O, my dearest and most enticing caffeine
Without you, the world would be grey
For each time you reach for my heart
It both flutters and beckons the day
So generous and giving, thou doth art
The simmering sound of your can intoxicates me
Carbonation so sweet; you give me motivation all week
To continue this molecular love story

Pour out your heart and soul,
and others read and say… so?
That's the way it goes,
when one is a writer.
Agonize over just the right word
and others read right over it.
It's absurd, the life of a writer.
Why do we do it? They ask.
We answer, Why do we breathe?
Oh, to be a writer.

CR Binion

You help me to recover in the state of confussion
In a room of uncertainty where things are all in blurry
The million thoughts in my mind
You gave me a reason to pour it down and inked it.

You'd shown me how clueless it will be if it is left stored
Maybe your touch told me to break the barriers
Because i read in your eyes a classic story
That made me realize that I can still made the most meaningful form of poetry.
You clean up the mess.
You've touched my heart through a very small spark,
Just as a flower blosoms after the winter
And the ship settle after the storm.

I'm afraid I can no longer write*
So please, just break my heart
There's nothing more that I can give
Leave me be until I die
And in my words is where I'll live
But you'll be forever in my lines
We'll part ways but in both good terms
I'll hold my pen, you'll hold her hand
I don't want to end up hurting you
So do it now before I do

I sit here quietly
in amazement,
as the planet spins
twenty-thousand
mile-per-hour,
wondering if,
as the moons sinks west,
the songbirds
feel the vibration
of the rising sun.

And I know
they must,
by the songs
they sing,
in brilliant harmonies.