#caf
Al terminar la noche
no queda mucho más
que este café frío
y tu nombre tibio
dando vueltas en mi boca.
Las palabras ya se acostaron
los relojes bostezan
y la ciudad parpadea
como si también soñara con vos.
No sé si mañana vas a estar
pero esta noche
te pensó cada sombra,
te quiso cada pausa,
te escribió cada verso sin apuro.
Y si el mundo se apaga
o se reinventa de golpe,
a mí que no me falte
el milagro
de haberte amado
al terminar la noche.
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025 at 12:44 AM UTC
It is a full moon,
music sounds from the café --
I'm not one of them.
Dec 8, 2024
Dec 8, 2024 at 2:50 AM UTC
The corner café
must close, because times have changed --
There is a new law.
Dec 29, 2023
Dec 29, 2023 at 1:53 AM UTC
The café is full,
I am outside and I feel --
the comfort that's there.
Apr 20, 2023
Apr 20, 2023 at 3:56 AM UTC
The Old Café
It's my go to place,
has been for years,
The Wildwood Café,
an eclectic tiny place
with a mix of old dinette
tables and mismatched chairs.
the cutlery also unmatched
and well used, old photos
and signs adorn the walls
and there is usually a line
of people waiting patiently
on benches outside.
Best of all there is this pleasant
girl, always wearing a welcoming
smile, who seems to know us all.
She knows my order by heart,
Ham and eggs over medium,
a half ration of potatoes, home baked
slice of bread, well toasted, well buttered,
home made salsa on the side, a cup of
"hot" Black English Tea. Tall water no ice.
If I arrive between the busy times, she may
sit down at my table and we talk a while,
It's not a big thing, just chitchat, I'm old
enough to be her grandfather, it's the
dessert before my meal served with genuine
friendliness and unforced civility, not often
encountered in these strange days and times, it's a slice of small town America at it's purest best, she and folks like her help sustain my belief that basic human decency is far from dead.
The food is always good, but it's the comforting embrace of familiarity and
simple warm kindness that assures my frequent return.
It's the little things in life that make living
wonderful, small moments in time felt and
recorded, this is but one of those.
Feb 4, 2020
Feb 4, 2020 at 7:46 PM UTC
Coffee
Rich and dark
Slowly spinning in a white cup,
Therapeutic aromatherapy
Creating a warm feeling
Even sophisticated,
A smell that sells houses
Breakfast
Sizzling, crackling into life
Taste-buds still blurred
From the grogginess of sleep,
Bacon and eggs
Like Morecambe and Wise
An inseparable odd couple
Newspaper
Folded and re-folded
Onto an article of vague interest,
Words from another world
Unimaginable, war torn, desolate,
Colder than the rain-washed street
Outside this café window
Cigarette
The first of the day
Smouldering between yellowed
Fingers moulded to its shape,
Smoke slightly burning eyes
That are awakening to
Another fragment of life
Jul 22, 2019
Jul 22, 2019 at 1:15 PM UTC
Smooth sounds fill the coffee scented air,
smoke flies around like butterflies on warm summer days.
Easy going conversations with hearty laughter whisper softly in my ear,
The fire is flickering softly giving the room a candle glow.
People come and go letting in a cool breeze, the fall air rushes through the doors, From the corner music pours out of the musician into the customer's soul.
I watch people leave, with a simile on their face that they hadn't had before coming in.
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 11:21 AM UTC
Oh what am I doing?
Where am I?
She suddenly arises
and finds herself
write alone
at the corner of a street café
Almost midnight
Traffic
-an ambiguous passer by-
endlessly composes
lingering silences
in between
with a half gaze
around half a circle
She gradually notices
a half drunk cold-now
cup of tea
a half eaten pastry
some halved eyes
eyeing her
behind half a skull
in curiosity
but
her half look
is being called urgently
down again
by the reverie
She as if from another planet
sees back her hands
Hands write on just
ceaselessly
without needing her
without her knowing
Wow! she says
and sinks back to her dream
to become a truth of the words
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 5:58 AM UTC
Meet me at the café at 5pm,
It really can't wait.
I text you.
Two hours later you reply;
Not today, no.
Why not?
You are no longer allowed to ask questions.
Why not?
We are no longer together.
Why not?
You messed it up.
Did I?
Let's not go through this again.
It's fine but I want to see you today.
I told you I can't.
I don't know which hurts more
The fact that you moved on
Or the fact that I couldn't.
F.Z.N
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 11:48 AM UTC