hubble, bubble….

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Poetics night tonight and we are offered a theme of muse mixology.

De here (aka WhimsyGizmo), and today I’d like us to mix our muses up a bit by throwing some pub and drinking terms in the blender: Ah, but here’s the kicker: try to use these words in ways that have nothing to do with the bar scene, alcohol, or drinking. Use as many as you like; pour your poem as tall, short or neat as you like, and come back for another round.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

cauldron’s hot and witching time is afoot

fire blazes and rocks await

straight up!

I kid you not

here be a tonic for all your ills

an elixir

a golden drop of liquid

courage my friend

we’ll be mixing medicine

afore long

bring one hair of the dog

a sprig of heather for binding

and from a choice of licorice ribbons

tie one on with a twist

pop into the pot

add shots of whisky and rum

tail of newt and wing of bat

and spiders web from dawn

make sure the potion is shaken

vigorously first

and then stirred with care

lemons to sour

worts to sweeten

can you name your poison yet?

dance round the fire thrice

and then stand on the rocks

naked and howling

like three sheets to the wind

take a hammered copper tumbler

made by a smith aged in the wood

and pour in the libation

cool through the night

and in the mornings first creaking

wet your whistle with a draught

and be sure to know

goodness will come to you

and drown all your sorrows

for eternity

~~~~~~~~~~

42 responses to “hubble, bubble….

  1. I twice appeared in the play MACBETH–for a moment while reading this recipe, I felt like Macduff again. I like your line /and spiders web from dawn/.

  2. Yay! There is nowhere near enough magic in poetry, so I’m thrilled you “went there.”

    Love the opening and this section, especially:

    “a sprig of heather for binding
    and from a choice of licorice ribbons”

  3. Shades of MacBeth. I was looking for the three witches. Or maybe like Irish folklore. I can’t tell which witches it reminds me more of, but it is an excellent use of the prompt.

  4. IntoXicating LiFe
    rAw.. uNcooked
    frEE floWing
    hAir
    fuLL
    wolF
    FeeLs
    SensEs no
    domesTication priSons
    drunKeN love heiR NoW spRinG
    sNoW mOOn ECliPse hoWliNG
    pass Friday morning.. dip-free mOOnliGht..:)

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