Friday, September 2, 2022

Rice and Coffee Poesy

“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.

13 comments:

  1. 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'!

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  2. I 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.

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  3. yes, 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?

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  4. I'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!)

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  5. What a magnificent response to the prompt! Your poem conjures up so many images and appeals to all senses.

    I 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

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  6. A dialogue! A dialogue! Creative writing at its very best. You, your writing ~~ garnish our everyday lives in so many ways. Cheers, Magaly.

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  7. “Kiss them with coffee rings…” what a line!

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  8. This 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.

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  9. "“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.”

    What a sensuous stanza!

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  10. I like "thanking geese that venture into dreams / loud and early."

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  11. What a fascinating poem!

    I just saw the bit at the bottom! I wonder if my posts are being labelled anon. Laura.

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  12. Even in waking sometimes we are still living in dreams. Your writing completely captures the reader and takes them (me) somewhere else.

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I love reading your insights, so share them with me; and if Blogger is acting foolish, and labels you Anonymous, please add your name at the end of your comment. 😘

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