"unroasted" poems
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.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 6:23 AM UTC
Where tenderness starts?
pink
soft
fluffy
as warm meatballs
where cruelty stops?
raw
sharp
******
as unroasted steak
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 3:49 PM UTC
Raw like an unroasted duck
I've stroked my luck
Beat off on destiny
Worked for every amenity
So I can kick back
Cut myself some slack
But I can't stop
Consistent as a perpetual clock
I've crawled and had my first steps
I've walked and flexed my biceps
Never backed down from a challenge
I can never make my bed to lay in
Always come to rest on a hinge
Never ink an appointment just push pin-
It on my calendar, never promise time
When I'll stop by for a corona and lime,
On the move I whiff the roses,
Let people enjoy me in small doses;
This is me; raw as can be in motion
Never gonna get cooked; free as killer whales in the ocean...
© okpoet
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 12:15 AM UTC
coffee substitute
unroasted seeds are toxic
K. Y. coffee trees
Jun 1, 2021
Jun 1, 2021 at 8:22 PM UTC