"cappuccino" poems
Filled to the brim
Pizza Huts
Burning rubber
Dj''s club'n pub
Dancing duel
Free spirits and
**** riddled
Irie cast Bob's Inn
The beat go's on
Bright lights
Stripped trousers
Men on bikes
Ladies sell flowers
Restaurant's cappuccino
Long street lives
Cosmopolitan heaven
Twenty four seven
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 2:33 PM UTC
Smoke is filling my bones
The carcinogenic ghosts of an irish ancestory
At war with my german temper
Fueling the fire
To a heart that beats for belonging
Keeping me in step with the frostbitten sidewalks
Of a December morning
Lips moist from french vanilla cappuccino
And your chapstick
Smoke is filling my bones
I'm rolling through my own fingertips
Losing touch with my own reality
Wondering if my knuckles are white from clenched fists
Or the grip around your palm
Smoke is filling my bones
You don't smoke
Yet you fill your lungs with my exhale
Breathe me in
I'll house myself in your capillary beds
Where I'll tuck myself in for the night
Listening to what makes your heart tick
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 11:25 PM UTC
The question has to be asked, “How hard can it be,
for a man to get a decent cup of tea”?
How can people get something so simple so wrong?
A question that has vexed me for ever so long.
Let me be clear, lest there be any confusion
I’m not into tea leaves or these fancy new infusions
Nor herbal or green, earl grey or the rest
A good plain cup of tea is simply the best!
I wonder why it is that people bother to ask
When they will not put any real effort into the task
Yes they are careful to ask how you take your tea
But what you get is something different, entirely
If there is one thing that really gets to me
It is being made a half cup of tea
I always opt for a mug because there’s never enough in a cup
But for some reason they seem incapable of filling it up!
After just two mouthfuls, Surprise! It is all gone!
I hate always having to ask for another one
All the effort they made has gone to waste
The whole experience leaving a very bad taste.
Making tea is a formula, very hard to get wrong
why so often served weak when I always ask for strong?
A small drop of milk please, how hard can it be?
But I often get tea in my milk, not milk in my tea
I do like my sugar and to tell the truth
I do possess an awfully sweet tooth
“three and a bit” I say when they ask
But is stirring it such an impossible task?
How easy can it be? Just move the ****** spoon
You were just standing there, what else were you doing?
And to see all that sugar sitting there at the end
Would drive the most sane person round the bend
Another thing I get really mad about
Is when people do not take the teabag out
And though the cup appears to be full to the top
You take the bag out and watch the level drop
You might think it’s funny but it’s certainly not
What to do with a teabag that is dripping hot?
A cup of tea is supposed to help you relax
Not be the cause of minor heart attacks
And the biggest evil, by far the worst
Is those who serve tea, knowing the teabag has burst
At the end you get a mouthful of leaves and grit
I do love my tea but wonder if it is worth it.
It got to the stage where I considered drinking coffee
But I was bamboozled by the variety available to me
Mocha or latte, perhaps a frappuccino,
Or maybe an espresso or a cappuccino
No, the idea of drinking coffee just left me cold
all I really wanted was a cup of tea truth be told,
Though I have been accused of taking this issue too seriously
There is nothing in the world quite like…. a decent cup of Tea!
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 4:11 AM UTC
You are my morning cup of coffee,
My hot, steamy, caffeinated beverage made to wake me up,
I sip you,
Bitter,
Some sugar to cheer you up?
I dowse you in vanilla cream…
Any better my darling?
How come you are so nasty?
Not a morning person either?
Well I can't blame you,
Why do I think I drink so much of you?
Because I like you?
Well I do,sorta, the effects you bring to me are quite uplifting,
I shake,
Nervously,
Oh you startle me and delight me,
I feel comforted as you break open into my bloodstream,
My body on fire and ready to start my long and trying day,
Maybe we can get through this together,
Another cup is what I think I need of you,
Whether bitter or not we can make it through,
So my little cappuccino, so frothy and frilly,
I want you to know that I need you,
Like to start my morning, my every morning
Whether you are just black, or a venti latte with skim and carmel syrup stirred inside,
Or else I be stuck in bed all the time
There be no you to keep me awake or alive,
No reason to go outside and try,
No motivator, no mover, just me living my days on my own,
How terribly depressing I must add,
So I'll keep you company if you keep on stirring my brain with your caffeinated ways
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 10:55 AM UTC
three sets of withered, wrinkly hands
with chipped
tired
pale-pink nailpolish
flutter in the air,
describing.
three froofy perms
one browny-gray
one white
one salt and pepper
bob
jutting forward,
one
wobbles a little.
Grandma wears
a green-foam party hat
with a thin, white elastic band
that runs under her wrinkled chin
it sits atop her fuzzy perm
comically...
she smiles
at me.
"Ah! my cappuccino! you remembered i like it, didn't you?"
she chucks her great-granddaughter
under the chin,
grins
"oohh! look at these gardening gloves! Cidi! look at these gloves! i like the green ones."
she hands them to her white-haired sister
aunt cidi told me
this year she is
ninety-one
oh, and the gloves were really
blue.
aunt cidi
misses uncle harland
he was buried three or four years ago
in his uniform
i remember sitting next to him
at awkward family reunions
eating hotdogs
i never saw so much mustard
in my life
he could never hear me
when i tried to talk to him
but he smiled
anyway.
the talk turns serious
suddenly
over our black coffee
crossed legs
sweaters
and chocolate cake
grandma turns grim
in her lime-green party hat
"did you end up killing that trumpet vine in your yard, Jeanie?"
aunt jeanie's head wobbles a bit
she squints
wrinkles her nose
"i TRIED to!"
she scowls.
schemes of ******
plotted by three chunky-earringed
sweet
old ladies
who are a little late
for the 1940's
but never too late
for a handsome
soldier
"we're older..."
says aunt jeanie
"but not THAT old!"
they all
giggle.
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 7:42 PM UTC
when I was eight
I saw it
sat on it's swings
mother in the shops
only when
we tried to find it again
it wasn't there
or maybe
it just got lost
amidst
the concrete labyrinth
of the city
------
walking back
through there
waiting to vanish
along with it
like chalk dust
cappuccino in my hand
years later
I saw the ghost
of myself
so clearly
as if I could
reach out & touch her
------
better we had stayed ghosts
than ever entered the present
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 8:29 PM UTC
It’s always been just coffee kisses,
they’re all I have left to bring.
Overflowing mugs of latte love to spill on your hands, your lips, your heart,
Caffe mocha affection
laced with cappuccino hugs.
Iced or steaming, you decide.
Hazelnut, peppermint, French vanilla
(dulce de leche piquitos para ti)
warm espresso admiration,
americano dreams,
sugared and creamy to sweeten your tongue
served up with a coffee house smile—
bitterness hides in a candied disguise
but not today.
No sugar in the raw, no milk, no cream,
no sweet sticky flavors to trick your lovesick mind,
no fancy names to make you think it’s worth the cost.
Just pure, dark caffeine,
ground up this morning,
rich and smooth, but bitter and dry—
brewed with intention.
Just one coffee kiss, for you.
One plain black coffee kiss.
Take it or leave it.
Jan 16, 2012
Jan 16, 2012 at 11:09 PM UTC
Panic,
placed on the splintered edge of a dreaming mind,
I spit and sputtered, like the dying wings of
a dragonfly on a cold cappuccino morning.
She called me in the dark moody blue hue of early morning
as if to steal the broken moon from the attic in my chest.
So early I could hear the creak of spider legs
inching for a place of warmth.
Still in dream logic, she was crying so quietly
Melted spoons for a brain, I could only hear
the groans and pains of
the pet spiders on my ceiling,
their so cute and pissy in the morning.
She muffled "I need help"
I snapped awake as if a reflex to fight a charging train wreck.
This time advice came direct from my dream landscape the truth served dark black
and without the vanilla flavor.
I focus and get in gear "Hey girlie I am here, whats going on?"
An hour goes by a like a cat sneeze on a stormy day.
Again she laughs if I could see her, her smile would be wide tired and tear stained.
I laugh with her, while aching at the corner of my eyes " well hey try that tomorrow and if it doesn't work we can brainstorm to try something else. Call me tomorrow my sleepiness is welting my consciousness, I am not much use now except maybe for some mad hatter talk." A pause she sighs as if pushing of sleep. I wanted just one more smile to be sure" Stand strong if you can survive this hit the sky will clear for you. We'll strangle the rainmaker if we have to"
parting jokes and the call the ends, my moon back in my chest
content spiders basking in rays of light I can almost hear the hum of the morning sun.
I smile fading with the ceiling tucking me in, I can see her curled up with her stuffed animals half crying half terrified she falls to sleep drooling on her long time best friend
Mr finkers.
and
Finally the purr of happy spiders lulls be back to sleep.
Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 6:29 PM UTC
**We’re Gonna Need Some Sunglasses For This Mushroom Cloud
Gonna need some sunglasses for this one,
it’s 6AM I’m in LA it’s been a long night for sure,
just gotta get into that cafe get that cappuccino,
then get safely unnoticed and back to the idling car,
Jar,
of Flies,
sorry I’m not sorry,
that’s a bad reference to 1995,
bad because Jar of Flies was a different year,
different year different name,
’95 was self-titled,
‘Alice In Chains’,
remind me again,
what the heck we’re talking about,
this poem has no parameters,
it’s off course but still going along,
gonna need some sunglasses for this one,
like my glasses like I like my roast,
with my Valentino’s and dark cappuccino,
and you with your mimosa my dear Yoda let us toast,
“To the Next Episode!” let’s go,
No Dre though it’s more of a Good Day,
not to be rude to Ice Cube but I got ice cubes in my flute,
in perpetual motion from chronic transitions of change,
and when I say Change I’m not talking about Rock The Vote,
because we all see where voting got us,
now we got ‘ Donald Duck Mr. Talk A lot of Nonsense’,
we got that stone cold soviet ****** Kim Jong-un launching stunner missiles like Steve Austin,
dropping finishing moves ’Cold Stunning’ but instead of a drop kick he’s bomb launching,
we can’t even stop him as in Kim Jong-un with bad movies and meetings with Dennis Rodman,
Oh My God Son!
We’re really gonna need some sunglasses for this one,
have you ever seen the magnificence of an Atom Bomb,
a mushroom clouds of the most beautiful hues,
a moment of infinite Light just before the moment we’re all eternally gone…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆**
Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 1:29 AM UTC
Normally this place is colder than a penguin's ****
But Holy Satan, it's steaming right now
And I'm sure it's not my cappuccino
Or the fact that i'm wearing a hoodie,
Must be (it is) the movement of your buttocks
Over there on the little wooden stage
That nobody uses except for sitting and
playing with those lame monster cards.
You and your friend, yeah, that one.
The girl that was on the table behind mine,
sneaking a peek at my iPad as it streamed
The Twilight Zone, the episode with the piano
That reveals what people hide in their souls
**** lucky that isn't here or
They'd call the cops on me for
Like ****** assault or something),
Began twerking randomly when you called her
And are still going at it, as if you're telling her lessons,
And i'm sitting here pretending to be paying attention
To Rod Serling's monologue intro
When really i'm looking at that popping shake.
Holy Satan! "Control yourself" I think
"Oh what's that? I don't remember
Having a highlighter marker in my pants.
Oh **** that's not it, ******* it."
And now you're showing your friend
How to seductively move that stomach,
This is bad (no, it's perfect),
You pulling your shirt up a bit
Above the belly button and doing that.
And how come i'm the only one here
Noticing this (besides your friends at the table).
I know the place is mostly empty but
It's a small space, it's easy to see this,
Yet these idiots are drooling over their
New Pokemon game; what the ******* hell?
When you've got the greatest show on campus
Going on right ******* there! I don't get it.
Am I like a perv or something? (Yes).
To the girl with the goddess body
Twerking all nerdishly and awesome
In the coffee shop:
Don't stop,
******* it.
Holy Satan,
Don't ever stop!
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 6:47 PM UTC
My Journey
once young i believed of a world made of ice-cream and chocolates
i believed in air castles
i dreamed of the tooth fairy
friends was best friend forever for life
long hair was important, weight unimportant
dad and mum was super heroes
the world was at my feet waiting to be conquered
volcano's erupted
wars came and went
people died and were born
poverty came and went
governments changed
i grew up, the chocolate and ice cream melted
i woke up in a sticky mess
what happened
i forget the most important ingredient of all
god my father, my keeper, my salvation and joy
as it all came crashing down and storms whirled he held my hand
even when i questioned my creator and accused him of doing a bad job
his love and dedication never wavered
thank heaven for that mercy
i've searched my life time for unmovable inner peace and joy
though i was a bad made when i could not find it
now i know
money cant buy
only god the father can lead you to it
only the father can restore my air castles, my world of ice-cream, chocolates, cappuccino and balloons
i left he tooth fairy behind
i was blessed with new better friends
and my super hero's was re employed :)
i am truly living my dream without the crowd, competitiveness, chaos and speed of modern life
the future awaits
my captain is at the helm
what more can a girl ask for
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 5:38 AM UTC
Lanky guy in white shirt
long sleeves pulled up to his arms
with a cup of iced cappuccino in his grip
he traced for empty seats
our sight met each other
butterflies in me started dancing
tangled thoughts of mine
instantly fell away like rain
the first encounter in Starbucks
had our books of fate rewritten
The ocean eyes of his
looked into the hazel of mine
captivating my heart
as he flashed his 'to die for' smile
i was certain he's the one
the second he made me laugh
good morning messages
sleepy voiced night calls
twenty seven dates
our hearts grew fonder
It wasn't february fourteen
when he got down on one knee
trembling as he brought out the ring
saying four cliche words
on the memorable date
solemn vows are said
heartwarming tears are shed
We are now an us
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 11:48 AM UTC
In England brown birds make dusty circles on overcast days,
The ground blankets itself in moss and cappuccino leaves.
So when the sharp lemony sun fills the breeze with warmth,
And white cotton clouds punctuate the sky and my eyelids,
It feels like home
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 6:13 AM UTC
Roar Bean Got
Chosen
Sipping on taste
never forgotten
So miraculous power
rising.
Been told so
Boldly,
her uniqueness
Only it's mode of
attachment
Sips up on you like a
Goddess
in fragments
Her spell of the blend,
Coffee lips he was sold
kissed her hand
Mystical bow
Thought's love-arrowed
Through "Hearts" Wowed
All her poem's
Quick thinking
The (Quickie) hour?
Coffee lips ******* the
tower money showered
Home-body
Coffee__steamy
he raided my book
Crystal ball showed me,
"Everyone"
Oh! my he dated
(Holy-Coffee)
My Ego got inflated
Digging gold dreamily
Flower Lily mated and
seeded
Please "Lips" dream on
Opening up the invitation
Coffee? Me or You
Masquerade flower's brocade
Spellbound red poppy I fooled you
Coffee says cheesecake
Mystical play awake
Chosen One Bean
Clean Godly-scent
Cat nine rumor years.
coffee live's pretend
Million in one tear's
gallivant super stirred
Small World Cafe
Big University Princeton NJ.
Mister Mystical laptop taking
a sip New Jersey
The kaleidoscope Blueberry
Go Girl Godiva-raspberry
Coffee lip me
Not over my lip's
He takes another sip
Carmello, He's the
good fellow
Italian mob cappuccino
Leave the Cannoli
Take the gun movie set
"Tarantino"
Here's his handle I'm his
Secret Gun-it lips
I told you
my secret Streaming
play scout
The smell of his aura cup
In his eye's only James
No games just coffee?
Bonds
What about me?
Her chosen bean
Luna blue blueberry
His sugar flight
"Shimmering Chandeliers"
Hello musketeer's fight
Mystical Coffee well suited
BMW car's
Wedding Bellringer
We are destined to star is born
Judy my Mom the singer.
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 9:44 AM UTC
Every good thing shall happen...
like Friday nights and party rush
surprise calls from a long-time crush
auburn leaves and a cup of tea
cozy couch and a good movie
a sweet embrace, granted wishes
locked up hands, friendly kisses
perfect music, fireworks galore
passionate poetry, books in store
skinny-dipping, pineapple juice
mountaineering, romantic cruise
stick-it notes and scented letters
white rose petals and silver glitters
dusty slip-on and faded pantaloons
sweetened berries and tasty prunes
smooth raps and slow rock hits
magnetic charm and awesome wits
11:11 verses and chicken bones
starry night skies, pebbles and stones
a perfect score, crispy pizza crust
locks and highlights, passionate lust
skirts and pumps, pictures of us
Halloween treats and wedding fuss
hot cappuccino, jam and jelly
first paycheck, winning the lottery
chocolate mousse, ice cold drinks
ocean waves, seductive winks
silk and laces, laughs after cries
cool car drifting and belly butterflies
left hand scribbles, messy hair buns
Oakley goggles and water guns
funny jokes, late night talks
rainy days, twilight walks
flickering lights, vintage cars
logs in swamps and monkey bars
a hopeful daybreak, latte aroma
fogged up glasses, squeaky veranda
carnation in bloom, warm summer breeze
slow ********** trimmed cypress trees
naughty kiddie play, blindfolds and tricks
mistletoe and acorns, fresh and fancy kicks
baked salmons and grilled corn
ending fights and a newborn
free-verse poetry, an orchestral song
a stranger's smile, a dancing throng
finishing a novel, Luna's glow
binding friendships, December snow
but the best thing for me, I'd like you to know
is to tell you finally that I Love You So.
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 11:41 PM UTC
Sunday-empty Auckland my pre-breakfast escape,
Sheep-spotted mountains in early morning mist,
Whangarei marina for a cauldron of cappuccino.
Shop of metal sheep starts a day of Kiwi weirdness,
Of customer requesting glassblowing lessons, and
“All Blacks” silk boxers, unworn by players I hope.
Driving to Dargaville for Mr. M. Ujdur museum treat,
That late gum-digging, Esperanto teaching, vintner.
Beside a colossal collection of accordions with muzak,
Playing an instrument-impossible Whiter Shade of Pale,
Plus coins and buttons and stamps and Scotsmen,
Left feeling stunned, like I was tripping on acid.
The possum cull with prizes seemed almost normal.
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 9:29 AM UTC
The Vanilla Bean Frappuccino,
who brings chills down my spine every time.
Sweet on the inside, cold-hearted on the outside,
Especially when he leaves me high and dry
in the morning unexpectedly.
He’ll remind me that I’m alive,
And make me feel Zen for a split second,
Then he splits in a second.
Or
The Caramel Macchiato,
Tall with a sophisticated smile
And unrealistically hazel eyes
That read “bello” around his irises.
With a shot of expression—
He’s never afraid to speak how he feels.
But that’s just the Italian in him.
Or
The Pumpkin Spice Latte,
The most popular guy.
He’ll warm me up when I’m cold;
And make me feel like I’m his only one,
He’ll tell me everything I want to hear,
Then he’ll disappear without a sign—
At least until the next year,
Only to continue the same cycle over again.
Or
The Cappuccino,
He’s got a strong mind
like those French roast blends
With a secret soft side.
He speaks with fluidity and is
As charismatic as the rest.
He’s a morning person nonetheless,
And won’t leave me loveless
In the sheets like Mr. Vanilla Bean sometimes does.
Or
The Teavana Chai Tea Latte
He sounds fancy, does he not?
He’s different to say the least,
Layered with many spices,
And from cinnamon trees,
He’s warm-hearted, yet feisty.
Gentle, yet fatuously energetic.
Soft spoken, yet bold,
He doesn’t have to do much
To have me sold to his trance.
Now for me to decide what I want
As more people file in, deliberating the same
Line up as I, but they have more to
Choose from.
Perhaps I should loosen up some, and go
With last one.
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 7:37 PM UTC
I saw you at the subway the other day
You were drinking hot chocolate
I thought about asking you for a sip
but on second thought I didn't want to burn my tongue
I chased you up the stairs and outside
I got into a taxi cab
I didn't want to see you, you were looking good
I wanted to cool off and take some time out of the busy day
I heard a knock on my door, my door
Who was there?
What are you doing here?
I'm really not sure you should be here right now
Because I'm going. It's getting a little pricey
that you should be in Sweden, my friend
because it's the only place for you
I hear they have really nice gear of sorts there.
You should be in Sweden, my friend.
Yeah, you should be in Sweden.
Get yourself to Sweden
I'll tell you what we can do
You're not bent on calling me
and we'll do lunch, I'm sure.
Your fax machine can fax my bags
and it will get in touch with your answering machine's secretary.
Your hair doesn't shine like it used to.
You're not using that conditioner I gave you last year for your birthday.
It was salon selected. I thought you would like it.
And now I'm so scared. I'm pale as white.
I would invite you to sit but I didn't want you to ruin my new sofa.
I've felt this too many times.
I just got myself back up the nerve to say, the nerve
that you should be in Sweden, my friend.
What are you doing here?
You should be in Sweden.
You can ski when you're there.
You should be in Sweden, my friend.
Yeah, get yourself to Sweden.
I don't care how you do it.
Just go to Sweden. Go to Sweden.
I'll tell you what we can do.
You're not bent on calling me,
but we'll do lunch, I'm sure.
Your fax machine can fax me back
and get in touch with my cappuccino maker.
You're not bent on calling me,
and we'll talk for a while, I'm sure.
You can get back my postcard machine
and it'll get in touch with your answering machine's secretary.
May 15, 2012
May 15, 2012 at 5:16 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
Jamming jellyfish
Top-Me
((Giddy App Seahorse))
The horseradish on
my lap______
The jolly Jelly
Gefilte Fish
Little help from my friends
How we click the laptop
One dent to Deceive me
The Rock and Rolling
Stomach his smoke went
Like *** Cheese)
he leaves me
The spicy tongue map
Z-Top Zany Chilli Pepper____
your # tap dance tap
Italian top of
the cheese designer skirt
The outskirts of Naples
Her sweet dimples, please
The Islands of Sicily
So many Cheese forms
Terms of Endearment
Mama Mia Murano-Positano
Her lips of Romano Cheese
(To Top Me) Challenge me
Cheese doesn't mix
with cappuccino,
she's the Capri
Ala Denti
Cheese Wiz chair
Mediterranean Wines
Bear men doing low
sips of time
the grisly(Z) pour
The car smelled like
Flight (Top Me) Swiss air
Meet Dominique
How it went La Cirque
Anti Christ Devil Red-bed
cheese mystique
SOS to their notes
PS the junk car in
Midas the makeover
Make-up artist counter
Clinique
I could paint over your hood
Creamy mind put at ease
He's so displeased
New castle disease
Mingling social disease
She's so infectious
ZZ- Top me rock me
Eyes bloodshot you got me
And nevertheless
With twelve and V
V- Vamps tramps
and 14 karats
The French Lieutenant
Mistress Brie with heavy
bite teeth like garnets
Cher turning back time
The burlesque striptease
Come back little Sheba
Z Top Queen of Sheba
I know it's coming soon____?
All Tight claustrophobic
The tight squeeze
Him speaking
Mandarin Oranges
The British Colony
Unique Chinese languages
Her hills, San Francisco
Jack Nicholson
Comedy of China town
The American Women
Smile cheese at the Disco
The food Cantonese
style
Z muscles Hercules
Joan Rivers
Fashion Police
The Cheese of Portuguese
Its the meat market
With his nifty thrifty Neice
All Socrates
(Gromet and Cheese)
Those Brooklyn
workers
The Falcon Matese____*
More cheese Z-Top
Who could ever top
The string cheese
Silken strings became
to rest, I rest my cheese
What cheese fascinates you
Tell me?
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 9:12 AM UTC
under the rain washed
sunny heavens
the heavens are as clean
as a whistle!
lolling in
the lawn
chair
sipping cappuccino
reading
a love story
enjoying
sensual serenity!
Sep 17, 2021
Sep 17, 2021 at 9:54 PM UTC
Any kind you like
Black or white
Dark or light
Individually right
Milky, frothy
Extra shot of coffee
Rich full blended
Skinny, slender
Enjoy its splendour
Chocolate coated
Caramel toasted
Full and roasted
Made to measure
For your pleasure
Espresso shocker
Latte, mocha
Cappuccino takers
Coffee makers
Based on personal tasters
Multi-million invention
Saturated intention
On every street corner
Made to order
Coffee
Jul 27, 2012
Jul 27, 2012 at 9:41 AM UTC
No it isn't a crazy star
Nor it's very far
It's a coffee shop that I like to visit
Once a week or more
It's across the street from Starbucks
And it beats it by far
The service is crazily great
Just like the name suggests
Not one time I heard one argue
or complain about the trade
I personally know the owner
But so does everyone here
Because he is so very
generous and sincere
I really recommend his coffee
But his cappuccino is outstanding
If you ever come to Washington, DC
Remember to find this place please!!!*
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 3:32 PM UTC
Sanay na sa tapang ng kape
Mapa-barako, cappuccino, espresso
Instant coffee, iced coffee o galing
Man yan sa vendo machine.
Wala nang bisa ang caffeine
Di na ramdam ang nerbyos,
Maski ang biglaang palpitations.
At hindi kompleto ang mga gabi
Kung walang ang init, mula sa
Tasang tangan, upang ibsan ang ginaw.
Saksi sa matang puyat
Sa mga gabing walang inspirasyon
Sa tuwing nagsusulat
Sapagkat ngayong gabi ay iba na
Ang dahilan ng patuloy na pagdilat
Di na kape ang dahilan ng kaba,
Ng pagbilis ng puso at paghinga.
Marahil nga ay mas malakas ang tama nya.
Dahilang kasabay ng pagkataranta
Ay ang tulo ng pawis mula sa likod ng tainga.
Sya na rin ang isinisigaw,
Sa bawat tintang ipinahid
Na nilangkapan ng maliliit na patak ng kape
Na nagmamantsa sa sinintang pahina.
Ang bawat piyesa ay may ibang kulay na.
Hindi pala kape ang gigising sa diwa,
At hindi rin ito ang magiging dahilan
Ng pagkabalisa, Sapagkat narito ka
Ikaw na nagbigay ng malakas na tama
Tamang kung minsan ay di na pala tama.
Mar 10, 2021
Mar 10, 2021 at 10:42 AM UTC
my world has many colors like the prism;
the blue hues of glistening waters of greece
against the white stucco adobes.
dancing tap shoes of flamencos
while visiting in spain.
autumn hues of russian reds, gold, cobalt, greens, oranges and black co-mingling.
asian tastes of polynesian spices in the philippines.
safaris in africa witnessing the awesomeness
of massive mammals.
sophistication from the streets of champ elysees, sipping cappuccino
and i will have some creme brulee please.
or perhaps go to italy and sit on the spanish steps
with a cup of expresso. i will take along a cannoli
and count the steps.
while back at home reminiscing over a cup of joe
with a friend in tucson arizona.
after exchanging our love for art
i will read my mail from friends afar;
the outback to talk about the love
pocketed in the kangaroo’s pouch and discover
new zealand, the unfamiliar territory.
we share our secrets who have been there.
reading beautiful poetry like never before.
all the while being reminded
i have been blessed by the HOLY ONE.
you see my friends, my world has forever changed
since i have met all of you.
getting up each day having my coffee
welcoming me to another day with my friends
from the east, west, north and south.
upon dusk we say so long, see you soon.~~by lorilynn
copyright*lorilynn 2010
Sep 17, 2010
Sep 17, 2010 at 8:28 PM UTC