I whistle when I blow on my tea
and drink cofee when I can't go to sleep.

I call and leave you messages:
that make me feel like I'm trying too hard,
(or not enough, or like I don't know how,
because I'm not sure what I want)
because I forget what I want to say
when I think about:

your smile
(what makes you smile?)

your blue eyes
(I'm so sick of hiding behind mine,
and I'm ready to see my reflection
and your reflection, in the same frame.
In nothing,[we say nothing], because it means nothing:
unless we want it to.)

your shaking hands
("I know I can do this."
"I know you can do this.")

your silence
(both bathing, both nervous,
both nothing. Because I can't speak for you.
I have trouble speaking to you.)


how's this [?] for,
I'm here.
I don't understand, but I want to.
I'm sorry.

- - - - - - - - - - - -
I haven't been myself for a long time,
but
I'm changing
and
my feelings are
too.

you've been in my dreams for longer than I'd like to admit
[I would if you asked me].
I'm ready to spill some secrets of my own
[because secrets have never been my strong point,
but honesty has, and that's what you deserve].

- - - - - - -
across the table conversation:
"it doesn't matter how many people read your poetry..."
                     "as long as it's written."

the question game: the life game: the experience: the answers.

after thoughts:
'but does it matter if the person you wrote it for
does?"

Imagine..

A cold windy day.
Your palms are shivering
Under the gloves you wear.
With you are your loved ones
Laughing with play..
You sit down on those chairs
Chatting away...
Or may be waiting for some one
Who has lost their way. .
You look around and smile
You have had a wonderful day
May be you drink cofee
To keep the chill astray.
You click a photo
To remember someday...

.
To remember someday. 😁

I have nothing

I sit here searching for words

Poetic thought's invade me

Smoke filled cofee house's

I stand with the open mic

I shall talk loud and proud

For all it's worth

Tonight is my night

You worked all day
and only now
can belief grace you,
whilst you drink  cofee.
Mealy mouthed is better at meal times
you squeeze the ketchup
to watch the splash
on your empty plate.
No explanation is offered
if its bravado its misunderstood.
Its just the exasperation unstated.

'

              I        wonder
              how would it
              taste        like
              if      I     pour
              your    words
              on my cofee
              because I've
              been tasting
              the bitter sugar
              you've   coated
              in    my   palate
              when          you
              embraced  me.

I want
to wear white flowing dresses
and crowns of flowers
as I float through a beautiful
meadow
I want you to see me
and sigh to yourself
how ethereal
I want
to wear a black leather jacket
and ripped jeans
I want to ride around
on a roaring motorcycle
through the streets
of a busy city
I want
to wear big glasses
and Dutch braids
sitting in a cofee shop
reading a book of poetry
or a classic novel
I want you to glance
at me through the dusty window
and fall in love
I want
to wear messy buns
and bright clothing
and blue overalls
forver stained with
acylic paint
I want my smile
and chirpy voice
to brighten someone's day
but I am
wearing blue flannel
gazing out my classroom window
messy hair
chewed sleeves
writing about the lives
that could only belong
to characters
in a story

SMOKING
SMOKING CIGARETTES
THINKING AND THINKING
MY EYES ARE NOT BLINKING ANYMORE
MY HAND ON MY PEN
THE OTHER HAND ON COFEE
I FEEL CAFFEINE IN MY BRAIN
SMOKES ALL AROUND AND TIME PAST ME
I'M LOOKING FOR A PLACE WHERE I CAN BE
MAYBE AN OAK TREE
OR
MAYBE A NIGHT FOR ME
SUDDENLY LOSS OF THOUGHT
I CANNOT BE
I'M NOT A GOD , A DEITY
CAUSE I'M ON THE STRINGS OF GOD
FROM WHERE I WANT TO BE FREE

** hum, ** hum, everything’s a humdrum
Need to be awake — for money’s sake.
Rake in money, need a coffee quake.
Sleepy in daytime,
Can’t sleep at nighttime.
Need to be normal —
But must live abnormal.
Oh lord give me a night time sleep
Save me from shame
Cuz I know everything’s in vain

Tossing, turning
thinking of all the bad choices.
and you are the voices
that tell me that i should have known better
the constant reminders,
and the torn up love letters.
The unread magazines that hide all of your drawings
the bitter black cofee
that picks me up in the mornings

How eerie it is?
One thinks it's a waste of time
Another as sacred
One longs to feel it
The other hate the feeling
Like a flower blooming
It dies one day
But we remember its colour
How ironic, we get it when we don't want
And lose it when we want It the most
Just because we crave for the cofee doesn't mean they crave it at the same time
And it's not only for coffee