I came into this bar for a drink.
I hope the flowers I gave you smell sweet.
They are white
I hope you begin
To view me
As I view you.
Please want me back.
I only came into this bar for a drink.
But it isn't helping me
Like I thought it would.
Please want me back.
I need coffee
Before this coldness leaves my feet
Or the snowflakes fall any freer onto the city streets
I need such coffee inside of me
Because without it’s joy and prolonged warmth
I cannot be alive and well
Let alone this representation of me
So do not question before I wake
Just pour the coffee for goodness sake
And if I must make it myself
I will with a vengeance, a sleep induced will
Though once I’m awake I’ll wonder still
What dependency is this which I’ve built
The need to mix my water mixed with beans
Perhaps not the coffee, but it is the caffeine
Which gets me out and wakes me up
So that I might not feel asleep
As I am driving these winter roads
Saying dearest coffee would you please
Wake me so that I can feel at ease
I came across a BMW 528i today -- same make and model as yours, same rusty maroon clunk piece of shit you drove so proud. Could’ve been yours, with its cracked leather and yellow stuffing vomiting from seat to the floor, steering wheel worn from your callouses. High school football team kind of callouses, country boy livin' kind of callouses. Inverted smile, dimpled chin, kind brown eyes kind of callouses. Take a girl like me on a 4-wheeler and make her scream middle of a Sunday kind of callouses. Raise in surprise as headlights blind you in Charleston kind of callouses. Lay limp with pavement shot through your skull and bone shards in your leg kind of callouses. Some drunk kid driver says just some fuckin drunk kid crossing the street, came out of fuckin nowhere. You were some drunk kid, but you had the right of way, and how couldn’t he see you? You brought the light wherever you went, drunk kid, and now you're ICU comatose-kid, and thousands of us are thinking about you back home. Drunk kid, high school football star kind of kid, just out for a drink kind of kid. Likes his cars like his women – flashy, look past the maintenance kind of kid. But your girl’s back home projectile vomiting yellow body stuffing through leather heroin lips, and your 528i is somebody else’s, and they didn’t appreciate it like you did, kid. It's just sittin’ in the street, and you’re just lost. Some kind of hospital kid.
Buzz, buzz, buzz go the bees, around and around my trees.
Making for me a little honey to put into my sweet mead.
The flavors will be so sweet, when I mix water with honey.
So thank you little bees for helping to make such sweet mead for me.
The bees are such awesome fellows, such very hard workers indeed.
So thank you my little friends, for the work you have done for me and my mead.
Michael Robert Triska Copyright 2017
Music in the air
Africa in Me
One, Two, Three
We feel free
Four, Five, Six
Moving to the mix
Seven, Eight, Nine
Spin her around
See her smile
Hair spills all over
A twinkle in her;
African in Me
Love for our roots
A song that unites
Everyone is kind
No one left behind
We are all one
Thanks to those