Home ⇒ 📌Ivan Donn Carswell ⇒ The perfect cup
The perfect cup
We were born of tea, our mum could drink fourteen
Cups a day, an awesome feat to try to rationalise,
Beyond belief unless you knew where we had one
She would have two. The perfect cup, she said,
Was never one; I understood in sum that meant
A pot of tea for two, a cuppa shared with time to talk,
Perhaps a scone with cream and jam. It seemed
The nicest way to greet a friend of old, a friend to be,
A greeting with a pot of tea. We learned to make the
Perfect cup when we earned our mother’s trust,
Could bank the stove, raise the heat ’til kettle boiled,
Warm the teapot, measure tea (with extra for the Queen
Or pot – it mattered not), fill the pot with ease
And free of incident or scald, dress it in a stained
And holey, tattered old bequeathed tea cosy, wait
For it to draw, cups and saucers placed with tiny,
Anxious hands afraid to break a member of the
Set, milked and sugared ready for the pour.
If there was more to life than this we had to meet
It yet. And Mother in her driven quest, when all
Had sipped would ask for more – even in a land of
Plenty, ensuring the blessed pot was empty.
(2 votes, average: 2.50 out of 5)Related poetry:
- One Perfect Rose A single flow’r he sent me, since we met. All tenderly his messenger he chose; Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet – One perfect rose. I knew the language of the floweret; ‘My fragile leaves,’ it said, ‘his heart enclose.’ Love long has taken for his amulet One perfect rose. Why is it no […]...
- The Perfect Marriage I I hate this yoke; for the world’s sake here put it on: Knowing ’twill weigh as much on you till life is gone. Knowing you love your freedom dear, as I love mine- Knowing that love unchained has been our life’s great wine: Our one great wine (yet spent too soon, and serving none; […]...
- Let me not mar that perfect Dream Let me not mar that perfect Dream By an Auroral stain But so adjust my daily Night That it will come again. Not when we know, the Power accosts The Garment of Surprise Was all our timid Mother wore At Home in Paradise....
- He Tells Of The Perfect Beauty O cloud-pale eyelids, dream-dimmed eyes, The poets labouring all their days To build a perfect beauty in rhyme Are overthrown by a woman’s gaze And by the unlabouring brood of the skies: And therefore my heart will bow, when dew Is dropping sleep, until God burn time, Before the unlabouring stars and you....
- Job Interview Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch’s wife He would have written sonnets all his life? DON JUAN, III, 63-4 “Where do you see yourself five years from now?” The eldest male member (or is “male member” A redundancy?) of the committee Asked me. “Not here,” I thought. A good thing I Speak fluent Fog. […]...
- March 1 I could stare for hours At her, the woman stepping Out of her bath, breasts Bare, towel around her waist, Before I knew she was you In that one-bedroom in The Village sunny and cold That Friday we woke up Slowly & our breakfast table Arranged itself into A still life with irises In a […]...
- Since Thou Hast Given Me This Good Hope, O God SINCE thou hast given me this good hope, O God, That while my footsteps tread the flowery sod And the great woods embower me, and white dawn And purple even sweetly lead me on From day to day, and night to night, O God, My life shall no wise miss the light of love; But […]...
- Song of Perfect Propriety Oh, I should like to ride the seas, A roaring buccaneer; A cutlass banging at my knees, A dirk behind my ear. And when my captives’ chains would clank I’d howl with glee and drink, And then fling out the quivering plank And watch the beggars sink. I’d like to straddle gory decks, And dig […]...
- Elegy for an Enemy (For G. H.) Say, does that stupid earth Where they have laid her, Bind still her sullen mirth, Mirth which betrayed her? Do the lush grasses hold, Greenly and glad, That brittle-perfect gold She alone had? Smugly the common crew, Over their knitting, Mourn her as butchers do Sheep-throats they’re slitting! She was my enemy, […]...
- Clean Hands IT is something to face the sun and know you are free. To hold your head in the shafts of daylight slanting the earth And know your heart has kept a promise and the blood runs clean: It is something. To go one day of your life among all men with clean hands, Clean for […]...
- It's Good To Have a Friend Like You! It’s good to have a friend like you, Whose friendship is sincere and true! Someone to lend a helping hand, To care for me and understand. When I am feeling sad and blue, It’s good to have a friend like you, To help me sort my troubles out, And clear my mind of fear and […]...
- Because Oh, because you never tried To bow my will or break my pride, And nothing of the cave-man made You want to keep me half afraid, Nor ever with a conquering air You thought to draw me unaware Take me, for I love you more Than I ever loved before. And since the body’s maidenhood […]...
- Adoption Because I was a woman lone And had of friends so few, I made two little ones my own, Whose parents no one knew; Unwanted foundlings of the night, Left at the convent door, Whose tiny hands in piteous plight Seemed to implore. By Deed to them I gave my name, And never will they […]...
- MY PERFECT ROSE At ten she came to me, three years ago, There was ‘something between us’ even then; Watching her write like Eliot every day, Turn prose into haiku in ten minutes flat, Write a poem in Greek three weeks from learning the alphabet; Then translate it as ‘Sun on a tomb, gold place, small sacred horse’. […]...
- In soothing, sweetened words No, she said, I never knew it was your first. It doesn’t Matter anyway. I always had an inkling that we’d find A way. And then we did. I’m glad about it just for that. Whether it was good or bad, or would have happened Had we made a pact or that it should have […]...
- Love is enough LOVE is enough: though the World be a-waning, And the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining, Though the sky be too dark for dim eyes to discover The gold-cups and daisies fair blooming thereunder, Though the hills be held shadows, and the sea a dark wonder, And this day draw a veil […]...
- Song I: Though the World Be A-Waning Love is enough: though the World be a-waning And the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining, Though the sky be too dark for dim eyes to discover The gold-cups and daisies fair blooming thereunder, Though the hills be held shadows, and the sea a dark wonder, And this day draw a veil […]...
- Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Not Death for who is He? The Porter of my Father’s Lodge As much abasheth me! Of Life? ‘Twere odd I fear [a] thing That comprehendeth me In one or two existences As Deity decree Of Resurrection? Is the East Afraid to trust the Morn With her fastidious forehead? […]...
- The Author Of The Jesus Papers Speaks In my dream I milked a cow, The terrible udder Like a great rubber lily Sweated in my fingers And as I yanked, Waiting for the moon juice, Waiting for the white mother, Blood spurted from it And covered me with shame. Then God spoke to me and said: People say only good things about […]...
- Middle Aged Lovers, II You open to me A little, Then grow afraid And close again, A small boy Fearing to be hurt, A toe stubbed In the dark, A finger cut On paper. I think I am free Of fears, Enraptured, abandoned To the call Of the Bacchae, My own siren, Tied to my own Mast, Both Circe […]...
- Tiny Warrior You never saw the spring my love Or the red tailed hawk circling high above On feathered wings my love You only knew the snow You never saw the prairie grasses bend and blow And undulate like the shimmering indigo sea You never saw me Your eyes were closed so tight They say you put […]...
- Do not be ashamed You will be walking some night In the comfortable dark of your yard And suddenly a great light will shine Round about you, and behind you Will be a wall you never saw before. It will be clear to you suddenly That you were about to escape, And that you are guilty: you misread The […]...
- The Free-Selector's Daughter I met her on the Lachlan Side A darling girl I thought her, And ere I left I swore I’d win The free-selector’s daughter. I milked her father’s cows a month, I brought the wood and water, I mended all the broken fence, Before I won the daughter. I listened to her father’s yarns, I […]...
- My Legacy My friend has gone away from me From shadow into perfect light, But leaving a sweet legacy. My heart shall hold it long in fee A grand ideal, calm and bright, A song of hope for ministry, A faith of unstained purity, A thought of beauty for delight These did my friend bequeath to me; […]...
- The Day's Ration When I was born, From all the seas of strength Fate filled a chalice, Saying, This be thy portion, child; this chalice, Less than a lily’s, thou shalt daily draw From my great arteries; nor less, nor more. All substances the cunning chemist Time Melts down into that liquor of my life, Friends, foes, joys, […]...
- The Growth of Lorraine I While I stood listening, discreetly dumb, Lorraine was having the last word with me: ВЂњI know, ” she said, “I know it, but you see Some creatures are born fortunate, and some Are born to be found out and overcome, — Born to be slaves, to let the rest go free; And if I’m […]...
- 245. Versicles on Sign-Posts CURS’D be the man, the poorest wretch in life, The crouching vassal to a tyrant wife! Who has no will but by her high permission, Who has not sixpence but in her possession; Who must to he, his dear friend’s secrets tell, Who dreads a curtain lecture worse than hell. Were such the wife had […]...
- At the Zoo There are lions and roaring tigers, And enormous camels and things, There are biffalo-buffalo-bisons, And a great big bear with wings. There’s a sort of a tiny potamus, And a tiny nosserus too – But I gave buns to the elephant When I went down to the Zoo! There are badgers and bidgers and bodgers, […]...
- To Sunnydale There lies the trail to Sunnydale, Amid the lure of laughter. Oh, how can we unhappy be Beneath its leafy rafter! Each perfect hour is like a flower, Each day is like a posy. How can you say the skies are grey? You’re wrong, my friend, they’re rosy. With right good will let’s climb the […]...
- Dream Song 130: When I saw my friend covered with blood, I thought When I saw my friend covered with blood, I thought This is the end of the dream, now I’ll wake up. That was more years ago Than I care to reckon, and my friend is not Dying but adhering to an élite group In California O. Why did I never wake, when covered with blood […]...
- Next, Please Always too eager for the future, we Pick up bad habits of expectancy. Something is always approaching; every day Till then we say, Watching from a bluff the tiny, clear Sparkling armada of promises draw near. How slow they are! And how much time they waste, Refusing to make haste! Yet still they leave us […]...
- Cappuccino smile Ah, the aromas of that conversation, The brimming, cappuccino smile Swirled in chocolate rich and cinnamoned, The gentle coffee curlicues interlaced In arabesques of creamy foam, redolent Upon your lips, lilted in the cup of your Countenance, glazed in syrup gilt. Your words were velvet plumes Of soothing, honeyed dews You tea-spooned in my mind, […]...
- The Swan This laboring through what is still undone, As though, legs bound, we hobbled along the way, Is like the akward walking of the swan. And dying-to let go, no longer feel The solid ground we stand on every day- Is like anxious letting himself fall Into waters, which receive him gently And which, as though […]...
- Cigarettes And Whiskey And Wild, Wild Women (from a song) Perhaps I was born kneeling, Born coughing on the long winter, Born expecting the kiss of mercy, Born with a passion for quickness And yet, as things progressed, I learned early about the stockade Or taken out, the fume of the enema. By two or three I learned not to kneel, Not […]...
- Baby Tortoise You know what it is to be born alone, Baby tortoise! The first day to heave your feet little by little from the shell, Not yet awake, And remain lapsed on earth, Not quite alive. A tiny, fragile, half-animate bean. To open your tiny beak-mouth, that looks as if it would never open, Like some […]...
- Tie the Strings to my Life, My Lord Tie the Strings to my Life, My Lord, Then, I am ready to go! Just a look at the Horses Rapid! That will do! Put me in on the firmest side So I shall never fall For we must ride to the Judgment And it’s partly, down Hill But never I mind the steeper And […]...
- Dying Speech of an Old Philosopher I strove with none, for none was worth my strife: Nature I loved, and, next to Nature, Art: I warm’d both hands before the fire of Life; It sinks; and I am ready to depart....
- The Independent Man Now who could take you off to tiny life In one room or in two rooms or in three And cork you smartly, like the flask of wine You are? Not any woman. Not a wife. You’d let her twirl you, give her a good glee Showing your leaping ruby to a friend. Though twirling […]...
- Roses And Rue (To L. L.) Could we dig up this long-buried treasure, Were it worth the pleasure, We never could learn love’s song, We are parted too long. Could the passionate past that is fled Call back its dead, Could we live it all over again, Were it worth the pain! I remember we used to meet […]...
- Fountain of your rise Michelle, the thought of you confused or under siege Bereaves us; you, the cheerful heart who waged a Silent war for lost, egregious souls whose thanks Deserted you should never be constrained, should never Need to grieve in anxious pain or ever cede to grieve alone. Michelle, you gave without restraint, the light was Grown […]...
Virtue »