#espresso
Semester finals are next week.
The ultimate study groove requires a certain ambience, like a cafe.
Nothing fancy, any shop that’ll let me grift, at a table unbothered, for six hours - with the rain tip-tapping the window, like a pulse needing auscultation - will do.
I’m on the no-sleep bus and there’s no coasting
luckily, my hippocampus flourishes in café's light.
I’m trading sleep for synapses
with drills on repeat - if I rest, I forget, if I keep thinking, I fray
but exhaustion can buy me two more rounds of flashcards
I’m pumping espresso blood
wearing half-ironed looks
Have you ever noticed how the Paris metro-map resembles a somatic nerve? On the metro, between Porte de Saint-Ouen and École Militaire
- as Paris slides by - I practice diagramming the scapula on my iPad Air. Blurry Paris, blurry neon, blurry anatomy.
And I’m starting to think in Latin - ‘os talus coniungitur..’
If I’m not memorizing something,
it’s because my mind’s been scraped raw
and I’m on autopilot - more often than not,
Peter (my bf) drags me to bed @ 2am
But salvation comes - next Saturday - in the form of Noel school break.
.
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🎄🦌 Songs for this: 🎄🦌
https://daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_18.mp3
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os talus coniungitur = nursery rhyme “the ankle bone’s connected to..”
auscultation = examination
Dec 12, 2025
Dec 12, 2025 at 9:40 AM UTC
...kinda scary.
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMDCCXI)
Espresso's grand for shelving that detail
Known as fatigue, my mind without defense,
And by late morn, here, and in fragments, whence
Forget how to do aught, by half, as I fail.
Crawl home and call today done, left sans bail
Work oernight in tow. Oh sweet pretense!
Catnap how many hours? and oh! They thence
Are clam'ring for canned food til what'd avail?
It is so cold! Oh goodee!! Now in tour
To use the oven 'gain! The fish sticks too
Long tugging at my sleeve at last ours fer
Late lunch, sans tarter sauce, I guess we'll do
Aeoli. Fall asleep ere that, bestir
Me just for work. LORD, thank you. I wait You.
04Sep25b
Sep 15, 2025
Sep 15, 2025 at 12:45 PM UTC
I could see it in his eyes
But then...
Ten seconds
The time it takes a shot to die
Or a moment to pass
Apr 7, 2021
Apr 7, 2021 at 5:26 PM UTC
settling for less is the war
everyone's trying to flee from,
but in fact,
settling for less is
an extra shot of espresso
in the coffee that we
drink each morning
in an attempt
to avoid being alone
for the rest of the day.
Oct 15, 2020
Oct 15, 2020 at 9:02 PM UTC
sculpt you in the palm of my hand
chisel your most fragile features until i feel your raw
coarse frame
let your hair dangle until is grazes my ever so nourishing skin
that aroma...ahh the aroma of fresh cappuccino hinted with
a vanilla scent
you looked gorgeous in that lavender threaded outfit,
glitter and gleam for me my bedazzling
but why?
why did i splash just a hint of coffee on you this morning
help realize
the infinity of persistence
persistent cruelty
Jan 7, 2020
Jan 7, 2020 at 9:55 PM UTC
sculpt you in the palm of my hand
chisel your most fragile features until i feel your raw
coarse frame
let your hair dangle until is grazes my ever so nourishing skin
that aroma...ahh the aroma of fresh cappuccino hinted with
a vanilla scent
you look gorgeous in that mahogany tinted outfit...fits you splendidly
(splenda)
your heating up . skin must not like the material.
remember when you said you lost my favorite pair of jeans at the dry cleaners?
anyways
my scolding coffee looks better on you than still in my cup.
Jan 7, 2020
Jan 7, 2020 at 9:52 PM UTC
Darkness,
There is nothing to see,
Pitch Black,
Only darkness surrounds me.
Coldness,
There is nothing to keep me warm,
Really cold,
Coldness surrounds me like a swarm.
No Cure,
There is nothing to help me,
It's a disease I can't get rid of,
And it's killing me.
Sep 6, 2019
Sep 6, 2019 at 4:25 PM UTC
"...Merrily, Merrily, Merrily, Merrily/Life is but a dream!" (Row, Row, Row Your Boat)
(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCL)
Wash dinner dishes after dark for sense,
To rise and wash the dishes 'gain, t'avail,
In such wee hours tis night still in betrayl,
The hellish nightmare I was jolted thence
From for this lukewarm taste of what fr'intents
I like to think is sweetest minutes' pale
Chance, hark to rain cuz traffic'd shush in frail
Notes by, to trundle off to work, ah whence?
It's like our sleep was but a nap in tour.
And I half cherish that vague sense we knew
Ere dawn, as blueish twilight warms, astir,
Not lost in slumber, freighted chances to--
What, eh? I do not know. Espressos fer
Time to just savour coffee are good too.
04Apr19c
Apr 5, 2019
Apr 5, 2019 at 10:23 PM UTC
Come, does the title recall a more familiar admonition?
(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCXLIV)
Sip coffee from espresso mugs for sense,
Yes, cradling that wee tazo in betrayl,
To sigh that tis perfection thus, t'exhale.
Feign I don't give a hoot in sheer defense,
And how my niece plays with me til pretense
'Most carries off the trick like't could avail.
Ya, watch as she eats all my grapefruit, frail
Joys juxtaposed 'gainst what? til I'm blind thence.
I told myself "three days..." a week 'go, poor
As thinking I'll do better now. The crew
Of crimson buds wink from the distance fer
Reminders leaves shall soon be fluttring to
Capricious winds in lieu of trash. Bestir
Me to see far off, yet alas, t'won't do.
02Apr19d
Apr 5, 2019
Apr 5, 2019 at 10:02 PM UTC
...grasping water that sifts through my fingers.
(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCXXX)
I sip espresso Dad pulls, foaming thence
The milk to sheer perfection til t'avail,
While not adorned with artistry, the frail
Notes on that white crown look sweet for intents,
As he talks on--oh! I forget what hence--
Til he's pulled his; and though winds howl, th'exhale
Chill like twould send warmth packing, how to scale
Our minutes are as erst...philosphy dense?
Not Shakespeare, nor sweet Shelley to demur
This feigned attempt at glory we'd accrue
By dint of "home barista" now as twere,
Or my half stylish gear the ladies do
But offer kind words for: he lectures poor
Me as wont 'pon that scale to seek, LORD, You.
24Feb19b
Mar 9, 2019
Mar 9, 2019 at 9:44 PM UTC
I drank an espresso
And met with god
We talked of good days past
His son doesn’t call
My mom ****** me up
In his eyes we’re all just dust
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 6:54 AM UTC
<3 <3 <3
She enjoys her morning espresso
while he savors his mug of cappuccino
she shapes his dimpled face
in her newly wakened mind
he imagines her big brown eyes
gazing like a buck...inquiring, yet dreamy
she hums a lover's lullaby, for him,
each morning, before leaving,
he lets his charcoal pencil play
on his ever ready sketch pads
draws her face with pixie haircut
they think of each other day and night
always......at the very same time
yet...not a word is said when their eyes
meet...not an effort done, to break the ice
they'd rather keep things within,
their coffee mugs...witnesses,
to their similar daily practices
what a shame...what a waste!
their elbows, their arms touch in haste
as they hurry....towards the quay,
the ferryboat takes long, they both wait
leaving their untold love go by
along with their unsung lullaby...
it happens daily...without fail
their feelings, bubbling as they sail
but...neither has the guts to bare
how could they let life go on this way?
content with just a secret love affair...
<3 <3 <3
Sally
© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
April 5, 2018
Apr 10, 2018
Apr 10, 2018 at 6:24 AM UTC
taste of espresso in between my teeth
my caffeinated mind, buzzing with rainbow zig zags
boom. a shock wave wracks my intellect
and a three-dimensional bass is lodged behind my ears.
i can hear everything and nothing
silence is fuzz, with cracks of awkward
hope is brought by tiny silver fish
they swim all over my arms, leaving water tracks on my skin
so i slip,
and stumble over my own feet.
my tongue is tied
i feel myself falling behind.
coffee hits me hard
Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 3:45 AM UTC
This espresso tastes like poison,
In spite of all I've added to cover the sweet bitterness
I want to release rather than increase
Release rather than increase
My mind is full, from my ears to my neck to my head,
A consistent pressure throbs
It robs me of peace
Of Mind
We all go through it
We are slaves
We are victims
Of long forgotten systems
We live to work, and work to live
Work to eat, and eat to work
An endless cycle of compromise
Open your eyes
Your senses
Smell the prosperity, the disparity
The paradox
Watch the rise of Pandora's Box
Feed, greed, need
I've planted the seeds of doubt
And watched them grow
Into luminous, prosperous trees
They are silhouettes against the sun
And against the backdrop of the moon
You live in a cocoon
Awaiting a metamorphosis that may or may never be
I live in a cocoon
Awaiting a metamorphosis that may
Or may never
Come
Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 1:20 PM UTC
Um, um, don't let me parse that out yet.
(sonnet #MMMMMMDXLII)
What of the two espressos long gone hence?
Perfection, as lunch' fine spread was t'avail.
Eclipsed in ya, one phone call, aught detail
Was likewise, 'cept our dinner, or the sense
Of fleeting time I grapple for now, whence
Oh me! Now Texas winks at me like's bail,
Ten-gallon hats with crueler heat to scale
Than Lincoln's Land, and lo, a man fr'intents.
It's wonderful to be encouraged fer
All that to fear the LORD. I've missed it too
Long now. To talk together like's not poor--
Of Scriptures--ah, and with a man. I do
But fear now losing what's sae precious, were
It mine to have. Ne coffee's like this brew.
06Aug17b
Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 10:22 PM UTC
Room temperature murmurs pour out over steaming cups and dark wood.
Groggy eyes and half cocked smiles flock here for a socially acceptable chemical dependence. Staring out a window, I watch the restless streets buzz by.
Many in their way to work. Some to enjoy an ever so needed day off. Others in a hurry to promise company beside a hospital bed. None of which I will ever be positive of. Cars driving by. Whirring, feet scuffling on the pavement. Individual existences pass in front of me.
I take a sip. It's always hotter than I'd expect it to be. I never mind it but I never learn my lesson.
Slightly bitter but today I poured too much creamer and that's fine.Different day, different coffee.
Although I'm not alone. Sitting across from me, a ghost of memories I'll always hold dear to me.
You look beautiful today. You always look just the way I remember.
You didn't wear makeup. You hardly ever did.
Just sit and stare out the window together. Trading obsessive stares on occasion. I could drown in you. But please do drink your coffee. We've got a long day ahead of us.
I wonder how cold the seat is across where you used to sit. I can actually see the etchings of adolescent behavior carved into the wooden seat where your body made itself comfortable. Tracing the perimiter line where your shoulders descend down onto your arms resting so lazily on the table while you enjoy the warmth of your cup.
I try to not live in the past. It's a place that's often falsified, Romanticized. But today is different.
Different day different coffee.
I refuse to live in the present tense today. Let me take your hand and let's guess what each passer by is going to do. Just as the table across from us might question our motives.
Isn't this wonderful? The touch of your skin in my hands. I can feel your heartbeat in me. It's always been there. You've made a place for love to sit and it's nestled comfortably in my heart. The light catching your eyes in the slightest way. Illuminating the room. Nobody will notice.
But I do.
I always do.
Turning UV rays into a kaleidoscope of warming images. Turning the old, droll walls into magnificent pieces of art.
Oh, my. This cup is getting cold. It must be time to go. I cannot take you with me, my dear. But I will meet you here tomorrow. I hope to find you here and I hope you'll enjoy your coffee.
Kiss me on the cheek and wave me goodbye. I'm considering a warm refill but I think I'll just take with me this Luke warm drink for once.
Different day. Different coffee.
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 1:18 AM UTC
Espresso Yourself
Word hit like espresso shots,
got that stress of regret you’re best to let it go,
best to express it outta your self tun it into espresso,
or else that regret will fester into gunpowder until it totally explodes,
unload reload,
you’re the gun,
memories are the ammo,
noting is verboten even when forgotten,
this twisted linguistic addict attitude is not an act or a show,
but the derangement of this is entertainment regardless,
and this artist is in demand all around the world,
they want to take my time,
and everything else that I thought was mine,
but I don’t have the time to spare because I’m in a race to nowhere,
trying to find the finish line before I completely lose my mind,
gaining ground in quicksand sick and no one seems to care,
grinding grounds no chitchat i just grab my espresso and get outta there,
there as in here no beer just these coffee beans this is a caffeine affair,
I’ll take a double on the double,
actually if it’s more simple I’ll take a triple,
no milk no sugar no trouble,
just this espresso and these expressions that ripple,
with words hit like espresso shots,
got that stress of regret you’re best to let it go,
best to express it outta your self tun it into espresso,
or else that regret will fester into gunpowder until it totally explodes…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 3:14 PM UTC
In Sintra,
feeling like a New Age ninja,
can barely type I’m so high,
today I climbed three mountains,
we were a trio,
a girl and another guy,
now I’m alone at my castle,
with nothing but these words I write,
see I’m alone tonight,
and alone has never felt so good,
I’ve made a conscious decision to dedicate my life to these writings,
so that hopefully eventually the unexplainable can be understood,
understand?
I write the collective pieces of this puzzle,
that we experience as we exist,
each poem is a piece that falls into place,
until the big picture is what we get,
this,
is not a poem,
this,
is a message in a bottle,
carried across the seas of time,
or actually an ocean in motion,
this is the not so secret ingredient of love potion number 9,
I’m doing fine,
trying to stay on subject,
to appease the public,
without getting to deep into symbolic numerology,
trying to keep it simple,
so we can all understand,
I don’t want to write words that confuse people,
I want to write words that enlighten them,
and in them I mean you,
yes you,
I want to feel you see you hold you be you,
I want to want you without wanting to want you,
and I’m wondering if you’re wanting to want me,
without wanting me too,
shoot,
it’s starting to get complicated,
I didn’t mean to make it personal,
honestly it could have been anyone,
that received my message in a bottle,
I just wrote it,
I didn’t think anyone would really read it,
I didn’t think I’d sell 100,000 copies of my books,
I didn’t think that you’d look at me and believe I’ve succeeded,
see this,
is all becoming a little much,
so I’ve escaped to Sintra,
where it’s the simple things I love,
and you can find me here,
amongst towering trees and fuzzy ferns,
writing words faithfully,
because I’ve learned you get what you earn,
you get what you earn,
as in you reap what you sow,
and the peace from the tree tastes so sweet,
when you take the time to let it grow,
the Tree of Life,
bears the fruits of our labors,
and all I’m really trying to say,
is you are you’re own best savior,
so see you later,
or not either way it doesn’t matter,
we’ll all be gone in a hundred years no matter what,
but that doesn’t matter because there is no later,
there’s only this moment,
right here right now,
and the question is not if we die,
it’s if we live and if we live then how,
how do we live,
and what do we leave for our children’s kids,
well personally I leave these puzzle pieces,
in the form of poems such as this…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 10:55 AM UTC
On Friday mornings
You can find me
At my local coffee shop
Reading, writing, understanding
Myself.
It is how I unpack
All the baggage from
This week's long journey
Along the Camino of life.
It is the dusty old bunk bed
I rest my body upon.
It is where I am free
To dream and dream again.
Here I understand my limits
And regain my strength.
Although I love the scenic overlooks
And the one I travel with,
I need this time.
I don't quite understand why,
But without this
Momentary solitude,
Everything I've ever wanted
Does not feel
Quite like
Everything I've ever wanted.
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 11:44 AM UTC
Coffee is my life blood
A love affair as strong as I like it
Sweet as I want it
Shots if I'm tired
Weak when I'm wired
All a-bored the caffeine espresso
Oops, I mean express
Express my adoration
The sole foundation
To my motivation
To reach completion
And finish my work
Late at night
Early in the mourning
After the wake-ing
Lazy afternoons
And in the evening
I'll add my sweetening
Or keep it bitter
Like the glares
From my mother
As I fill up another
Cup of smooth, brown freedom
Add some nitro
When I'm dead
To refill my head
With the words that I said
A moment ago
I'll take it blow by blow
Shot by shot
Milligram by milligram
Of caffeine, coffee, constant
Reminder of how easy
It is to get rid
Of exhaustion
Even if only for a moment
Or a lunch break
Or a tired mourning
Or as I write this poem
I love you, coffee
In any way, shape, or form
That you may come
In any size or flavor
To get me to savor
The tang of the coffee
As long as I'm longing
For some more caffeine
My addiction isn't waning
As my love grows for you
With each sip I swallow
And each nickel I borrow
Just to buy
One more cup
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 10:18 AM UTC
this grind breathes a fist
of sublime roast allure
as the Nicaraguan Black Bull
surrenders it’s fat cojones
to the blade and the forced steam
fixes me, dilated,
but still only grooving at 70bpm
I feel so very disco
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 1:08 PM UTC
charcoal
oxblood
poppy
pomegranate
maroon
cranberry
cherry
creamsicle
orange soda
saffron
lemon
egg yolk
buttermilk
sunflower
olive
forest
lime
mint
ice
blueberry
royal blue
navy
bubblegum
fuschia
salmon
grape
lavender
wine
chocolate
espresso
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 2:07 AM UTC
Compliments to the baker
and so too my Barista
Smoothest crema on the tongue
juxtapose to lemon vapour.
Intense acute sensations
insist I close my eyes
Submit in rare humility
in awe of nature's true franchise.
Clarion note of citron zest
resounds on mellow creamy seas
Mediterranean sun distilled
now is witnessed here in me.
Tempered, rounded bitter hues
from Amazonian dark recess
waited aeons to infuse
and bring about this wanton bliss.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 9:59 AM UTC