Tuesday, 18 March 2025

"Notes and Rhymes left at Ralphs"

"Notes and Rhymes left at Ralphs"

This post is a collection of poems inspired by moments shared at Ralph’s Wines and Liquors, a place where conversations flow as freely as the drinks. The verses capture fleeting thoughts, heartfelt confessions, and poetic musings scribbled down between sips of wine and clinking glasses. Each poem reflects the ambiance of the space—its dim-lit intimacy, the camaraderie of strangers, and the unfiltered emotions that surface in the warmth of a well-poured drink. Whether contemplative, melancholic, or celebratory, these poems are remnants of nights spent in deep thought and lighthearted revelry, immortalizing the spirit of Ralph’s in ink.

Take Me to Ralph’s

In this time of trouble, take me to Ralph’s,
Where bottles gleam under fluorescent halts.
Wine, beer, and liquor lined up in rows,
Each with a story that only it knows.
Laughter spills near the warm asphalt,
Strangers and friends with glasses exalt.

Various brands from famous lands,
Whispering promises with outstretched hands.
French Bordeaux, rich and aged,
Or a smoky Scotch, bold and engaged.
Japanese Suntory, smooth as silk,
Or Italian Prosecco, light as milk.
Enticing labels, a buyer’s dream,
Expensive tastes in a golden gleam.

A few thousand for a Merlot’s grace,
Several more for Hennessy’s embrace.
Would it be foolish, would it be wise,
To spend for the comfort of midnight sighs?
To chase away this lonesome view,
In the depths of amber, in sips I pursue.

Some would say San Miguel is enough,
That Ginebra is divine, strong and tough.
A drink for the bold, the brave at heart,
A toast to beginnings, to ends, to starts.
A mug of Sapporo, crisp and light,
Will do for me on this weary night.

Take me to Ralph’s where the bottles gleam,
Where echoes of laughter fill my dream.
Where liquid gold in glasses sways,
And bittersweet thoughts melt away.
For in this time of trouble, just for a while,
Let me forget and drink with a smile. 

What If She Were Here?

How wishful I am that she were here for a glass,
Red or white, or even green—bittersweet for a lass.
A toast beneath the Makati night,
City lights flickering, burning bright.
As neon reflections dance on the street,
I wonder if here, our hands would meet.

A bottle uncorked, the stories flow,
Whispers of vineyards from lands I don’t know.
Möet for laughter, Carlo Rossi so sweet,
Henriot whispers where lovers once meet.
Jägermeister, bold and wild,
Suntory smooth, aged and styled.
Chivas Regal, golden and deep,
Jameson warming where secrets keep.
Singleton swirling, amber in hue,
Each sip a memory—one lost, one new.

Pardon my musings, alone at this table,
Trapped in a moment, both fragile and stable.
A mug of Sapporo, crisp and true,
Drowning echoes of a past we once knew.
The weight of a bottle, the scent of the air,
Would she have held it, with elegance rare?
Would she have smiled, with mischief or grace,
Letting the night paint dreams on her face?

Glasses clinking, laughter untamed,
Music alive, yet I feel unnamed.
For among these brands, these bottles and hues,
I find myself lost in thoughts of you.
If only you were here to drink and delight,
To wander with me through this Makati night.

If She Doesn’t Like Coffee

If she doesn’t like coffee, then what will suffice?
Perhaps a deep red merlot in the glow of dim lights,
Or a glass of cabernet sauvignon, rich, bold, and divine,
To wash down the troubles that weigh on her mind.
A mug of Sapporo, golden and true,
Letting the bubbles chase sorrow anew.
For in times of crisis, when moments feel hollow,
We drink to our lives, be it joy or sorrow.

She likes the way to hold a bottle, fingers tracing its shape,
A moment of silence, a slow sip to take.
Is it for comfort, for solace, for fun?
Or just for the weight of the glass in the sun?
A quiet distraction, a habit unspoken,
A drink half-forgotten, a thought left unbroken.

If she doesn’t like coffee, then maybe instead
A mug filled with warmth, where cocoa is spread.
With marshmallows floating, melting so slow,
A comfort she holds when the cold winds blow.
Or perhaps a fine tea, a delicate art,
Earl Grey with bergamot, awakening the heart.
Oolong, so fragrant, with whispers of leaves,
Or chamomile’s softness, like silk in the breeze.

Yet I wonder aloud, as I gaze at the frame,
A picture of her with a mug in her name.
What secret it holds, dark liquid inside,
Is it coffee or something she’s chosen to hide?
Not water, not cocoa, not tea, yet it lingers,
A mystery cradled between her small fingers.
If she doesn’t like coffee, then what could it be?
A drink of her choosing—uncharted, unseen.

A Sip of Margarita

A sip of summer,
salted rim against my lips,
bitter, sweet, and bright—
a moment held on my tongue,
melting before I can breathe.

O fleeting sunset,
will the sea remember me
when my glass runs dry?
Or am I just passing foam,
a wave swallowed by the tide?

Laughter drifts away,
ghosts clink glasses in the dusk,
shadows on the sand.
Did I drink or was I drunk,
was I here or was I gone?

Lime lingers, fading—
like voices, like warm embraces,
like names on the shore.
No more thirst, no more longing,
only wind, only silence.

So I take my leave,
one last sip of golden light,
one last grain of salt,
falling toward the endless sea,
where all tides return as one.