tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87772660086221653092024-03-07T01:59:10.391-05:00Adventures in Drinking"What a lovely drink this is, it makes one want to be a poet..." ~RakiSaadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.comBlogger83125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-84959367990733140362010-09-22T22:36:00.000-04:002010-09-22T22:38:58.955-04:00Whiskey princess<br />gypsy girl<br />sweet and vicious<br />his wild pearl<br /><br />gypsy girl<br />delicately fierce<br />his wild pearl<br />both chills and sears<br /><br />delicately fierce<br />this hushed siren<br />both chills and sears;<br />freezes and burns<br /><br />this hushed siren<br />uptown gilt<br />freezes and burns<br />broken, yet built<br /><br />uptown gilt<br />sweet and vicious<br />broken, yet built<br />whiskey princess .Saadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-47785089205791861452010-08-25T21:19:00.001-04:002010-08-25T21:20:51.176-04:00Ground Zero<em><em>ground zero, (noun)<br />1: the point directly above, below, or at which a nuclear explosion occurs<br />2: the center or origin of rapid, intense, or violent activity or change; broadly : CENTER 2a<br />3: the very beginning : SQUARE ONE</em></em><br /><br />a quick pour<br />of a spirit named after<br />the date when tequila<br />was first aged in<br />wood barrels: 1800<br /><br />my salted neck<br />lime’s flesh<br />between my teeth<br />body shots<br />with a<br />superhero<br /><br />his mouth<br />unplugged<br />my entire world<br />I was and am<br />the careless daughter<br />of a cautious man<br /><br />drinking blue agave<br />with a beer back<br />way south<br />of my borders<br />hoarding electricity<br />while others searched for powerSaadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-119149838924693512009-09-21T22:29:00.002-04:002009-09-21T22:32:50.632-04:00Girls Like Us<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; WIDTH: 480px"><embed height="360" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="480" src="http://w217.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=" wmode="transparent"></embed><a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px; FLOAT: left; BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px" src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" /></a><a href="http://s217.photobucket.com/albums/cc311/SaadiaSaadia/?action=view&current=499dbc17.pbw" target="_blank"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px; FLOAT: left; BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px" src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" /></a></div><br /><br /><br />Brilliant. Bright,<br />tough and beautiful--<br />like walking, talking<br />diamonds.<br />Ready for both:<br />rough and smooth.<br /><br />Red wine confessions<br />shots of honesty<br />TRUTH: fierce and delicate<br />shaken, not stirred<br />in a martini glass.<br />Growing younger with each<br />girlish giggle.<br /><br />Kitten-heeled warriors<br />balance<br />coffee and curiosity.<br />Artful science<br />traipses toward tomorrow<br />with pretty pink toenailsSaadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-84010298797329126422009-05-11T21:51:00.003-04:002009-05-12T23:50:59.962-04:00Late Night Scribble<a href="http://s217.photobucket.com/albums/cc311/SaadiaSaadia/?action=view&current=img015.jpg" target="_blank"><img style="WIDTH: 306px; HEIGHT: 478px" border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i217.photobucket.com/albums/cc311/SaadiaSaadia/img015.jpg" width="626" height="912" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://s217.photobucket.com/albums/cc311/SaadiaSaadia/?action=view&current=img016.jpg" target="_blank"><img style="WIDTH: 312px; HEIGHT: 654px" border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i217.photobucket.com/albums/cc311/SaadiaSaadia/img016.jpg" width="721" height="903" /></a>Saadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-64210709232925422432009-05-10T22:06:00.003-04:002009-05-10T22:20:00.568-04:00Inspired by Coppola Chardonnay<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiziC_wKz_f-fcnVn2aVDnDUIVOyGJyyB5PqDaYJovLsPaT_WEkzaumMs_KwM98F0S4YJU96aJG8WUR3DNfDS2IxCEU-KeDMCGzSPZkwp6Nb2PWXy_cfgJJQX4c_L32VMUqwMrwGsZAT8E/s1600-h/56610.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 55px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334382985534619090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiziC_wKz_f-fcnVn2aVDnDUIVOyGJyyB5PqDaYJovLsPaT_WEkzaumMs_KwM98F0S4YJU96aJG8WUR3DNfDS2IxCEU-KeDMCGzSPZkwp6Nb2PWXy_cfgJJQX4c_L32VMUqwMrwGsZAT8E/s200/56610.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />good wine in<br />a plastic bucket<br />soaking in<br />machine made ice<br />an obvious injustice<br /><br />blackberry cravings<br />wireless memories<br />two ugly lamps shine on<br />princesses in a<br />cheap hotel room<br /><br /><em>Though the above poem was written while drinking Coppola Chardonnay (which I adore), I must tell you all that my new favorite is Ghost Pines Chardonnay (photo below). It's the perfect balance of fruit and oak. I highly recommend it. </em><br /><p><em></em> </p><p><em> </p><br /></em><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeW1oMIreUsM8otWKl98mi_L7gT2L6mgn6FzPnaJTqJIQlD5nDuuHoVmms5wCsuGwB34qBKoZZE0Mkl9Jw9nTAc9MO9N712xCBLShpio5RPJ2fomWqp04F43L8D4SiQ-YL4vEMpk63Lmg/s1600-h/GPN-Chard-06-B.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 67px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334382994015220066" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeW1oMIreUsM8otWKl98mi_L7gT2L6mgn6FzPnaJTqJIQlD5nDuuHoVmms5wCsuGwB34qBKoZZE0Mkl9Jw9nTAc9MO9N712xCBLShpio5RPJ2fomWqp04F43L8D4SiQ-YL4vEMpk63Lmg/s200/GPN-Chard-06-B.jpg" /></a>Saadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-31686312699077168452008-10-05T22:33:00.004-04:002008-10-05T22:47:39.017-04:00Bogle Phantom<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhKKWL7LZtAu3AmA0aBYLN2aK6OLi6jm8BJK5QAjokyOoxyQnRFF6380vwPvdGy7lG_RZNstsslUQw54MObqH80qxVQrMrCraMtFnsk4XT2d22qx9H14Ow1AMrYCeqLnq1jIVrwjTymys/s1600-h/phantom_high_res.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253863581650161026" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhKKWL7LZtAu3AmA0aBYLN2aK6OLi6jm8BJK5QAjokyOoxyQnRFF6380vwPvdGy7lG_RZNstsslUQw54MObqH80qxVQrMrCraMtFnsk4XT2d22qx9H14Ow1AMrYCeqLnq1jIVrwjTymys/s200/phantom_high_res.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The name Bogle comes from the Scots word for phantom and this, their namesake wine, disappears like one too. A blend of 54% petite sirah, 43% zinfandel and 3% mourvédre, The Phantom is a haunting, fruit forward wine that begins with traces of blueberries, violets, chocolate-covered cherries and black pepper on the nose. Subtle notes of spice, clove and mocha complement the wine's fruit characteristics on the palate, finishing with toasting oak aromas from two years in a combination of one, two and three year old American oak. Enjoy now or let it rattle around in the cellar for a few years, but act fast, before the vintage vanishes.<br /><br />Julie, Ann and I shared a bottle of this wonderful wine at <a href="http://www.brixwineandcheese.com/">Brix</a> on Saturday night. Needless to say, my dreams were wild and in technicolor later that night.Saadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-65726338117252784572008-08-27T00:23:00.001-04:002008-08-27T00:23:48.228-04:00DilemmaI should resist<br />another glass of wine<br />cease and desist<br />though I feel so fine<br /><br />One more glass<br />wouldn't be so terrible<br />this time would pass<br />and be more bearable<br /><br />Why should I abstain<br />from this Chardonnay cocoon<br />wine entertains<br />even though it's only noon...Saadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-86616533852360595942008-08-25T21:42:00.000-04:002008-08-25T21:43:13.319-04:00Lush LustLush Lust<br /><br />the lust of this lush<br />unparalleled<br />that first drink rush<br /><br />to be held<br />with a drinkers grip<br />inhibitions expelled<br /><br />cocktails give no lip<br />puppy love, a crush<br />eternal courtship<br /><br />my wants make me blush<br />many faceted<br />the lust of this lushSaadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-20445085293984656792008-08-24T21:46:00.000-04:002008-08-24T21:47:45.933-04:00Mischief--Inspired by Tequilathese moonbeams<br />make that vacant<br />swimming pool<br />look so inviting<br /><br />my dress is so<br />e a s y<br />to take off and I am<br />so warm, really<br /><br />a skinny little dip<br />would be so fat<br />and juicy<br /><br />once in,<br />the water is my new dress<br />it fits so well<br /><br />he swims toward me and<br />we giggle like<br />naughty<br />mischievous<br />children<br /><br />my discarded<br />red dress<br />watches us rejected and<br />drySaadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-53014270101946277202008-08-19T09:12:00.001-04:002008-08-19T09:14:10.801-04:003 Lanturnes<div align="center">damn<br />I don't<br />have any<br />good chardonnay<br />left<br /><br />all<br />that's left<br />is some old<br />wine I bought on<br />sale<br /><br />cool<br />cheap and<br />last ditch but<br />it is all I<br />have<br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div align="left">I've never heard of this poetic form before. It's called "lanturne" or "lantern" because it kind of looks like a Japanese lantern. It is a five line poem with a syllabic pattern of one, two, three, four, one. Has anyone else ever heard of a lanturne? I couldn't find anything about this particular form's origin.<br /></div>Saadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-57884354297577023082008-08-18T05:56:00.002-04:002008-08-18T06:04:53.219-04:00Books, Poetry and WineA few days ago, my book club met to discuss <strong><em>Lush Life</em></strong> by Richard Price. I loved the book and we had a great discussion for about 20 minutes and then somehow we started drinking wine and, well, you know how those things go.<br /><br /><a href="http://s217.photobucket.com/albums/cc311/SaadiaSaadia/?action=view&current=hiddenbc.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i217.photobucket.com/albums/cc311/SaadiaSaadia/hiddenbc.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />I demanded a retake, obviously. Doesn't Kevin know that I like to be front and center?<br /><br /><a href="http://s217.photobucket.com/albums/cc311/SaadiaSaadia/?action=view&current=bookclubbrix.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i217.photobucket.com/albums/cc311/SaadiaSaadia/bookclubbrix.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />That's better, don't you think? Anyway, now for today's poem, "D:"<br /><br />dissolved decorum<br />d e l i c i o u s<br />I daresay<br />a diminutive dab<br />will do you<br />dysfunction dwindles<br />with each drink<br />distress disappears<br />dull is dismissed<br />Darling, let's discover<br />this delightful<br />destination--<br />definite and distilledSaadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-37305814114852792912008-08-14T23:41:00.000-04:002008-08-14T23:42:31.070-04:00Poem Scribbled on a Cocktail Napkinafter one too many<br />beefeater rocks<br />I can think only<br />of drunk skunks<br />on a Saturday night<br /><br />while ordering Jack<br />with a beer back<br />I wonder how<br />a skunk<br />could be drunk<br /><br />Right now, I'm<br />curious and I ask<br />myself if skunks<br />only drink<br />on the weekends<br /><br />and what <br />exactly<br />does a skunk<br />drink on a<br />Saturday night?<br /><br />these questions<br />melt into<br />nirvana<br />like ice<br />in my glassSaadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-17346124127738049602008-08-14T10:02:00.001-04:002008-08-14T10:02:48.383-04:00Saadia Reads 'Shopping'<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Y2OnAmWq5AI&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Y2OnAmWq5AI&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Saadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-59958259211773296242008-08-13T01:59:00.001-04:002008-08-13T02:01:16.720-04:00Basil Hayden Bourbonbourbon undiluted<br />disorder recruited<br />gravity refuted<br />virtue polluted<br /><br />tedium persecuted<br />ennui executed<br />necessity substituted<br />indulgence saluted<br /><br />these times voluted<br />obligation muted<br />each drink computed<br />my essence diluted<br /><br />*Darling Basilwire and Snz couldn't make it to my book event at The Book Cellar in Chicago, so they sent a bottle of Basil Hayden bourbon instead. Though I would have loved to have met them, the bourbon is almost too good to be true. <br /><br />I've used sonic repetition in this poem. Sonic repetition is basically sounds repeated in a poem or another piece of writing. Many poets feel that sonic repetition is best left for performative poetry.Saadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-10843418262071968072008-08-12T00:10:00.000-04:002008-08-12T00:11:04.771-04:00Johnnie Walker Blue Labeltop shelf recall<br />mind opening <br />memories<br />a door left ajar<br />only to reveal <br />a collection<br />of curiosities<br /><br />pouring <br />two fingers of<br />atonement<br />should be <br />as easy as<br />savoring the taste<br />of this brilliant whiskySaadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-87371585801467565182008-08-11T00:22:00.003-04:002008-08-11T00:39:04.343-04:00Tequila!<p><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dySGMJPCEZmfX4LOP0l6LtUqnriJ09V1iI9bWbyyu8hqxfVM7Jy9OyBOOK0xcQAhWaz1hZEqsosJlU2y05KoQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p>After the shots, I wrote this poem:</p><p><strong><em>Selfish</em></strong></p><p>he offers <p>princess cut diamonds <p></p><p>with first class fixes</p><p>chinchilla guarantees <p>my weight in gold</p><p>protected in an offshore account</p><p>all for one real smile</p><p>and I still think</p><p>that he asks</p><p>too much</p><p>of me</p>Saadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-54019365759903218562008-08-01T17:04:00.000-04:002008-08-01T17:05:23.249-04:00Krug Observationsthrough<br />the drinking glass<br />tuxedoed men<br />look like a line<br />of dominoes<br />waiting for a push<br /><br />old ladies<br />with little girl voices<br />cookie cutter princesses<br />well preserved<br />dressed for battle<br />armed with artifice<br /><br />unstable<br />this boozy, blurry realm<br />where little<br />white lies<br />seem to be<br />the new blackSaadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-68232760679735019752008-07-27T23:19:00.001-04:002008-07-27T23:19:54.544-04:00Saadia Reads 'Jack Daniels'<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1m18Elk2gwY&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1m18Elk2gwY&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Saadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-17504658602513683952008-07-13T23:45:00.000-04:002008-07-13T23:53:24.334-04:00Adrianmy private serenade:<br />weeknight wonderful<br />while playing hooky from<br />accountability. Drinking<br />in dreadlocked dulcets--<br />full bodied and fine<br /><br />sweet like sugar, he<br />whisper sings to me<br />while I ask for more<br />Cabernet. Brilliant<br />temptation with just<br />six strings and<br />five fingers<br /><br />Does anyone remember my <a href="http://weblog.xanga.com/SaadiaOnline/614537531/bartholomew.html" target="_new">previous post</a> about <a href="http://www.myspace.com/bartholomewband" target="_new">Adrian Bartholomew</a>? The boy is trouble, but Irresistible (with a capital 'I'). I ran into him a few nights ago when I was with my book club...<br /><br /><a href="http://s217.photobucket.com/albums/cc311/SaadiaSaadia/?action=view&current=DSCN1607-1.jpg" target="_blank"><img style="WIDTH: 405px; HEIGHT: 409px" height="663" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i217.photobucket.com/albums/cc311/SaadiaSaadia/DSCN1607-1.jpg" width="956" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://s217.photobucket.com/albums/cc311/SaadiaSaadia/?action=view&current=DSCN1602-1-1.jpg" target="_blank"><img style="WIDTH: 410px; HEIGHT: 386px" height="565" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i217.photobucket.com/albums/cc311/SaadiaSaadia/DSCN1602-1-1.jpg" width="465" border="0" /></a>Saadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-89035135872400594062008-03-24T21:54:00.001-04:002008-03-24T21:54:57.370-04:00Lifestyles of the Bored and Jadedhoping for matching socks<br />and meals that magically appear<br />an obvious paradox<br />both far and very near<br /><br />mother's little helpers<br />play well with pinot grigio<br />one day whispers<br />yesterday is long ago<br /><br />a sink full of dishes<br />hard to swallow screams<br />it's always Prozac wishes<br />and sweet Ambien dreamsSaadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-47457383102511790302008-03-11T01:13:00.000-04:002008-03-11T01:15:35.633-04:00A Recipe that Reads like a Poem<span style="font-size:78%;"><em>written after drinking micheladas with my brother</em><br /></span><br />if you squeeze<br />one unbruised lime into<br />a heavy glass mug<br />then add<br />a pinch of good salt<br />a handful of ice cubes<br />made with spring water<br />three dashes of the hottest sauce<br />you can stand<br />two long shakes<br />of smuggled worcestershire<br />and one ice cold Corona<br />you'll have<br />a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michelada">michelada</a>--<br />twelve ounces and<br />four satisfying syllables<br />of paradiseSaadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-90227987894857372542008-03-02T20:34:00.000-05:002008-03-02T20:36:45.065-05:00Saadia Reads 'Before'This poem is in my book: <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Lavish-Lines-Luscious-Saadia-Aschemann/dp/0977412628/ref=sr_1_1/103-0286894-5363075?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1180990042&sr=8-1">lavish lines/luscious lies</a></em>. I think it begs to be read aloud!<br /><object width="425" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ncZfXWvx4q8"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ncZfXWvx4q8" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object>Saadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-66907631959580144702008-02-18T11:01:00.000-05:002008-02-18T11:02:56.209-05:00PandoraShould I<br />open this box?<br />A polite trespasser<br />Dom knocks<br /><br />Fern green box<br />a constant taunt<br />unsealed, available<br />what I want<br /><br />Escape, I think,<br />if I relent<br />restraint devours<br />this wicked torment<br /><br />opening this box<br />my quick fix<br />on my travels<br />along the River StyxSaadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-87837557120843366512008-02-07T16:55:00.000-05:002008-02-07T17:05:26.624-05:00AbecedarianSo, I made a bet. A stupid, f***ing bet. On Saturday night, I bet a friend of my husband's that I could go two weeks (two weeks!!!) without having an alcoholic beverage. It didn't seem like any big deal at the time I was making the bet--I have two children, after all--and I never drank when I was pregnant. I did make the bet after enjoying a few glasses of wine so my judgement might have been slightly impaired. The bottom line is this: I can not drink until 7PM on February 16th. Pray for me, Readers.<br /><br /><strong>A</strong>ll I can think about is<br /><strong>B</strong>ooze. Pretty bottles, entertaining spirits, the<br /><strong>C</strong>link--ice dropped into a heavy, crystal glass.<br /><strong>D</strong>isappointed? Don't I know it.<br /><strong>E</strong>veryone seems to think that I<br /><strong>F</strong>lirt too much with Chardonnay,<br /><strong>G</strong>rey Goose and Guinness.<br /><strong>H</strong>eavenly, the variety<br /><strong>I</strong>'m normally able to choose from<br /><strong>J</strong>umping up and down--a<br /><strong>K</strong>id in a candy store or<br /><strong>L</strong>ike a woman at Neiman Marcus. This<br /><strong>M</strong>yriad of mixes tempts<br /><strong>N</strong>ot only me, but myself and I.<br /><strong>O</strong>ften, my<br /><strong>P</strong>alate and my determination will<br /><strong>Q</strong>uarrel. <em>Quit it</em>, my<br /><strong>R</strong>esolve<br /><strong>S</strong>ays<br /><strong>T</strong>o my palate<br /><em><strong>U</strong>nderstand this</em>, my discipline keeps talking,<br /><strong>V</strong>ino isn't a necessity<br /><strong>W</strong>hy won't willpower shut up, I wonder? I wish I lived in<br /><strong>X</strong>anadu, where both<br /><strong>Y</strong>ou and I know that<br /><strong>Z</strong>ealotry is outlawed.<br /><br />This is an example of an <a href="http://poetry.about.com/od/poeticforms/g/abecedarian.htm" target="_new">abecedarian poem</a>. I would explain, but I think you probably get the gist. Plus, I'm too sober.Saadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com58tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777266008622165309.post-38803299649250447912008-02-04T21:51:00.000-05:002008-02-04T21:52:57.858-05:00Absintheabsinthe<br />sweet green fairy<br />anise flavored liquor<br />psychoactive and powerful<br />burns through my granite facade easily<br />melting a fireproof box full of<br />good intentions, virtue<br />restraint on fire<br />absinthe<br /><br />I have two different things to tell you, Sweet Readers. First of all, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Absinthe">absinthe</a> was very popular with 19th century intellectuals, poets and artists like Oscar Wilde and Vincent Van Gogh. Besides having a very high alcohol content (120 to 160 proof), Absinthe is said to induce a dreamlike state, enhance creativity and facilitate artistic expression. (Of course, I wouldn't know anything about that). Absinthe was banned in the United States in 1915 because of the high doses of thujone (the chemical found in wormwood). In March of 2007, the FDA approved a specially manufactured version of absinthe that doesn't have the high levels of thujone. Now, American absinthe drinkers can buy and enjoy the liquor legally.<br /><br />Okay, now about the poetic form. The above poem is an example of a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rictameter">rictameter</a>, which is a nine line poem with a very specific syllabic count. The syllables count 2,4,6,8,10,8,6,4,2 with the first and ninth line being identical. There is no rhyme scheme whatsoever.Saadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04240365376170214782noreply@blogger.com1