“What are you doing, love?”
“Brewing
coffee, cooking rice
thanking
geese that venture into dreams
loud
and early,
banishing
nightmares out of city skies,
plotting
ways to make it up to my heart; you, baby?”
“Wandering
through the woods with my eyes closed,
wondering
how to adorn my handwritten thoughts…
I have
been thrilling on the idea of easel poetry,
wee
bits of written life leaning on upcycled tripods.
Still,
no garnishing for my words’ canvases.”
“Kiss
them with coffee rings
real
ones. From a bit of dark and sweet
liquid
that slow-dances over the edges
of
your morning cup, kissed and tasted,
made
real by living lips, my baby’s
hot
lips.”
“That’s
perfect, love,
living
poetry written on coffee filters and rice paper,
garnished—what
a pretty word that is, garnished—
with
kissed hot and sweet coffee.
Your
nightmare, love, what was it about?”
“I
let some guy borrow my bike, my perfect bike;
brown
framed, silked in green paint,
ready
for life’s wars. In my dreams, I knew
I’d
ridden others, but none like my chosen bike.
I
went to the place where the guy was keeping it,
I kicked
all I saw. I wanted my bike back,
but
nothing there was mine.”
“You
let him. You let the guy borrow your bike.”
“I
know. I knew. The guy took care of my bike, too,
but
never like I would.
No
one can treat my baby like I do.”
“It
wasn’t the guy’s fault.”
“No.
And I wasn’t mad at the guy.
I
destroyed the place
because
I was the one to let the guy in.”
“Did
you find your bike?
In your
dreams,
did
you get your perfect bike back?”
“I
did.”
“Now
what, love? What will you—?”
“I’ll
spend days and nights taking care of my baby,
making
it up to us, showing love with heart and hands.
And
you, what will you do, baby?”
“I
will write rice and coffee poesy.”
- for Poets and Storytellers United--Friday Writings #42: Choices, where Rosemary invites us to consider a choice we made (large or small) and write of what followed.
Oh, what a fascinating exchange – a mixture of the delightfully everyday and the profound – as life is, as relationships are. Even in dreams we make choices, eh? I like your waking choice of 'rice and coffee poesy'!
ReplyDelete"Even in dreams we make choices..."
Delete...yes, we do.
DeleteI can't tell you how much of an inspiration you are to me. Your writings are light and beautiful deep profound meanings. Anyway, they are to me. I am fortunate to know you, even if it is through the things we call cyberspace. Have a truly lovely day.
ReplyDeleteThis makes me very happy.
Deleteyes, it's nice, i have tried the coffee rings on paper. They form rings or crescents on the paper and then i write a little haiku on them with a thick pen and finish it off with a thumbprint (a signature of sorts). Now, where did i put all those little pieces of paper when i need them?
ReplyDeleteFind them! And share them!
DeleteI'm still stuck somewhere between thanking geese, easel poetry and coffee poesy.. I want to do all three! (even though skills stop at thanking geese or maybe not even that!)
ReplyDelete*giggles*
DeleteWhat a magnificent response to the prompt! Your poem conjures up so many images and appeals to all senses.
ReplyDeleteI love your "living poetry written on coffee filters." I can't thank you enough for mine, especially with autumn's promise ahead "to write [myself] free." <3
Your words, my dear friend, warm my heart.
DeleteA dialogue! A dialogue! Creative writing at its very best. You, your writing ~~ garnish our everyday lives in so many ways. Cheers, Magaly.
ReplyDeleteYou sweet talker, you!
Delete“Kiss them with coffee rings…” what a line!
ReplyDeleteI do love that one.
DeleteThis is so beautiful, surreal, and sweet. I can't quite pinpoint all the feelings brought up in me when I read it (and I've read it several times), but the tenderness is the note that strikes truest in me.
ReplyDelete🖤
DeleteI like this dialogue verse
ReplyDeleteGlad you do.
Delete"“Kiss them with coffee rings
ReplyDeletereal ones. From a bit of dark and sweet
liquid that slow-dances over the edges
of your morning cup, kissed and tasted,
made real by living lips, my baby’s
hot lips.”
What a sensuous stanza!
Thank you.
DeleteI like "thanking geese that venture into dreams / loud and early."
ReplyDeleteThey are very likable geese. 😁
DeleteWhat a fascinating poem!
ReplyDeleteI just saw the bit at the bottom! I wonder if my posts are being labelled anon. Laura.
I suspect some have showed up as anonymous. Blogger works (or doesn't, lol) in mysterious ways.
DeleteEven in waking sometimes we are still living in dreams. Your writing completely captures the reader and takes them (me) somewhere else.
ReplyDeleteI hope you liked it there...
Delete🖤
ReplyDelete