Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"matcha" poems
not many people favor the flavor of the green tea latte sweet from the start with a slight bitter aftertaste as the matcha on your tongue fades i remember the time we went to your favorite cafe and you commented on how your green tea latte was a little sweeter than the usual and now i comment how it is a little more bitter compared to when i had it with you the green tea latte is my memory of you sweet—for every time we sat in that same spot sipping the warm green drink and bitter— for the moment i drank my green tea latte alone
0
Oct 24, 2016
Oct 24, 2016 at 10:39 AM UTC
green tea latte
Detox yourself of impurities. Box away those pretty poisons polluting your soul. Matcha tea will only help so much. Matching the gentle touch once felt but have since melted away. Got to deal with the cards that have been dealt today But what if, I am less than an ace? What if, I am dead? Then I am nothing. Or is that just the toxic thoughts talking? It's hard to tell these days.
0
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 6:59 PM UTC
Chronic Toxicity
*** hot water, whisking, smoothly blended, tea bowl, spring, tea garden, thick, quiet.
0
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 9:29 AM UTC
Spiritual Matcha
Block I. I came to see you yesterday Just what I was hoping for You haven't changed a bit You still taste Like iced matcha green tea But today Your trickle is just about to start And your iced matcha green tea Now warming up Since you betrayed me Turning hot For another woman Her name is Rain So I'm leaving you You will always be real to me But I've got something else To replace you for now His name is Cape Just like you A long story And a desirous body
0
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 10:11 PM UTC
Untitled
Jar of my teeth Sitting on the windowsill Where I sip matcha tea Rejuvenate maturity Hear Him rap the door Tok tik tok Sixth time this week Why am I in shock? Thrives off fossils like me, Dust in the crevices Paper for skin For thirty years Dead ******** I let Him in Skulks around the place Morbid clothes and beard But a welcoming face. I sip matcha tea Last drop in my cup Shakes his head in pity Pouring new life On my infancy Never any luck, Offers me lily tea Resist no more Brews life inside of me Fills my lungs with streams Freeing to not breathe
0
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 8:58 PM UTC
Matcha Tea
I lived my life knowing: That love is blind That love won't make you fine That love is merely just distracting But alas here I am I stand trial All in the face of love A victim of love But with no hint of denial It is real yes, oh it is such heaven on earth This love I felt, I feel for real You made it happen, made me feel What a lovely day everyday it has been Everyday you are my cup of tea Everyday I think of you and me Everyday there are no worries Everyday you are my peace, my whole delight Your hug that i always long for Each day and each night You give me your favorite songs How i long for you, all of the time Though with every too much sunshine There is a little rain, a downpour Oh what a time to be alive It all went wet, it rained, it poured But do always remember my love There's no rainbow without a little rain Even if the morrow is barren of promises Nothing shall forestall my return I'll always bring you with me Remember oh my dear love As green as the grass, as blue as the sky You'll always be my green tea, my hug in a cup I'll wait for you in a café some day And some day we'll together drink That matcha that serves as a memory of I and thee A matcha of you and me
0
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 9:42 PM UTC
Matcha
warm weathers with a warmer heart: i stretched out my arms and embraced her with all i am. this girl threw an ocean of words, of images, of emotions, and even of silence at me over a mango shake, kimchi fishcake, and a pair of hot matcha lattes. she challenged me to a doodle dare when i told her i don't draw humanity, as much as i wanted to draw her right there on the spot. let's draw those people on that side of the cafe ah, a people-watching activity! just our kind of hobby that immerses us within society while being in our own little world! i noticed she draws people first then the background according to the proportions of the persons; yes, a people-watcher observing another people-watcher unlike me who starts off with the walls and furniture of the space. she drew the ovals for body proportions; her pencil marks done gently, focused and magnified, much like how she holds herself up. thus we were satisfied with unfinished sketches and incomplete acapella song covers; and it definitely was a finished day– complete with her presence, photographs taken with cameras and our memory's eyes, inside jokes about boys and talks about life outside. the sun is getting lower as the hour hand is getting higher. Time continues but we paused. So I'm up for another round with you, Lou.
0
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 8:00 AM UTC
louise - 170810
First get out the jar Mix the matcha and water And shake it real hard Fill the jar with ice Now it's time to add the milk Shake and shake and taste The color is good I hope the milk's not too strong I added too much Again? ********* I always add too much milk Matcha flavored milk Still, I will drink it It's better than if it was plain Next time for sure though
0
Mar 28, 2020
Mar 28, 2020 at 3:06 PM UTC
Haikus About Making Matcha Lattes
Being optimistic words hitting chords drowning   Overboard smooth sailing      Poetic-  words     Reassuring*   believing*   Time moves on being Hopeful*    Fresh start makeup Achieving    Tea-  Rose colored      Big city- crowded    Scattered-love tainted But he has you in his arms   Before you fainted       Animation   Love 3D promising Relationships Can be poisoning   Missing family     Divineness     Ma- Ma Da Da Smile when your heart is aching I Gotcha  mind and body      What's inside two hearts beat or breaking       I  Gotcha! Love in the making       Oh! Susanna Won't you play a beat Banjo on his knee Politician I -Gotcha Ha -ha Crimes and leaks New technology Longevity - Global Mentality Longevity A fake world or true- reality *       *       *     I- Gotcha Now! give me Starbucks Matcha- Latte
0
Jun 25, 2023
Jun 25, 2023 at 8:07 AM UTC
Gotcha
Let's do things out of randomness, Without a reason. Let’s wake up at 7am, and join the grandparents at tai chi. Let’s go to animal shelters and volunteer, Let’s wake up at 4am, and go to the nearest convenient store, just to have our favourite matcha ice cream. Let's do us.
0
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 6:20 AM UTC
Let's do us.
This time last year, it was cloudy as today. But I was about to meet you at Vigilante. It was not raining, I wore my favorite blouse and my hear was beating so fast. We took the porch seats, we talked as I got lost in your hazel green eyes. Yeah we should go to the aquarium you said. I had matcha and you had latte, you and your orioles cap. We talked about the future  the presence and the past. Now we are part of each other's past. You called me a romantic and yes I am. That's why I'm writing again here. In April we will go the the ball game and celebrate your birthday. But when can I show you this poem, in a month or a year?
0
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 9:30 PM UTC
1/2/2016 (Jake)
Friday, at the Café With iced matcha latte and things she didn't want to say What will fill the void? In the midst of the crowd, you are the one that I avoid.
0
Mar 21, 2025
Mar 21, 2025 at 4:51 AM UTC
In the midst
Am I doing it right? I took a bath with eight capfuls of eucalyptus bubble soap Instead of the recommended four. I ran the water fever hot. I wonder how long that feeling will last on my skin. It doesn’t last long. The next day, I read a poem about this bath To my creative writing class. Call that vulnerability. Gold star for me and my vulnerability. I make tea with my vulnerability, And sometimes I let other people sniff the fumes— Raspberry-pomegranate-flavored-matcha-green— But I never make a full *** Because I guess I don’t want anyone else to burn their tongues on my scalding vulnerability. They like my poem, I think. I don’t really listen to their response, Am glad when it’s over. I answer their questions about it without Really answering their questions. I don’t think they notice. As for me, I absorb their comments like vitamins And, as such, the excess is filtered out In the middle of the night when I’m trying to sleep. When I do sleep, I try badly to stay awake, When I must sleep, I am kept awake by various physical sensations, Which I may complain about on Twitter (Gold star for my vulnerability) But maybe not, because I’m trying to detox, And by that I mean I’ll stare At Duolingo, the Atlantic, YouTube and Netflix, Instead of Twitter, Instagram, Tik Tok and Snapchat, And when I talk about it to my friends, I feel the need to compare myself to an addict in rehab to get over heroine. Because, in my mind, they are the same thing. Call that empathy. Gold star for me and my empathy. Am I doing it right yet? This poem makes me feel good, When I write something that makes me feel good, I feel as though I could be talented. But do I like myself for it? If I get too cocky I might have to cut my own **** off, Cut myself down to size. But it’s no use, my ego haunts me Like a bad childhood memory. I didn’t feel guilt for the first time until I was fifteen. It took that long To feel sorry for pruning the leaves on my relationships, until the plants disappeared And I forgot what species they were. Even now that I have friends I can admire, Can I be trusted not to rate myself more highly? Call that self-confidence. Goldstar for me and my self-confidence. When I get home from work, I take another bath, hotter than before, with wine. The wine and the heat make me dizzy, which is good Because I can’t fall asleep unless I’m dizzy. But later I will not be able to sleep because this is my third hot bath in a row, it’s winter, and my skin is so dry that it will itch and burn As if every fabric I touch were made of fire ants. But for now I am comforted. Call that self-care. Gold star for my self-care. More of a participation trophy, really.
0
Aug 5, 2020
Aug 5, 2020 at 8:36 PM UTC
Self, Care
Am I doing it right? I took a bath with eight capfuls of eucalyptus bubble soap Instead of the recommended four. I ran the water fever hot. I wonder how long that feeling will last on my skin. It doesn’t last long. The next day, I read a poem about this bath To my creative writing class. Call that vulnerability. Gold star for me and my vulnerability. I make tea with my vulnerability, And sometimes I let other people sniff the fumes— Raspberry-pomegranate-flavored-matcha-green— But I never make a full *** Because I guess I don’t want anyone else to burn their tongues on my scalding vulnerability. They like my poem, I think. I don’t really listen to their response, Am glad when it’s over. I answer their questions about it without Really answering their questions. I don’t think they notice. As for me, I absorb their comments like vitamins And, as such, the excess is filtered out In the middle of the night when I’m trying to sleep. When I do sleep, I try badly to stay awake, When I must sleep, I am kept awake by various physical sensations, Which I may complain about on Twitter (Gold star for my vulnerability) But maybe not, because I’m trying to detox, And by that I mean I’ll stare At Duolingo, the Atlantic, YouTube and Netflix, Instead of Twitter, Instagram, Tik Tok and Snapchat, And when I talk about it to my friends, I feel the need to compare myself to an addict in rehab to get over heroine. Because, in my mind, they are the same thing. Call that empathy. Gold star for me and my empathy. Am I doing it right yet? This poem makes me feel good, When I write something that makes me feel good, I feel as though I could be talented. But do I like myself for it? If I get too cocky I might have to cut my own **** off, Cut myself down to size. But it’s no use, my ego haunts me Like a bad childhood memory. I didn’t feel guilt for the first time until I was fifteen. It took that long To feel sorry for pruning the leaves on my relationships, until the plants disappeared And I forgot what species they were. Even now that I have friends I can admire, Can I be trusted not to rate myself more highly? Call that self-confidence. Goldstar for me and my self-confidence. When I get home from work, I take another bath, hotter than before, with wine. The wine and the heat make me dizzy, which is good Because I can’t fall asleep unless I’m dizzy. But later I will not be able to sleep because this is my third hot bath in a row, it’s winter, and my skin is so dry that it will itch and burn As if every fabric I touch were made of fire ants. But for now I am comforted. Call that self-care. Gold star for my self-care. More of a participation trophy, really.
Continue reading...
71
i sit in the coffee shop writing poetry on a brown napkin with a purple gel pen remembering how my life was saved by a cup of tea beckoning me out of my messy bed out of my summer-sad head and into the real world with all its simple beauty earthy warm green tea but also the hydrangeas in bloom on the way home and the little ladybug hitching a ride on my shoe
0
Dec 8, 2022
Dec 8, 2022 at 1:48 PM UTC
matcha tea on a monday
You’re the matcha latte I drink in the afternoon A sweet smile with a bitter aftertaste Too nice to be rude to me directly I become lost in the misdirection You’re the matcha latte I drink in the afternoon I like it warm but you let it go cold And that’s not what I asked for Yet you keep me on hold You’re the matcha latte I drink in the afternoon It’s a waste of money and time But it’s something to do While I’m waiting in line
0
Jun 11, 2019
Jun 11, 2019 at 5:38 PM UTC
Untitled
when people said “i love you” but i said, “i adore him to the point i thank him for existing” when people said "i love you" but i said, "i would recognise his odor in thousands of crowd" when people said "i love you" but i said, "he is the first thing that i mention through my prayers" when people said "i love you" but i said, "my brain refuses to think about anything but you" when people said "i love you" but i said, "it's crazy how my mind leads to you to every love song that is playing" when people said "i love you" but i said, "he is the first thing i reminisce to every matcha store i stumbled upon" when people said "i love you" but i said, "i would spot his footsteps in a muddy dark forest" when people said "i love you" but i said, "i learn how to cook for him where these dishes are crafted with love" when people said "i love you" but i said, "i have been adjusted to be all ears for him when the whole world turned him down" when people said "i love you" but i said, "i don't want him to translate. i would speak his language, i want learn the language of his soul"
0
Aug 4, 2024
Aug 4, 2024 at 5:23 AM UTC
I refuse to say I love you.
under your toes there's crushed dandelions, and soft, wet grass. the storm clouds swirl, and your pink drink fizzes near my hip. you're lying flat on your back, next to my side. extended, lithe, pasty skin, and wearing your favorite sunglasses. it's not sunny, but 'it's too bright.' you point at the glasses sliding on your nose, nails white, unlike the clouds in the sky. you giggle, hoist yourself up, and curl in. pretzel-like, wrapped up, positioned right beside me. your cat stares at us from the inside, and i could start to wonder what that must feel like, but you're humming a song i faintly recognize. i lift the fizzy drink to my lips, and sip. a twisted grin forms on your lips. 'you always take what isn't yours, princess.' maybe you're wrong though. maybe i never take enough. you took a photo of me a while ago, under a willow tree, i'm all dimples and orange light leaks. a fragment of who i want to be captured by you. you took that photo from me. for a fact, it's lost in a pile, in your shoebox, of what you miss or what you never want to see. let me get this straight: i never liked him, i loved you. those iced matcha lattes, scattered laughter, angry outbursts followed by oceans poseidon could not fathom. i don't hold grudges, but you do. i'll never get you back, because someone else has filled in your softer pieces. filled in places where i carelessly splattered paint, in hopes you could pick out colors and make something beautiful. i can almost hear your voice, 'god, she was a mess. all i have left is a broken heart.' i might write about you forever, i might give up, it's pointless to romanticize sunglasses and your pointed remarks. i'll stop. just know, i think about that day a lot. your cat watching, your band t shirt, the lime green vans, fizzy drink at my hip, scattered storms. or the time you drew a smiley face on a sandwich with mustard, or when we stole your dad's whiskey, and i finally melted into your mouth. and yes, now, i'll officially say, i took too much. goodbye, my sweetest love.
0
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 5:47 PM UTC
thank you for the summer solstice
under your toes there's crushed dandelions, and soft, wet grass. the storm clouds swirl, and your pink drink fizzes near my hip. you're lying flat on your back, next to my side. extended, lithe, pasty skin, and wearing your favorite sunglasses. it's not sunny, but 'it's too bright.' you point at the glasses sliding on your nose, nails white, unlike the clouds in the sky. you giggle, hoist yourself up, and curl in. pretzel-like, wrapped up, positioned right beside me. your cat stares at us from the inside, and i could start to wonder what that must feel like, but you're humming a song i faintly recognize. i lift the fizzy drink to my lips, and sip. a twisted grin forms on your lips. 'you always take what isn't yours, princess.' maybe you're wrong though. maybe i never take enough. you took a photo of me a while ago, under a willow tree, i'm all dimples and orange light leaks. a fragment of who i want to be captured by you. you took that photo from me. for a fact, it's lost in a pile, in your shoebox, of what you miss or what you never want to see. let me get this straight: i never liked him, i loved you. those iced matcha lattes, scattered laughter, angry outbursts followed by oceans poseidon could not fathom. i don't hold grudges, but you do. i'll never get you back, because someone else has filled in your softer pieces. filled in places where i carelessly splattered paint, in hopes you could pick out colors and make something beautiful. i can almost hear your voice, 'god, she was a mess. all i have left is a broken heart.' i might write about you forever, i might give up, it's pointless to romanticize sunglasses and your pointed remarks. i'll stop. just know, i think about that day a lot. your cat watching, your band t shirt, the lime green vans, fizzy drink at my hip, scattered storms. or the time you drew a smiley face on a sandwich with mustard, or when we stole your dad's whiskey, and i finally melted into your mouth. and yes, now, i'll officially say, i took too much. goodbye, my sweetest love.
Continue reading...
21
I miss walking to your car Wildly undressed For the weather As always Yet radiant in the snow Always scanning the backs of cars For your Illinois plate Reminded every time That you’re a city kid Probably much too cool for me You step outside your car Even though it’s cold And you’re stepping into slush The crud that cakes up in the parking lot I miss seeing your face That catlike smile As I speed walk across asphalt Smiling myself Hard enough to make my cheeks sore But there’s not a care in the world When I crash into your arms The air is cold but you are warm My heart gets wrapped up In a tight cocoon of you Then we break and you say We should get in your car It’s cold and I left my coat again Then I’m in your passenger seat You’re offering me matcha candy Or maybe just looking at me With those bedroom eyes Dark behind your glasses Yet lit up all the same I miss that sweet first kiss The soft heat of your lips Pressed up against mine Gentle and hungry A restrained fever of want Given away by your hand on my cheek Thumb tracing across my lips when you pull back Gazing at me like I’m something To be savored Cherished and mouthed at The tender want in your eyes That I miss The moment you look away
0
Jan 13, 2023
Jan 13, 2023 at 11:38 PM UTC
Things That I Miss
let’s climb the roof and watch the sunrise together he smiled and didn’t forget the coffee or doughnuts let’s go to the beach in our bathing suits, sun kissed glow and wine coolers he nodded in agreement and went to start the car let’s eat pancakes lathered in maple syrup and hot butter he walked out wearing pj’s let’s ride all the roller coasters and munch on candied apples he was the first one in line let’s have chinese on the hood of the car because the day was a bad one he made sure i had room for matcha mochi ice-cream in the end let’s go to the nearest museum on a Sunday morning he didn’t complain he had bought them the night before let’s have brunch downtown before anyone wakes up he brought me to a place where omelettes came in the shape of hearts let’s watch Sinister on a Friday night minutes before midnight rolls around he held my hand throughout the whole thing let’s head out and have a spa day he agreed to a ****** and pedicure let’s stay at home, bake sweets and talk by the fire he taught me the secret to his chunky chocolate chip cookies let’s sit on the porch and count the stars he held me tight and told me that i looked beautiful let’s promise to love, care, cherish and trust each other forever he said i smiled and knew i had met the one. A.
0
Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 8:34 AM UTC
let us
I still daydream about you, and I feel my soul jump for JOY from country to country to chase you. The smile you put on my face as wide as the space between us when we are not together. I can still feel this JOY through that space- it fills me up like a cup of matcha on all those nippy nights without you. What a miracle it was to have crossed paths with you- a bright star in what was an empty void.
0
Aug 27, 2022
Aug 27, 2022 at 4:41 AM UTC
JOY