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Jaron Jan 2019
From the cupboard two mugs are brought
Grounds are measured, water hot
The drips fill up the coffee ***

From the spout the bold brew streams
One sweet with sugar, rich with cream
The other black, reflection gleams
Both give rise to wisps of steam

Anticipation piqued
Each unique 

At first, slow sips with careful words
Not too much, don’t get burned

Pleasure comes with each sip
The words caressing from your lip
Drinks become deeper, feelings slip

My cup’s now empty, but my heart is lit
talk to me until we fall in love. do I love you or the brew?
Isaac Spencer Dec 2018
Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep,
I sincerely doubt I can,
Coffee, more coffee.
teni Nov 2018
my hands are shaking
even just typing this

you make me jittery
my mind is hyperactive
i cant focus on a **** thing

each thought lasts less than a second
bouncing back and forth
between topics

our relationship is bitter sweet
i may love the taste
but i hate the effects you have on me

once i finish the cup
youre gone
yet you linger in the worst ways

how do i stop this
how can i make it go away

i am desperate to get you out of my system
Emily Nov 2018
Morning.
Temporary ceasefire with insomnia,
Marked by cheerful birds.

Morning.
Start of hostilities with drowsiness,
Combating alertness ceaselessly.

Morning.
Opening salvo with heavy caffeine support,
Awakening the senses with hot beverages.

Morning.
Food, an uncertain ally.
Alertness or comas—it’s sometimes close.

Morning.
Battle lines redrawn,
But war continues perpetually.
Outside Words Oct 2018
Business people live silly little lives…
Walking so fast in pleated pants…
Racing around self-imposed mazes…

Will they have anything to say when it’s all over?

Everyday spent “delivering solutions”…
Neutered emotionless existences…
Sitting there with that doe eyed look…

Will they have anything to say when it’s all over?

Driving cars and tolerating personal lives…
Each and every day a pre-defined process…
Anxiety, fear and caffeine distorting brains…

Will they have anything to say when it’s all over?
© Outside Words
Dream Fisher Sep 2018
Sick of being stuck awake,
I should probably bake a cake,
Stuff a file inside, then sit for an hour of wait,
Another hour to cool, use the tool to pry my mind from this cage
Blow out the candles, the world becomes my stage
But I fall flat on a crowd with button eyes, deaf ears,
Rusted mental gears, and smiles looking at me queer.
"Hi I'm Ryan, I'm a poet. I belong here."
Reading to a generation that skipped reading,
Stuck feeding off of the **** for free
Asking for another handout that a past life made them believe
They deserved, too delicate, while I stay thick like corduroy,
Poking fun like I should take some ilk, you're too soft
I destroy you, still drinking mother's milk, you're soft as silk.
Don't make me spell it out, we are cut from different cloth.

I've sat with my life choices happy as an oyster
In a month that doesn't have an "R"
People walk through the door and try to raise my bar,
You couldn't come close, don't judge those who trudge
Through mud and sludge then take a second to coast,
I'm still a star while others whack the green,
Barely even keeping up with par.

I don't even have enemies, I get angry with my own mind
That tells me I should be on a steady grind
Then find myself too tired to stay awake
Too awake to fall asleep, let's write it out,
I never was one to be good at counting sheep
I took to counting breaths, counting beats,
Never couldn't count on me, have a seat.
Let's talk it out and bake a cake,
Another file filed so I can free this cage,
I flee the stage.
lins Sep 2018
you're like caffeine in my veins
the way you get to me
stop me in my tracks
make it hard to breathe

when I'm near you
I can't feel time pass
you make my eyelids close
and my heart beat fast

a moment with you
is like a single drip
of that strong coffee
that you love to sip

I need you closer
I'm getting addicted
this isn't healthy
look what you've inflicted
ncg
L Aug 2018
When in

Doubt

Drink 6 shots of espresso


Or, you know, maybe dont.
Whatever.
A Simillacrum Jul 2018
Night & her infernal hues
push the caffeine drip.
I'm caffeinated.

Night & her peyote cues
push the whole world flat.
I'm gelatinous.

Goo, yes, goo.
Star
to form
to dust
to mud.

Night & her violet light
guide me in to silence.

Silence but
for the strike
of a Clipper
or the pop of a
bottle top or
the rip of a
zipper.
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