Poieinbroidery Jun 2014
You must be strong, intensified, like coffee.
When you pour coffee into your mouth, you become the coffee.
When the coffee goes to your brain, you increased the energy levels.
Coffee can be dark and brown, but it sure makes you happy.
Become like coffee my friend.
Inspired by doing my assignment till pass midnight and Bruce Lee: Be Water (not applicable to non-coffee drinker)

http://theunboundedspirit.com/she-tells-her-grandma-that-shes-just-been-cheated-on-so-grandma-tells-her-to-do-this/ Chance upon this story...
Eugene Melnyk Mar 2015
The coffee machine likes to tell my little cousins to curse at their parents.

         Then their parents always blame me.

         I swear it was the coffee machine.
         When was the last time I made coffee?
I had a tall mug of coffee this morning.
A Apr 2014
Let's sit around a campfire
And condemn coffee together
JWolfeB Jul 2014
Love, well love is like a good cup of coffee

We all want to drink it without getting burnt
David W Jul 2014



Elixir of life,
Potent force so thickly brewed,
Give me strength anew.
A Love Haiku
r0b0t Jul 2014
we have words we shared
and now
I cannot think
of coffee
or of mysteries
without you popping up between my eyes.
Christian Reid Oct 2014
Sweet and savory tides
Fill the self-perpetuating void
Spinning spokes of inspiration
Distillate of jungle and earth
Abigail Marie Apr 2014
You cause
a break inside my organs
Pointing out my flaws
our differences.
You are at peace.
I sit jittering, worrying
what everyone will think
of when I didn’t care
you made me laugh at
Changes.  You’re not right for me
Nor I for you, but I can’t help
What if?  Then I remember
you’re not what nor
Everything I want.

You are an intellectual snob you
have a depth about you
I would love to delve in,
a psychological study
that even the best critics would praise,
but I don’t want anyone else to have been there
or ever go there.
I cannot hold on to you
tear me away while
You’re haphazardly gluing us together
We’re a kindergarten art project
messy, trying to see
Beauty within the confusion,

You asked me
Where am I most at peace
4 years old.      
I could be anything
No fears
I hadn’t been ripped apart.
I was the girl that said everything,
until I felt the need to screen my thoughts,
like the filter you use to make your coffee
each morning.  I wish that’s where I was,
having you tell me
that you like your women like your coffee
Dark and bitter.

I can look past your chauvinistic ways,
not giving a damn about anyone.
You’re not really closed minded
You just act like it,
which annoys the hell out of me
Sometimes.  I wish life was simple.    
But then
I would never know your complexities nor
Feel the things you help me feel,
like hate for train whistles
or the burn of gin hitting my throat.
you introduce me to
offstage trumpets, bad movies.  Your politics,
your brown eyes      
and how you can hear frequencies
that most everyone else can’t.  I worry
that you hear
the fear in my voice and heartbreak
With every word I speak.

When were you going to tell me?
Or was that your plan all along?
To throw me out
like yesterday’s coffee grounds
or cut up scraps
Used and unwanted.
I wish I could tell you
to tell her you don’t want her
but me instead,
you don’t, I don’t want you to.
I want holding hands, laughter
comfort, personality, humor, intellect.
You want that plus things
I can’t give
But you always take.

You are your coffee
disgusting, caffeinated,
the only patch that helps is
comforting words you never spoke.
We had many conversations
of your desires, lusts, mistakes,
but I was burned,
by lies, distrust.
You left, like always,
a harsh, acidic aftertaste
on my tongue.
Matthew Harlovic Nov 2014
I drink coffee
                  She prefers tea
           together we make the perfect


© Matthew Harlovic
A poem in response to Maddie Henssler's poem "Happy buzz buzz".
American Spectre Apr 2016
A poem about coffee
How cheap
How over used
A poet speaking on coffee
Is like a politician making a promise

But this is where we live
Our inner self brought out by consuming
Coffee, booze, drugs, love....

Pick your poison and get writing.
xei Oct 2014
He stood fifty times his height,
his palms pressed against the glass
separating him from the road in their glamour;
blurred images of car in their splendor –
and there isn’t the
familiar scent of coffee –
I call this pandemonium.

Nothing beats a day in a café
redolent of the finest Arabica,
he’d inhale deeply and recall :
unroasted gives the sweetest scents
of blueberries –
roasted’s entirely different:
fruit, sugar, perfume –
They call this addiction.

Mnemonic – a wind chime
lost in the array of winds.
“You used to be my cup of tea –
I drink coffee now.”
These words slip out of his dry lips,
and a lone tear trickles down a milky cheek;

They all say if they’ve got love,
they don’t need money –

And he’d say if he’s got coffee,
he doesn’t need love –
He calls this heaven.
ejb Sep 2014
she's my morning coffee and my afternoon glass of iced tea
Ruthie Sep 2014
You taught me to have coffee without sugar.
Only now do I understand what that means.
Bitter lover.
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