Her Name, I Wrote

on a slip of paper
a mere scrap
stained with my
morning coffee
from my paper cup
outside of the small
where I waited for someone
to pass by,

She became someone
since no one else chanced
to ask me for directions
and smile encouraging
at me,

I just stood there,
a crushed coffee cup
dangling from
my hand,
speechless, staring
at how someone
not just anyone,
could steal my gaze
and most likely
break my heart
all at the same time!

All that I could say
utter, grunt, whisper
in a hoarse voice
was to ask for her name,
allowing it to grace
my slip of paper
a mere scrap

So elegantly
was it written
my coffee cup
having fallen
littering the ground
upon which she also
had chanced to be on.
and then
bending down was she, picking
up that paper cup
smiling at me
as if she already
had known my name
and it pleased her

Her name, I wrote
a name that I never would

Her name, which now
beside my own
while I sipped my coffee
in its paper cup
and I,

I sat considering
those two words
while I drank
my coffee,

Smiling in the same way
she had smiled
at me…


Too Many Cigarettes

Too much coffee
too much loving
too much sugar
too much insanity
-when you threw a chair at me
too much wonder
too few sunsets
too many cigarettes
too many thoughts of you two
too many thoughts of just me
too many fleas on my dog
too many toos in this poem
too few letters written by me
to you…..

While the Coffee

While the coffee
grows cold in the cup
the last strains
the last music
someone like Pink Floyd
singing a familiar tune,
echoing in the background
not making the coffee
be any warmer,
but as you might know
cold coffee won’t be
resurrected again,
not on this side of the flavor
still residing near my taste buds
telling me that more coffee
won’t bring back that taste
the one that starts the new brew
the memory being renewed,
with the taste radiating,
re-awakening my senses
and sharpening my wit,

While the coffee
was still warm in the cup
and my fingers were sliding
along the keyboard,
it might have been with me
thinking about someone like
Neil Young instead,
while the processes that cause
my warm delight to fade to cold

Increase as the music fades to black..

I’m Afraid, She Said

“I’m afraid”, she said

“Afraid of what your love has done
left me alone with my thoughts
that darken and become bitter
cold and unthinkable
lifeless, waiting to die….”

“We’ve just run out of coffee”, he said.

“That’s all….”

When I Saw Her Last

It was a sunny day

when I saw her, last

The most gentlest of breezes

along with her smile, sweet

and the longing in her eyes,

and the soothing way, she said

we’ve run out of filter number 4

and the coffee is burning a hole in my memory…


And my memory

of her as well…..