

Cut your adjectives. Americans (you, for example) are totally in love, bedazzled by adjectives. Cut them out entirely and see what's left.

No, it's true. A good poem has 3-4 adjectives per stanza, no more than that: the action moves on nouns and slithery verbs.

 

Sometimes I tell you things you don't want to hear ... and you get pissed off, and I don't blame you. If you did it to me, though, chances are I'd listen a little. Well, probably not. Definitely not, come to think of it.

 

Take care, compadre

Bren

Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim

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Larsen M. Callirhoe

well Franklin i, too, think about wine and its aromas the same way. excellent poem in my opinion.

 

victor mike lash

Larsen M. Callirhoe

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Not a great poem, pal, but it made me thirsty for wine. Not just any wine, either ...

 

Cut your adjectives. Americans (you, for example) are totally in love, bedazzled by adjectives. Cut them out entirely and see what's left.

No, it's true. A good poem has 3-4 adjectives per stanza, no more than that: the action moves on nouns and slithery verbs.

 

Sometimes I tell you things you don't want to hear ... and you get pissed off, and I don't blame you. If you did it to me, though, chances are I'd listen a little. Well, probably not. Definitely not, come to think of it.

 

Take care, compadre

Bren

Count your adverbs, Tater. :wacko:

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Thanks to all who still find something, good or bad, in the ravings or maudlin thoughts of this simple brain. Paco

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Sorry if I pissed you off. Tend to enjoy pissing you off, pal, sort of giggling in my cheap fuckin awful Spanish wine at ¥398 a bottle, about $4.29. Holy Christ, diarhoea! (I challenge you to spell that fuckin word). I am definitely coming to America next year. Don't know if they'll let me in, of course, but hey, ho, the barley O!

Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim

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I'll alert INS. Diarrhea? I haven't been really pissed off since I departed the USAF. They are accepting women now; perhaps there's a job for you. Still working on my study of the History of Ireland. Like most histories, I suspect much of it is lies or exaggerations.

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I liked your poem which is unpretentious, and like the wine... not all poetry needs to appeal only to a conoisseur to be enjoyed.

You must make allowances for the Irish though... but also give credit where due... they do generally know a lot about booze,horses, leprechauns, poteen and good company. Re: history, I reckon truth known, Joseph Goebbels stole from them that line... " The bigger the lie, the more it will be believed." But then... they'd probably say " nah! the Brits started it." :biggrin:

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  • 4 weeks later...

This is well written. The lyrical poem is only one variety of "poetic." I enjoyed the clarity, the no-nonsense application of language in this narrative. The last two verses, followed by the last line, are my favorites.

 

Tony

Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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