Cool Group/Poetry Submission
A big part of what inspired me to start this website was my time spent studying art in Italy. There are so many artistic values in coffee. I majored in poetry in college and thought I'd share a poem ...
we both lay there on cold sheets,
an open window is the woe.
I covered your shoulders when you were still asleep.
walking to the fridge with bare feet on wood floors,
two beers and a tray of ice...a dehydrated moment of clarity.
sitting at the window so the smoke goes out.
the city is silent for the most,
once again I am up before the sun.
I grab a pen and that book you bought,
you always say you never see me write.
- matt
we both lay there on cold sheets,
an open window is the woe.
I covered your shoulders when you were still asleep.
walking to the fridge with bare feet on wood floors,
two beers and a tray of ice...a dehydrated moment of clarity.
sitting at the window so the smoke goes out.
the city is silent for the most,
once again I am up before the sun.
I grab a pen and that book you bought,
you always say you never see me write.
- matt
Replies to This Discussion
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Permalink Reply by Jay Lijewski (TacomaPenna) on
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Dehydrated clarity is always painful! Especially when cheap wine is the culprit.
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Permalink Reply by Joshua Boyt on
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Matt,
This is a great piece! Thanks for starting this networking tool and being an active member in the coffee community. You are a gentleman and a scholar!
J-Boogie -
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Permalink Reply by Matt Milletto on
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I found another poem that is coffee related ...
back to the grind
demitasse are in piles
of coffee grounds, I sit
coffee stains and tattoo's
i have been at it for hours
a one group exploration
in the kitchen bags
of to go cups and pucks
under eyes barely open
the last beans dance between burrs
an empty hopper can't lie
hot water, steam making music
and a white towel turned chocolate brown
leaving my apartment
door unlocked, the elevator
is stuck on six
evening air inhaled
through the nose, as I walk
to the corner coffee shop
standing in line behind you
a macchiato , double ristretto
half pound of sidamo
a black apron on
you look at me and smile
i dig for change
on the way back I pass
the cardboard sleepers
and the shopping cart drivers
the blind lead the blind
into friday night taxi crosswalks
an empty door step is soon filled
raising the whole bean
bag to my nose
i close my eyes
a natural process safari
back to the grind -
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