Looking The Part

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Wonder the curling fingertips,

the adamant task

drawing locks

security

in the presence of life.

 

Check austere provisions,

a smooth swiff,

filling jars,

a man pacing the room,

always in a wonder of how.

 

A picture of human interaction

“I’m going solo”

spoke a gentleman java guide,

off to the focal point

where lives intermingle alone.

 

Yet, interaction, a game,

or is it truth

that sets aside

an intellect

beyond the comfort zone.

 

The breeze outside

wafting wide open screen,

leaves, dance in

unison

the humanity of life.

 

Would one wonder,

if the hand swiping a sallow

brow

similar to their own,

a night before when alone.

 

A line of laptops

give quiet indication

we have all been here

before,

in certain wander we atone.

 

Sweet is the humanity

of discrete passion

for the moment,

the privacy

yet Vicinity wills love.

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Shaded Tone

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Amid a shelter sun glances my natural setting,

I do imagine only the lightest of notion,

the beauty of the day, the ease in time,

to know our lives were meant to live this way.

 

When the eyes forever see the forest blend,

Is it not a remarkable reality to breathe in,

such beauty in a horizon filled by love,

allows desire, passion, wanton hope evolve.

 

For I am a single soul in the grip of natural light,

expectant only to travel in peace tonight,

watching the world through leaves of July,

knowing the august of my life is near by.

 

Feel the breeze, cool dew lays ground,

coming alive, sweet Nature’s bound.

In The Silent Cafe

This body sits alone in silent recall,

the voices, the activity, the monstrous sound

of espresso being ground,

for the hurried and swaggered consumer.

 

They are all bound

for some adventure, perhaps a honey-do

list,

bending forward, and falling backward,

their tastes are measured by those around,

and one solo black coffee

seems far less profound.

 

I will take it though,

and find my corner nearby,

to locate the faces and the expressions

of the many lives

will occupy this favorite bistro’s lines.

 

Rally faith upon the barista,

who holds a smile today,

might groan later in the backroom,

yet the power they surfeit,

they haven’t really a clue,

until one day,

in the back corner,

they might see whose actions

are delightfully true.

 

Today they are certainly coffee shop blues,

where tomorrow’s energy convey fresh clues.

 

Conversations Again

I’m sitting in my local coffee shop,

listening to Bjork shout angst toward

human behavior,

and I have to pause, listen to the words,

watch the lips move,

‘same as it ever was’

a lyric David Byrne gave us years ago,

and yet,

the conversations are still the same,

people trying to make each other,

make each other believe,

a promise, an idea, an ideal, a plea,

a necessary tool toward their own

imminent survival.

It is this human condition,

causes all of us,

well most,

to somehow indicate we can communicate,

participate, challenge, inform, suggest,

repeal,

what a God-awful reality,

when our luxuries of communications,

fall into the trappings,

the attitude, the ugly, the incomprehensible nature,

of human hypocrisy.

Sights in a Small Town Cafe

Java Moose

java moose in grand marais

I watched the lines continue to grow,

all wanting, waiting, wishing,

yet I never knew the latter,

especially by expression,

I only managed to maybe gather,

their reasons to be seemed rather

the same as mine and yours.

 

Not your typical cafe I might add,

the people wanting much more,

than the usual scenario

-to see and be seen-

to more be understood,

to be in line with a certain

pleasure,

beyond the usual fare.

 

In a north-wood cafe,

the goal is not to stay,

yet it seems the rains have made it that way,

so the lines have increased,

though the attitude remain the same,

we are all part of this universe,

and today is just another day.

Welcome Here

Now

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There is this place I feel like I belong

where I can see beyond

a world inside my head

a place where original notions

might evolve

An analyst’s couch where once we told

our darkest nightmare,

that undecided frightened look of terror

only for his eyes

later her eyes were telling the same

truths

There is this place where I might shadow fear

to find the words suggest

I’m here …

now.

~

*photo credit – my coffee shop (they let me drink here)

Coffee, Please

Coffee Shop

summer brew smells and delights for everyone to taste

we all arrived at different times all wanting the same ideal

perhaps a latte, summer cooler, smoothie, I will preference

a hot black coffee

please

we are your neighbor, business woman, lunch breaker, visitor,

we will talk about  a lot of the same things all day long

everyone repeating themselves, imagining their unique

take on virtual reality, that world we all stroll through

brought to attention with the sweet aroma

of dark roast, medium brew, chocolate, or perhaps

DECAF!

(seems almost sacrilegious)

little does it matter though once the dialogue begins,

once the wardrobes arrive,

once all of the interactions teeming to notice one another

settle into the comfy chairs and the hardback postures.

I like to imagine people’s lives while sipping my coffee

black

no cream please, leave the sugar out, I think it is a healthy dose

of fresh-brewed

obsidian.

always please remember

to tip the barrister.