Psuedo-intellectual musings
While condemning elitist ink smears
Coffee stained evolutions in thought
Might not be enough to save us from fear
I never joined their convent
Grammatical errors in the campus revue
Yet I still fell in love with the library clerk
Such a scandal was hardly breaking news
Searching to survive through ambiguous dreams
Perhaps with the flex of a dollar store pen
A mere commoner, in every sense
Soon forgotten once you gaze upon prettier men
Blowing the dust off our individuality
Making sure our hands have the proper grip
Clutching the pen to jot a delicate ode
Black coffee; bold inscriptions with each sip
Once awake, I turn to the written word
Exacting the notes conjured; never by rote
Lost with the margins of a fool’s errand
I’m quiet, but compassion might just be the antidote
Predawn hours with scalding coffee
Reading myths & legends from days of old
Disrupting the current faulty paradigms
Audibly spoken & once more properly told
These distorted visions have escaped
Any deliberate application of thought
No longer shilling for flawed traditions
Nor quoting misfired dissertations gone to rot
The harsh expectations of a lady
Rolling you out of your nylons
& into a plush bathrobe
Coffee tasting like steel girded pylons
Theories of internal transformation
The silence of the changing tides
The faded fashion of a glimpsed youth
Finding a peace where we can both reside
The floorboards weren’t so cold this morning
Days grow longer, you can sense it in the air
Constellations shifting in the early sky
Brewing coffee pitch black to see if my pulse is still there
Waking to see the American Dream broken
But that’s only if you ever believed it was real
For now I’m going to enjoy this cup while it’s warm
& bask in this Springtime while I can still feel
Starting the morning in the big chair
Listening to train sounds on the record
From dad’s vintage vault
Drinking black coffee
Looking out the window
At the silence down the street
What shall we make of this day?
Giant sighs to begin the day
Spiritual attempts to center myself with verse
Coffee to coax the hopeful sun’s rays
I stand proudly naked; deterioration’s only getting worse
I’m seeking a truth within these fragmented words
My thoughts won’t cooperate with how my fingers move
Typing on this old handmedown machine to transform
My mundane existence into a magical, deliberate groove
I am not afraid to expose the flesh of a wilted soul
There are no heroes in these parts, just broken misanthropes
Internalizing the segmented society & all the villains
Returning to coffee so black the void regains precious hope
Waking amongst frozen palm trees
Inhaling air when its a mere shadow of a day
Hoodie donned; sipping coffee on the porch
Salt breeze causing the fronds to sway
Theorizing over a second cup
My mind just now beginning to glow
Slowly churning inadvertently
Casually tossing out tidbits I know
Seeing my reflection in the spoon
Greymatter a superior substance though
Probably going to need a third cup
If these thoughts are going to flow
Smelling of lukewarm coffee & disillusion
Rough mornings coming from too little sleep
Nightmares of our mutual defaulted dreams
Yet you weren’t rumored to be that deep
Stagnant when we were supposed to be more
Odd vibrations upon the last & final pew
Still looking for Her among mismatched notes
But she can make old poems smell brand new
Sitting here dissenting all forms of gov’t
Looking for answers in these coffee grounds
Uncovering more & more hatred, with less hope
These political ovations do nothing but compound
Society has gone astray, Jesus take the wheel
We’re all being watched by a perched black bird
Incoherent shrieks & mumbles of “Nevermore”
Universities stacked with all the quotes they misheard
Where are the heroes to protect democracy of the republic
In the wake of fraudulent saints & a presidential pretender
We must devise a prophecy to overtake our future
Lady Liberty’s hem is ablaze; with no elder statesmen to defend her
We’re led by fools, fractures & frauds
Finding ourselves at crossroads armed like Checkpoint Charlie
History won’t be kind to the weak or evil all the same
Needing a guardian like Justice Ginsburg on a Harley
I’m raising a small army of Lost Girls
Feminist soldiers marching – in all but the name
Seeking love, peace & equality for all the people
Hindering harmony will leave you squarely to blame
We all have our differing loyalties
But truth will prevail when time comes to an end
Our trials will be but mere footnotes to antiquity
Faceless angels guiding youth; they shall forever be a friend
Standing in line for a morning cup
After a pot or two, I’ll be content
But you’re holding up progress
Your specialty is causing me to resent
My anger is slow to rise
But the barista is soaking in your beauty
The rest of us are dying of fatigue & thirst
All the while methinks you’re a bit too snooty
The glories of a sunny morning
Smiling into my coffee; subtle credo
Trying to create my masterpiece
But, I’m distracted by my libido
Looking for my stunning bride
Maybe get a little taste under her skirt
A surefire way to get artistic juices flowing
Interest shifted; she can only help, never hurt
Collecting fresh faced girls with monogrammed asses
Spending the morning listening to the Blues
An old soul within that youthful mindframe
Toe tapping, blackout shades & misleading tattoos
I begin to think I’m the one lured
But all we have between us is coffee stained mug rings
Embrace the possibilities of the moment
Join in the beauty of desperate sorrow of BB King
This day is such a sunny tease
Through passion, we become another bedpost notch
A memory Today will keep for all posterity
As she makes me taste the glories of her vagazzeled crotch
Waiting patiently for the Muse’s return
A pure idea to refresh the new day
Tepid sips off the scalding coffee urn
Molding a thought to quietly display
Translating emotion; an implicit admission
Each worthy of their own silent moment
Stretching ink in all the right positions
The journey of imagination with delicious intent
Where is my absurd little coffee this morn
Claiming to be something or other
I rise slower, wiping Pixie Dust from my eyes
Never forget the dreams they try to smother
My gorgeous blonde lady sleeping peacefully
Our love burnt brightly into a passionate fire
I stretch my legs & smile at a job well done
She’ll slumber for a while, for she’s kind of tired
I’ll take my coffee black
Darker than my dreams
Wake from this slumber
Shake her from the reams
Broken umbrellas & sturdy desks
Making no distinctions for the loss of time
Sketching out all the possible plots
Willful heartache remains the worst kind of crime
Put away your stencils & fountain pens
These days call for someone to be original & bold
Toss aside oaken casks of yesteryear’s notion
This world isn’t ready for those who shattered their own mold
Tea cups & china dolls should stay by the wayside
They won’t last long out here if they can’t put up a fight
Early days already simmering, making my coffee feel cold
Survivors must gather; let love be the fruit by which we write
The morning scramble
Make sure you perfectly primp
But until the first cup of joe
My mind continued to limp
Coffee’s the right temperature
A casual moment in my nook
Perusing over my copious notes
That one day need to be a book
Not for my sake or the world’s
But these characters yearn to be free
They’re tapping upon my mind
My course to sanity & their right to be
The carcasses of inspiration
Wine glasses with Burgundy residue
Speaking to late nights & early mornings
Scribbles in the margin on the follow through
Feeling parched as I wake
Noticing your lipstick stains
Upon the rim of the glass
Reminding me of the dreams that remain
Bleary eyed, drinking the coffee grounds
Searching for a fate within the dregs
Fumbling over these typewriter keys
Lightheaded when I see your naked legs
Your smile is a distraction
But you pop a button & then one more
I’m at your complete mercy
Once the nightgown hits the floor
Image by TastyCinnamonn from Pixabay
I’ve stripped myself bare
No longer an ego to drown
My words speak for themselves: aware
I sift for existence in coffee grounds
Judge not – yet you cry foul & unfair
A mirror does not create your frown
Good morning, Beautiful
I’ve brought some coffee to share
Bathe me in your deep caresses
Make me abandon my laissez faire
Intentions have never been pure
I exist in complicated ways
I believe in healthy love & lust
& setting fire to our communiques
Another day of cold coffee & inspirational songs
I’m trying to survive with all my might
I’m not looking to be acceptable
Merely wishing to cherish what’s in my sight
Ink smudges quietly upon my palms
Unsure of my words, failing with adequate prose
Years fall into decades, but still
I’m flailing; conjuring an incomplete rose
The muse sits rocking, mocking
She struts out of reach of what I believe
Taunting me to sell my soul in angst
So I cover my typewriter in a sheet of Celtic weave
I like how it sounds
To have something laced
Even though it’s killing me
I’m drinking scalding coffee
To shake me from these dreams
I’m taking the hottest shower
The burn revives from the steam
This warmth spreads deeper yet
Cohering to my restless bones
After another cup of darkness
Maybe then I won’t feel so alone
Drinking black coffee out of Delta cups
The cheap seats listening to Empire Burlesque
Mixed metaphors crawling in the night
Still pondering why a raven is like a writing desk
Dislodged tea parties & cries of Nevermore
The world swiftly swirling all around me
Reducing myself into my words
Hiding now within punctuation & necessity
Unsure of our place in time
Triangulations are stretch marks on the soul
Society wants me to be all shiny
But more often than not, I’m tired & dull
Where do we find our inspirations
The formulations upon our existence
Personalities discarded to the rubbish pile
Pushing us further away within time & distance
Finding the energy to jump up
To start the day in the sunshine
Collecting smiles from fresh faces
& always returning to the love that’s mine
Pouring another coffee to revive my soul
The blacker the better; deeper than the sea
Knowing secrets which youth will always deny
That happiness is real & it’s forever free
Nonsense & miscalculations they always spew
For they see glitter & everything they never tried
But experience will tell you simple is better
& anything worth fighting for is kept on the inside
Image by Alexander Belyaev from Pixabay
Discounting the overland wages
Discarded notions of an empty word
Dripping coffee on innocently blank pages
Drudging toward all the invocations misheard
A careful morning
Coffee, my steady muse
Hiding in crisp pajamas
Inspiration has a short fuse
Brushing the record as it goes ‘round
Morning comes faster when you can’t sleep
Sipping the tepid coffee down to the grounds
Delirious; mind wandering depths so deep
Trying to move your body; needing a gentle stretch
What more to be done when you can’t think
Misinterpreting grumpiness for ravings of a wretch
Settle down; give me a moment for another drink
The dispassionate sunshine emerges
Calling out my dulled & weary name
Feeling downtrodden so early in the morn
Slowly licked by the sun’s eternal flame
Stretching as I rise from my sheets
Needing reservoirs of coffee in times like this
Stark forms in prospective movement
Daylight meets love’s surefire kiss
Weight of the world
Falling on my shoulders
Rising early to attack the day
Another coffee – going to need to grow bolder
The stress that defines life
The mess that we’ve made
Perception fades to black
Succumbed to the frustrations we’ve displayed
Sympathetic to Atlas’ condemnation
Understanding his modern fate
Premonition this load might explode
Knowing somehow I’ll eventually drop this weight
A cup of coffee sounds mighty nice
Talking away hours in the sun
Warmth after this long cold winter
Experiences overall count as one
Coming times to start all over
No need to hesitate or soften your walk
Forced feelings fall a little short
Take time & measure when you talk
A friend is a friend forever
But be weary as not to injure
Broken hearts never quite heal
Through a loving soul will always endure
Watching the paper soak up errant coffee
Spillage; correcting the bland, empty page
Blocked before you wasted the elixir of life
Words summoned now like a pensive sage
Freely letting loose a volley of images
We are released to our new mode of narration
Blinded aesthetics on a crisp winter morning
Forever allowed to remain alive in short bursts of inspiration
Surviving by the bright light of day
Pouring coffee directly into my weary eyes
Can’t sleep at night since I must remain alert
Anxious; trying to hide my soul’s invisible cries
Gathering my wits to merely successfully exist
Waiting for the other shoe to drop & Hell to begin
Tired of cowering away in forgotten silence
Appearing strong since no one sees the enemy within
These are dreary days
With swamp fog descending upon us
I’m not one to shift blame
Knowing the weight of a day’s jaundice
Another coffee is not going to save us
Nor cause the inevitable doom
So let us pour a cup of darkness
In defiance of such obvious gloom
Break free from all your interlocking rules
Unsatisfactory way to start your day
Too fatigued to suffer gladly these fools
Waiting for a sunrise in an errant way
I’d rather return to my bed, closing my eyes
No other way to explain how I’m so damn tired
Can’t get my life together after all these tries
My number always called, but I’m feeling expired
What will it take for me to finally see
Time to stumble forward for that pot of coffee
Lounging early in the morning
She wore an animal print I couldn’t recall
I poured another cup to erase the cobwebs
A chilly morning; slipping past Fall
She was sleek & beautiful, a deadly shade
Overly dramatic in the best possible sense
Passion in abundance for my sole benefit
Edging to a climax at our soul’s expense
Cold coffee & a stash of lost dreams
A distant memory of those rail yards
But we weren’t ourselves with honesty
Not the renegades or anything that hard
Images of what we might yet become
Grabbing self-regard before it fades
Destroying their notions of modernism
Returning to polka dotted shirts & dark shades
We all have our morbid skeletons
The vague semblance of a broken soul
But somewhere are the clues to the truth
Somewhere when lightning meets a weary, old skull
The Winter winds keep us bundled
Sending us shivering & reeling
Dreams of a warm drink by the hearth
Caught up in those distant feelings
Our checklists remain unchecked
Hustle, bustle & we’re forever hurried
There must be a moment to calm ourselves
To enjoy coffee in the midst of this flurry
Liberation granted by the morning alarm
Still alive; this body aching with rippling fatigue
October visions, yet I’m safe from obvious harm
Visions dwindling; remnants of horrific intrigue
Seeking out coffee to loosen this slumber
A stretch & chance to deliberately mourn
These dreams encrusted in burnt umber
Sworn to abide by the wisdom of Nat Hawthorn
The terror that befalls us when we’re unaware
Soon free from the slow tolling of the funeral bell
Needful sleep caught us within a nightmare
Unconsciously breaking from a manufactured hell
Visions of dropping acid with William Blake
Dawn is our escape; returning to peace as we wake
Waking up to deliberations
An itching need to create
Warming myself with coffee
Unfolding thoughts I contemplate
Looking for a new sunshine
Eclipses as the morning grows
Coffee slowly loses its warmth
The way only the fatigued might know
Sleepless nights convort to visions
Dreams well placed into our eyes
Caffeine not enough to shake souls
Waking to these cotton candy skies
Spinning my empty cup on the table
Attempts at any fully formed thought
My mind completely wiped clean
I spy my woman’s naked form; damn she’s hot!
We’ve survived another night
I wake to pinks, purples & blues
The Almighty with a new creation
When She draped the sky in royal hues
Stretching, creaking & yawning
With chaos falling all around me
Rising slowly before dust settles
It’s time to pour myself fresh coffee
My hands shake
As I raise an overfull cup of coffee
Perhaps already had enough
But I’ll continue to be me
These roads, waterways & paths
The most beautiful moments I’ve come across
I love you, but I sometimes I have needs
Today I’m going to purposely get lost
I don’t really have an answer, Ma’am
I’m struggling to survive, just like you
A little poetry, doused with morning coffee
I hope to find the strength to make it through
Erratic rumblings first thing in the morning
Thoughts all aglow from castiron candlesticks
Sunrise hasn’t interrupted my intercession
Another cup of coffee might ease my ticks
After watching too many hectic movie scenes
A set of expectations upon our furrowed brow
But I need to recede into my own soul
Let us return to existing in the here & now
You’re happiest when spooning a salted bourbon
& I’m certainly not one to overtly judge
But I’m at a crossroads in this life
From that woman; my heart defiantly won’t budge
Another tepid morning, waiting silently
Dawn yet to break, but my head feels that way
These dog days lapse like a bit of purgatory
Standing before St. Patrick with nothing to say
Teetering & more than slightly confused
Checking my watch; praying its not too late
Did my heart stop? How did I go so astray
Jolted back- the Almighty’s nectar begins to percolate
The illustrious words of Hunter (the elder)
We ante’d more than our parents’ share
Broken cups of mottled modeling clay
Abstinence leaving you lonely & bare
Chanting Yeats without a voice
A rye smile at the lively night’s end
Cocktail girls when only a wife will do
Looking to the heavens to make amends
Time is failing on a tractional level
Bleak mornings to come calling back
Needing to move without giving notice
Resurrection only possible with coffee this black
Pounding away at those keys
Not enough coffee to still remain
Eyes close at each stopping point
Expected, but can’t ever refrain
I love you through & through
No matter the ups or downs
You just keep on doing you
I’ll make sure neither of us drown

Unfettered and unlined
Drinking coffee deep into the night
Unfiltered; seeing life as it truly is
Feeling raw, returning to my machine to write
I’m pulling the strings, creating fictional tales
A life breathing under these mechanical keys
Slowly coming to the surface
A birth in words, triumph in moment’s like these
Our fragile egos remain outright
Yet still free – not compelled by those
In the trenches we find disaster
Inspired to richly & sullenly compose
How do we heal? How do we grow?
Absorbing vibrations & her headspace blues
Redefinition of cool among the vulnerable
Rising morale since she turned off the news
Erratic dreams of dismantling love
The early signposts to the apocalypse
Gentle rise becomes glaring to our eyes
Summer mornings feel fresh on our nips
Ground control to juxtaposed fallacies
Squandering purest moments we’ll know
With no intention to rattle a dull saber
Paradise; when I only wanted a cup of joe
Catcalls at dawn
It’s too early for this
I haven’t had my coffee
Please settle down there, Miss
I need a moment
For I enjoy this attention
Such important thoughts
Are beyond my comprehension
Endless hours of love on café sidewalks
The world was beautiful & we were free
We were together; we were holding hands
& we were as happy as we could be
But then we were separated & deprived
The days are not so lovely & bright
I shall never let them get the better of us
For I shall spend every day in this fight
When they ask me why I can still smile
‘I know what true love is’ will be my reply
This world is weak compared to my love
Know that you are always the gleam in my eye
Come on up for a cup of coffee
I hope you’ve brought your cheery attitude
My place will be easily discovered
The one with the gentleman toasting you in the nude
Watching the horizon
Driving on Beach Blvd
When you’re down here
Life isn’t nearly as hard
A steaming cup of coffee
As the sunrise grows
Today will be great
But who really knows
Daylight creaking up over the Atlantic
First light’s rays struggling over the sea
My bones seem to have a bit of rust
Better lubricate with some more coffee
Dancing upon the shores of the St. John’s
We don’t need carpets; red or otherwise
We only need our bare skin to touch
Ending with me whispering between your thighs
Trying out stories in the morning
Typing away on this ol’ machine
Thinking of something different
A genius the world’s never seen
But I can’t think of anything great
I guess I’ll get more coffee instead
I hear a whistle from my lady
I guess my love needs me back in bed
The coffee brews early today
Gotta get up before the sun
A race to find my soul’s way
Fresh air fueling this next run
A woman not marked, boiled in thought
Slowly escaping melancholy with each sip
Sitting, staring out her kitchen window
Contentious dreams emitted from parted lips
Coffee can stimulate a bored mind
The house to be prepared for a festive banquet
A morose morning, lingering in the cool air
Providing a bounty for the Heavenly set
I’m just trying to live my life
Extending some gratitude along the way
Showing the people how I can love
For we never know when it’ll be our last day
I don’t always wake up with a smile
But it’s always easier if I somehow do
Grabbing black coffee & my woman’s ass
Together with a grin; I’m gonna make it through
Image by <a href=”https://pixabay.com/users/Free-Photos-242387/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=690174″>Free-Photos</a> from <a href=”https://pixabay.com/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=690174″>Pixabay</a>
Smelling coffee long before
These tired eyes were ever meant to open
Dreading wakin’ and meetin’ people
No time like now, so here’s to hopin’
The day started & it’s past time to rise
One foot out & eventually the other leg
I’m going to need more of this magic juice
I feel society comin’ at me like the damn plague
Maybe the morning
Doesn’t; it just doesn’t have to be
You rise a little softer on that day
Emerging from a cocoon for me to see
Winter blankets fall away like nebulae
Taller than is expected from a Belle
Not so confident at first light
The arching sun; the pillory of hell
Stretching in my threadbare shirt
A shake of your hips
When first the brew hits your lips
But I want to watch
As you take another vainglorious sip
The molten life-sustaining elixir
Down the gullet another cup is poured
Pitch black; the only way to drink
An awakening that just won’t be ignored
Stretching my arms into the morning
Reaching to take the sun in my embrace
Another sip; life will be mine
Success is surviving; sunshine on your face
Wilting roses by the fireside
Coffee warming bones chilled from the boat
Drifting thoughts to stagnant memories
Thawing words from poems you never wrote
Ducking my head between the pages
This mounting pile – high on my desk
Picture postcard from the far gone
Lost her to traveling’ roadside burlesque
Hiding my mind between the sheets
But my coffee had long grown cold
Writings spilled slightly on the saucer
Loneliness steeped until its forever bold
Life isn’t as perfect as we make it seem
It gets a little messy outside our dreams
But newly rise in the early morning hours
Sex sweat/coffee fueled; ready for a shower
Time to live – life isn’t somethin’ you can stream
Complexities of unknown riddles
Mysteries to the source of these ink stains
Swabbing my soul with straight coffee
A distraction from my unseen pain
Last season’s vintage with coffee stains
Spelling out what we might genuinely need
Hope we might outlive our transgressions
Errant dispatches; all the ones you forgot to read
Life has a way of working out
When you rise in the early morning hours
Sip your coffee & focus on the positive
You’ll find inner strength, not superpowers
Quietly sending out the proper vibes
Some days – be humble & pay your dues
Keep calm & marinate in your good karma
For soon, you’ll be running around in your Underoos
Waking up before the sun
To quietly drink coffee & read
I have this worn & aging body
But a youthful intellect to feed
Take advantage of the still hours
Before the chaos of my daughters
Soon I’ll be tied up like Gulliver
& this coffee won’t get any hotter
Those words come to me in those coffee dreams
A spontaneous marvel of literary delight
There’s a difference between manufactured beauty
& a real beauty, founded by nature’s authentic right
But I can’t explain the nuances with the definition
I’m not one to judge such subjective whims
Focusing on my own qualms & dangling thoughts
Let us sit, pour another cup, let’s solve these problems
I’m not bothered by such trifling issues as rules
Let them worry about my intents & being misconstrued
I let my chosen pages explain all I’m willing to
I’m more concerned if that pot has finished it’s brew
Green mermaid lady
I’m still in love with you
Always been good to me
My affections are overdue
Dimly lit stages for hire
Writing out these feelings
Jittered & confused tonight
Staggered & now kneeling
Inspiration to keep on going
Confidence in my finer words
Blocked out memories past
Forgetting what was heard
Know where you want to be
So I’ve come back to you
Capitalism be damned!
Pour me something new
Image by marvette critney from Pixabay
“No, you have to pour more in.”
“This is okay. You don’t want to use too much.”
“The color is off.”
“I’m getting there.”
“Okay, I think it is time to stir.”
“Yeah, I think so.”
The elves were perched upon his old coffee mug. Together they were stirring the creamer in with all their collective strength. Their small hands gripping the wooden spoon, careful not to fall into the steaming liquid concoction below.
“What do you think?”
“It looks good.”
“Yeah, that looks to be the right combination.”
“We better go.”
“Yeah, he’ll be up soon.”
The man walked into his dimly lit kitchen, rubbing his eyes. His glasses were propped up over his brow. He stood in the doorway, clothed in his usual plaid pajama pants and v-neck undershirt. Every morning was the same. He came into the kitchen and mindlessly pressed the button on the coffeemaker. Then he watched the precious coffee fall into the pot, always anxious for the first cup.
His coffee was waiting for him. Confusion swept over him. He always had to make his own coffee. His knew his wife and children were still asleep. It would be a few hours before he had any company, even the dog remained curled up. He slowly walked in to investigate. It had the perfect coloring. He timidly touched the side of the cup. It was hot.
Within his peripheral, he noticed movement out on the back lawn. When he looked out there, he saw nothing. The man unlocked the door and stepped out into the calm morning air. He smiled and shook his head. He went back inside and enjoyed the best cup of coffee he ever had.
The End.
or
When he stepped outside, the man noticed tiny footprints. There were a few blades of grass that were trampled just so. He noticed a slight iridescent glow to those peculiar blades. The footprints went across the lawn into his wife’s rose bushes. The man smiled. He hadn’t thought about them since he was a child.
The End.
Morning departures
A silent plane overhead
Black coffee warming
But I’d rather be in bed
Waking too early
Quiet village in my eyes
An empty mug
But it’s a pretty sunrise
Captain Q 