Out of all cookery, the coffee laced with schnapps is the best.
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Coffee!
Coffee beans all ground up,
Coffee in my favourite cup,
Coffee black, coffee white,
Coffee dark, coffee light,
Coffee right, to start the day,
Coffee at work, coffee at play,
Coffee midday, coffee at night,
Coffee to sober, coffee to excite,
Coffee weak, coffee strong,
But maybe instead some Lapsang Souchong! ! ! !
TEA! ! ! ! !
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Cup of mocha
You never liked
the taste of mocha
You said it was
coffee laced
with chocolate lies
I always loved it
when the chocolate
masked the coffee
Just enough, and
let it linger nice
A lie coated truth
But, truth nevertheless...
The warm cup of mocha
Stands and grows cold
outside in
Dreams, forgotten,
lie dormant
new, old within
I stretch over the table
as across continents
To hold your hands,
to cup some warmth into;
a coffee grown cold,
a life grown old
We always shared
the mocha
you sipping
seeking the coffee
While I taste
the chocolate,
wait with the coffee
We stare athwart
Our love’s passion,
no longer an obsession
It retains within us ties,
Coffee mingled with chocolate lies
You always said
“Serve me poison,
with a smile,
I will drink it too.
Please, don’t lace it
with chocolate as with
coffee you do.”
You never liked
the taste of mocha
Yet, you always
drink it with me
As you sip,
your eyes crinkle
and I smile too, with you...
poem by O. Sudhir Janardhanan
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Java Blues
Rick danko
I walked into a diner
And the blonde behind the counter
She asked if she could help in any way
Hell, I knew by her smile
Her number I could dial
If I was in the need of company
But as I bought some java
Instead she brought me a cup of chicory
I got those java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee
You know that Ill stay high
Ill drink coffee till I die
Dont pour me water just fill up my cup
You know it takes a lot just to keep me up
Cost may be more than you care to pay
What good is money compared to fightin pain
Dont try to cheat
Its impossible to beat
The only pick me up thats here to stay
I got those java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
Oh coffee, oh coffee
Java blues
Coffees got me
You know that Ill stay high
Ill drink coffee till I die
The taste of java is like a cocaine rush
Nobodys gonna stop me from drinkin too much
Down in bolivia the people are insane
They want as much for coffee as they do for cocaine
Dont try to cheat
Its impossible to beat
The only pick me up thats here to stay
I got those java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
The coffees got me now..
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee
You know that Ill stay high
Ill drink coffee till I die
I got the java blues
Oh coffee, coffee
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
Oh the coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, oh coffee
Java blues!
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Bitter Coffee... A Sweet Coffee
The age is running and I am still drinking my bitter coffee,
To when the story of this coffee belongs? !
Coffee and chocolate are so deferent in their tastes
But in several times
It happens that they have the same color.
It seems that the similarity of them is the same of features of the fortune reader.
When she gazes the cup of the coffee
But I am not so familiar with chocolate
Even I am not familiar with the talisman countenances of the hex.
I remember that once I asked him to give me a bitter coffee
Yet he has made a permanent bitter one
Each time he brings me the same coffee in the same cup
A question c0mes to my mind and I ask it to myself:
If we do not like the coffee, why we do drink it?
Do you think it is our destiny as my birth story?
I was born without my desire
Thus with each sip of the coffee
The destiny stops me not to tear the chocolate cover
to sweeten my coffee.
poem by Chnar Namq
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A different type of homework
Being a science student I attended cookery class for only one term
(3 months) in Class 8th...This poem is a small contribution for the
Cookery Class when we had to make Cookies at home and take
them to school for checking/inspection :) I have tried to make it a
funny poem :)
I was given homework to do,
a good presentation I made.
Next day I showed it too,
and all my friends admired.
My teacher came to inspect it,
and she sniffed it like a puppy.
Then she took a small bite,
chewed it and looked happy.
She took another bigger piece,
munching away and smiling.
I watched not feeling nice,
seeing my homework disappearing.
Soon she had finished it all,
I stood with my mouth agape.
My homework seems vitamins full,
that a teacher ate it with a burp?
Normal marking of assignment is to make you pass,
What of tasting and then eating your homework?
Your marking is done like this in class!
in cookery class the teacher eats your work. :)
renukakkar 28.10.2011
Copyright@2011
poem by Renu Kakkar
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Coffee Pot
coffee pot, , ,
old, worn, stained
by service...
faithful,
ready to give
warmth and needed...
sharpness, clarity.....
we are no more,
and often less....
on our best days,
in our best worn jeans,
boots laced and ready.....
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Coffee
Coffee is
Secrat of
Every day
For morning
Eneargy...
To day id'not
Take cofee
Come with haadache...
And sleep;
My body also lazy..
The coffee making
Somthig
For me...
I want to avoid
Coffee
You also try
To avoid coffee
For your feautere
Health...
Take black tea
Is better with good....! ! !
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Alankar (Decor) -25
Over A Cup Of Coffee (Rondine)
Tense, jittery over a cup of coffee
They talked for long hours
A coffee dropp bored of hours
Told the lady with a cup of coffee
'My lady, finish your coffee
A bored dropp on lips yours
Tense, jittery'
'Not mine'said the lady with coffee
'Fault is his wasting hours
Blot or break..his settling hours
So are we and this cup of coffee
Tense, jittery'
poem by Indira Renganathan
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The best coffee in Europe is Vienna coffee, compared to which all other coffee is fluid poverty.
Mark Twain in Greatly Exaggerated
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I never worked in a coffee shop and I don't drink coffee, so I never thought I would become a coffee pusher on TV.
quote by Scott Patterson
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Purple Lady
A welcome Christmas break.
Half a week off the turps.
Time for wine, whiskey, gin,
vodka, sambuca, ouzo and peach schnapps.
Or peach schnapps vodka ouzo combinations.
But what is the exact formula
for Helen’s secret recipe?
A really well mixed purple lady?
Sixty percent meths
to forty percent
straight orange juice.
Or meths seventy thirty
to get really spacy
before getting drunk.
Helen said getting back
on the meths
is like
‘holding hands
with a long lost lover’.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Turps and Meths – both are colloquial New Zealand kiwi
terms for methylated spirits.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Cup of Coffee
I start my day with coffee as my friend
The beans so fresh, as it blends
Giving out an aroma, that wakes me up
I stumble to the kitchen and look for the cup
I pour some black liquid and sip right away
I just want coffee, to start my day
Then on the road I'm on my way
Coffee is my friend to make my day
Stuck in traffic, I loose my mind
I then sip my coffee and just rewind
I get to work with a cup in hand
Juggling with papers I can't withstand
The coffee at work tastes bitter and cheap
But it's better than getting caught counting sheep
All day long, I make pot after pot
Of black steaming mugs of liquid gut-rot
Tanked up on coffee, I face the day
Taking anything that comes my way.
poem by Meena Mustafa
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Kissing don't last: cookery do!
quote by George Meredith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Starbucks goes to a great effort, and pays twice as much for its coffee as its competitors do, and is very careful to help coffee producers in developing countries grow coffee without pesticides and in ways that preserve forest structure.
quote by Jared Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Coffee Dream
Although it’s only one hour till lunch -
my stomach won’t wait.
Non-stop growling for the past two hours
has gotten the best of me.
Besides, my taste buds
are ready to murder for a cup of coffee.
Should I say ‘murder’ in a courthouse?
I discovered myself in the eating lounge
with a coffee machine that still doesn’t work.
How unfair that I can’t leave the building
for a quick cup of coffee till lunch.
So, I resort to having the small salad and orange
that was to be my lunch.
Still, I want that coffee!
I’ll take it boiling hot
right out of the pot.
So now I look forward
to when then release us for lunch.
I plan to run down the street and get
a very large cup of coffee -
maybe two or three.
I desperately need my caffeine fix for today.
Become Food!
your hand on the wheel,
Mayan bolt nonwithstanding...
where do we go from here?
my fingernails still dirty,
from digging and planting the seeds.
your eyes cloud over...
the promise of rain?
another chapter finished,
boots laced, and my hat,
your smile, a cup of coffee...
the dog waits at the door.
the mailman passes without slowing down.
the world keeps turning,
from dawn to setting sun.
and seeds become plants...
plants become food!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Silence
silence...
wall whispering silence.
streets that dont speak,
faces mechanically moving.
hammers hung from belts,
books closed, coffee brewing.
the voices of need and passion,
silent statements in flesh.
god, or something more,
understanding beyond conception.
the hand extended,
and boots laced tight.
the flame of truth,
flickers, stays strong.
nothing more needs be said,
than to live...
unto!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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