Raph’s Website » The Sunday Poem: Pistachio

July 22nd, 2007 (Visited 2910 times) Tags:

Ok, a challenge. Next Sunday do a poem on Ice Creme Cones, and do it without any insinuations of death, love, or nature.

No insinuations? Fat chance.

Pistachio

Pistachio piled high, a green the shade of leaves in shade;
Scintilla sparkles, specular sliding off the cone.

A spritz of soda, carbon captured, bubbles bursting;
Antiseptic odor effervescing from the glass.

Waterstains on spoons, overlapping nebulae. Straws. Scoops.
Color buckets, congealed craters, rough gorges. Crème.

Here there is no death except in melting. There is no love,
But for the sharing of banana splits, there is no nature

Save for green the shade of leaves in shade, the nuts,
The flavor on the tongue, purchased by my grandpa.

We chrome, we swirl, we pile double-high, we watch
As scoops sizzle on the hot cement, fallen from their perch.

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[...] Pistachio A spritz of soda, carbon captured, bubbles bursting; Antiseptic odor effervescing from the glass. [...]

Morgan Ramsay said on July 22nd, 2007 at 1:53 pm:

I’ve got a real challenge for you. Write a poem on Areae without divulging any secrets, directly at least. ;p

Amaranthar said on July 22nd, 2007 at 3:26 pm:

Good one Morgan.

Raph, the morphing, yes, well done.

Morgan Ramsay said on July 24th, 2007 at 1:22 pm:

I’ve got an even harder challenge than what I suggested previously.

Construct a poem, or perhaps a haiku, using only pangrams.

That’s not the challenge though. The challenge is do that and make sense.

I bet you US$1.00 that you cannot do this. It’s impossible for even a Master Poet. ;p

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