En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Awesome understanding of everything

There were times when I was a very young child, that a feeling…
A sense of well being would flood over me. When I felt completely
At ease with…and understood fully the great scheme of all things great
And small, without knowing exactly just what it was that I understood so
profoundly, nor why it made feel so good.

That was so long ago. But then inexplicably It happened again!
While sipping morning coffee and reading two versions of Jean Auel’s
“The Mammoth Hunters” one in Spanish and the other in English, while
Taking my morning coffee at McDonalds in Walmart.

My weary ol’ eyes drifted from my books upon which I had laid my glasses,
To rain clouds misting over the mountains that rim the Vegas valley. I rubbed
My eyes and then my brow…and that was when my childhood epiphanies returned.

Sitting with eyes closed, fingers wrapped round my foam coffee cup, That sense
Of wonder…of profound peace, serenity and complete understanding flooded over
me once more….And for a few precious seconds I knew all…and had the answer to
Everything!

That feeling of bliss and awesome wisdom was fleeting indeed, and reality returned
To the staccato chatter in Chinese, of someone speaking loudly (as almost all cell phone users are
given to do) accompanied by giggles from a gaggle of young Mexican girls a few booths away.

My feeling of being one with the universe slipped back to whence it came. I replaced my
Glasses on my nose, sighed, with a monumental sense of loss, took a sip of my lukewarm
Coffee, focused on my books once again and regretfully returned to reality, while wondering
“is this some quirk, peculiar only to me?

If you’ve bothered to bear with me this far, and have ever experienced this, and/or can
relate to this phenomenon, then perhaps we share something special or…perhaps something
not so special at all.

poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One More Cup Of Coffee

Your breath is sweet
Your eyes are like two jewels in the sky.
Your back is straight, your hair is smooth
On the pillow where you lie.
But i don't sense affection
No gratitude or love
Your loyalty is not to me
But to the stars above.
One more cup of coffee for the road,
One more cup of coffee 'fore i go
To the valley below.
Your daddy he's an outlaw
And a wanderer by trade
He'll teach you how to pick and choose
And how to throw the blade.
He oversees his kingdom
So no stranger does intrude
His voice it trembles as he calls out
For another plate of food.
One more cup of coffee for the road,
One more cup of coffee 'fore i go
To the valley below.
Your sister sees the future
Like your mama and yourself.
You've never learned to read or write
There's no books upon your shelf.
And your pleasure knows no limits
Your voice is like a meadowlark
But your heart is like an ocean
Mysterious and dark.
One more cup of coffee for the road,
One more cup of coffee 'fore i go
To the valley below.

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One More Cup Of Coffee

Your breath is sweet and weak,
Your eyes are like two jewels in the sky.
Your back is straight, your hair is smooth
On the pillow where you lie.
But I don't sense affection
No gratitude or love
Your loyalty is not to me
But to the stars above.
One more cup of coffee for the road
One more cup of coffee 'fore I go
To the valley below.
Your daddy he's an outlaw
And a wanderer by trade
He'll teach you how to pick and choose
And how to throw the blade
He oversees his kingdom
So no stranger does intrude
His voice it trembles as he calls out
For another plate of food
One more cup of coffee for the road,
One more cup of coffee 'fore I go
To the valley below
Your sister sees the future
Like your mother and yourself
You've never learned to read or write
There's no books upon your shelf.
But your pleasure knows no limits
And your voice is like a meadowlark
Your heart is like the ocean
Mysterious and dark
One more cup of coffee for the road,
One more cup of coffee 'fore I go
To the valley below

song performed by by White Stripes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Naked Before My Eyes

feeling empty
i sense you
i get near you
feeling your hand
and you look at me
knowing something
that fills you too
i like you to be
my empty cup
to my hot water
i can be more
than hot water
i can be a spoon
stirring you and
you can be coffee too
and cream and
sugar and mint

i can be the mouth
that opens to drink
you as coffee and
surely we shall have
a good time together

tonight i like you
to be more than coffee
and cream and sugar

just be yourself naked
before my emptiness

and i can also be more
than a mouth to you

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mystical One

They say Im not what I used to be
All the same
Im happier than a willow tree
Shine or rain sitting here by a stream
(mmm) theres nothing Id rather feel
In this world
You and your sweet serenity
Rocking me
Melting my heart away
I know something so dear to me
Beyond words
Beautiful feeling in my soul
Sounds Ive heard
Like humming birds in a dream
(mmm) that mystical one I knew
Is returned
Lulling me with those raincloud eyes
Taking me
Melting my heart away
I am yes I am
I know what I feel
You came in my life
Made me more real
I know whatever we may have been
In past times
Has sorted the truth out from the rest
Win or lose
I always knew youd be there
(mmm) you answer my deepest prayer
In a song
Shimmering slowhand flowing clear
Moving me
Melting my heart away
I am yes I am
I know what I feel
You came in my life
Made me more real
(mmm) that mystical one I knew
Is returned
Lulling me with those raincloud eyes
Taking me
Melting my heart away

song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whatever Gets You On

Picked up the paper
flipped through the pages
reached for my coffee cup
yes, I'm still waking up
late in the day now
what can I say now
some folks are morning people
I never was one of those
all the same
I'll get in the game
give me muddy, muddy water
now I'm feeling better
you know whatever gets you on
and keeps you up right past the dawn
I'm feeling good now
I'm feeling great now
let's do the town now
vodka and tonic
a touch of the chronic
I trade my days for nights
I love the city lights
none of your business
who I might sleep with
some things are bad for me
and some things I just can't resist
all the same (I don't worry)
I'll get in the game (I don't worry)
give me muddy, muddy water
now I'm feeling better
you know, whatever gets you on
and keeps you up right past the dawn
I'm feeling good now
I'm feeling great now
let's do the town now
I'm feeling so free-wheelin'
and it's so hard to maintain
fascinate me
medicate me
'cause I can't get over the pain
picked up the paper
flipped through the pages
coffee and cigarettes
turn on the tv set
night time is falling
people are calling
I like to watch them run
round and round and round
you know, whatever gets you on
and keeps you up right past the dawn
I'm feeling good now
I'm feeling great now
let's do the town now

song performed by by Fastball
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clouds In My Coffee

(dieter bohlen)
Producer for bonnie: dieter bohlen
Oh do you remember the moment
When the sky turned to a sad shade of grey
As darkness crept over the ocean
Then you turned - to walk away
I looked to the place at the table
Your face - no longer Id see
The reflection I saw in your coffee
Was a bitter reflection of me
*clouds in my coffee
And tears in my heart
Thats what Im feeling
Youve torn me apart
Clouds in my coffee
It could be a dream
But as you walk away
Its all I can see
I still remember the feeling
As the night woke up to the dawn
To awake and realise the meaning
What my eyes had focused upon
These rooms so cold and so empty
Just spaces where photographs were
The echoing silence assured me
That you really were no longer here
*repeat

song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Government Owned!

she bought a bag
of cheap coffee,
a quart of milk,
and a box of pads...
bundled up in her Goodwill coat,
walked back across the parking lot,
and up the street with
tears in her eyes.

she knew the baby was crying,
and her old man sitting
there staring blankly
out the window at the world...
wondering where in the hell
he could scuff a few bucks.
just coffee and milk, and
trying to heat the apartment

with the kitchen stove...
too young to have lived,
to live on the memories
of a childhood long gone!
two more weeks till her check,
and nothing in her pockets.
the food stamps long gone,
and nothing on her table!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Part Of The Whole

For years the clouds had engulfed you
and I often looked to see where you were.
At times I doubted your very existence,
but then I sensed that you were there.

I was standing in an overcrowded room
where no one had a face,
but then an overwhelming feeling of closeness
was inexplicably taking place.

Through the chatter of the unknown faces
I sensed someone was searching for me,
but I was blind in this mass of strangers
and this searcher I just couldn't see.

I began to doubt my sense of intuition,
until the clouds let through the sun.
It was then that I saw you looking at me,
and you shone through everyone.

All around you had vanished in silence,
we became alone in time and space.
We shared the uniqueness of those few seconds
and I knew they could never be replaced.

I'd never experienced such a happening,
my breath faltered when I felt your touch.
You lifted me far above the earthly clouds,
no one should dare to ask so much.

I had no idea where you would take me,
and to be honest I didn't care.
My lungs were filled for the very first time,
I now feel a part of everywhere.

poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Every Morning

My god the years have passed me by
where was I hiding
And then around the world for sometimes
it's a previous now

The morning sun is in my eyes
It doesn't hide the lies
It is not there
The great skies
Happy birthday baby
Happy birthday

Every morning
Every morning in time
we're doing fine
Every morning
Every morning in time
we're doing fine

I don't remember being you
Was it so much for me
I don't remember feeling this great
It was not for me

I paid the price
A sacrifice
It was worth than that

My time has come
I don't(?) feel young
Begin again
Happy birthday

Every morning
Every morning in time
we're doing fine
Every morning
Every morning in time
we're doing fine

song performed by by Cranberries from Wake Up And Smell The Coffee
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coffee

Sometimes life is merely a matter of coffee and whatever intimacy a cup of coffee
affords. I once read something about coffee. The thing said that coffee is good for you;
it stimulates all the organs.
I thought at first this was a strange way to put it, and not altogether pleasant, but
as time goes by I have found out that it makes sense in its own limited way. I'll tell you
what I mean.
Yesterday morning I went over to see a girl. I like her. Whatever we had going for us
is gone now. She does not care for me. I blew it and wish I hadn't.
I rang the door bell and waited on the stairs. I could hear her moving around upstairs.
The way she moved I could tell that she was getting up. I had awakened her.
Then she came down the stairs. I could feel her approach in my stomach. Every step she
took stirred my feelings and lead indirectly to her opening the door. She saw me and it
did not please her.
Once upon a time it pleased her very much, last week. I wonder where it went,
pretending to be naive.
"I feel strange now," she said. "I don't want to talk."
"I want a cup of coffee," I said, because it was the last thing in the world
that I wanted. I said it in such a way that it sounded as if I were reading her a telegram
from somebody else, a person who really wanted a cup of coffee, who cared about nothing
else.
"All right," she said.
I followed her up the stairs. It was ridiculous. She had just put some clothes on. They
had not quite adjusted themselves to her body. I could tell you about her ass. We went
into the kitchen.
She took a jar of instant coffee off the shelf and put it on the table. She placed a
cup next to it, and a spoon. I looked at them. She put a pan full of water on the stove
and turned the gas on under it.
All this time she did not say a word. Her clothes adjusted themselves to her body. I
won't. She left the kitchen.
Then she went down the stairs and outside to see if she had any mail. I didn't remember
seeing any. She came back up the stairs and went into another room. She closed the door
after her. I looked at the pan full of water on the stove.
I knew that it would take a year before the water started to boil. It was now October
and there was too much water in the pan. That was the problem. I threw half of the water
into the sink.
The water would boil faster now. It would take only six months. The house was quiet.
I looked out the back porch. There were sacks of garbage there. I stared at the garbage
and tried to figure out what she had been eating lately by studying the containers and
peelings and stuff. I couldn't tell a thing.
It was now March. The water started to boil. I was pleased by this.
I looked at the table. There was the jar of instant coffee, the empty cup and the spoon
all laid out like a funeral service. These are the things that you need to make a cup of
coffee.
When I left the house ten minutes later, the cup of coffee safely inside me like a
grave, I said, "Thank you for the cup of coffee."
"You're welcome," she said. Her voice came from behind a closed door. Her
voice sounded like another telegram. It was really time for me to leave.
I spent the rest of the day not making coffee. It was a comfort. And evening came, I
had dinner in a restaurant and went to a bar. I had some drinks and talked to some people.
We were bar people and said bar things. None of them remembered, and the bar closed. It
was two o'clock in the morning. I had to go outside. It was foggy and cold in San
Francisco. I wondered about the fog and felt very human and exposed.
I decided to go visit another girl. We had not been friends for over a year. Once we
were very close. I wondered what she was thinking about now.
I went to her house. She didn't have a door bell. That was a small victory. One must
keep track of all the small victories. I do, anyway.
She answered the door. She was holding a robe in front of her. She didn't believe that
she was seeing me. "What do you want?" she said, believing now that she was
seeing me. I walked right into the house.
She turned and closed the door in such a way that I could see her profile. She had not
bothered to wrap the robe completely around herself. She was just holding the robe in
front of herself.
I could see an unbroken line of body running from her head to her feet. It looked kind
of strange. Perhaps because it was so late at night.
"What do you want?" she said.
"I want a cup of coffee," I said. What a funny thing to say, to say again for
a cup of coffee was not what I really wanted.
She looked at me and wheeled slightly on the profile. She was not pleased to see me.
Let the AMA tell us that time heals. I looked at the unbroken line of her body.
"Why don't you have a cup of coffee with me?" I said. "I feel like
talking to you. We haven't talked for a long time."
She looked at me and wheeled slightly on the profile. I stared at the unbroken line of
her body. This was not good.
"It's too late," she said. "I have to get up in the morning. If you want
a cup of coffee, there's instant in the kitchen. I have to go to bed."
The kitchen light was on. I looked down the hall into the kitchen. I didn't feel like
going into the kitchen and having another cup of coffee by myself. I didn't feel like
going to anybody else's house and asking them for a cup of coffee.
I realized that the day had been committed to a very strange pilgrimage, and I had not
planned it that way. At least the jar of instant coffee was not on the table, beside an
empty white cup and a spoon.
They say in the spring a young man's fancy turns to thoughts of love. Perhaps if he has
enough time left over, his fancy can even make room for a cup of coffee.

poem by Richard Brautigan from Revenge of the Lawn (1971)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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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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True Faith

I feel so extraordinary
Somethings got a hold on me
I get this feeling Im in motion
A sudden sense of liberty
I dont care cause Im not there
And I dont care if Im here tomorrow
Again and again Ive taken too much
Of the things that cost you too much
I used to think that the day would never come
Id see delight in the shade of the morning sun
My morning sun is the drug that brings me near
To the childhood I lost, replaced by fear
I used to think that the day would never come
That my life would depend on the morning sun...
When I was a very small boy,
Very small boys talked to me
Now that weve grown up together
Theyre afraid of what they see
Thats the price that we all pay
Our valued destiny comes to nothing
I cant tell you where were going
I guess there was just no way of knowing
I used to think that the day would never come
Id see delight in the shade of the morning sun
My morning sun is the drug that brings me near
To the childhood I lost, replaced by fear
I used to think that the day would never come
That my life would depend on the morning sun...
I feel so extraordinary
Somethings got a hold on me
I get this feeling Im in motion
A sudden sense of liberty
The chances are weve gone too far
You took my time and you took my money
Now I fear youve left me standing
In a world thats so demanding
I used to think that the day would never come
Id see delight in the shade of the morning sun
My morning sun is the drug that brings me near
To the childhood I lost, replaced by fear
I used to think that the day would never come
That my life would depend on the morning sun...

song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Is it Tea or Coffee?

Is it Tea or Coffee?
Tell me!
My instant early morning dream
I like it black, white with sugar or cream!

The choice is free
Yet the mind cannot agree
With Tea is a Yippee!
With Coffee it is a Whoopee!

The thought of a little caffeine
The smell of fresh roasted beans
Will once again set off my adrenalin
While my exhausted brain is waiting

That stirring cup of sizzling black
Put on the kettle; spill the beans out of the sack
I will pay the fee; I will pay the levee
I will beg on one knee for a little bit of Coffee

Take a sip of the early morning coffee
Close your eyes and try to see
As you smell the airy aroma like a bee
Tea or Coffee! Perhaps you now understand me

Those swarms of dark brown seeds
They feed my vicious needs indeed
I don’t care how much I pee or how much I wee
For that sparking liquid of hot black called coffee

Copyright 2008 - Sylvia Chidi

poem by Sylvia Chidi
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One More Cup Of Coffee (Valley Below)

Your Breath is sweet, your eyes are like
Two jewels in the sky
Your back is straight your hair is smooth
On the pillow where you lie.
But I don't sense affection
No gratitude or love.
Your loyalty is not me but to the stars above
Chourus :
One more cup of coffee for the road.
One more cup of coffee for I go,
To the valley below.
Your daddy he's an outlaw
And a wanderer by trade.
He'll teach you how to pick an choose
And how to throw the blade.
And he oversees his kingdom
So no stranger does intrude.
His voice it trembles as he calls out
For another plate of food
Chorus
Your sister sees the future
Like your momma and yourself.
You've never learned to read or write
There's no books upon your shelf.
And your pleasure know no limits
Your voice is like a meadow larks.
But your heart is like an ocean
Mysterious and dark.
Chours

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Cold Cup Of Coffee...

must i know now the
significance of a coffee getting cold
after it is being served
on my table?
how do i not notice time passing?
like a breeze from the sea
because i have been preoccupied
looking at the horizon
anticipating the glory of the
sunrise that
i am waiting for most of my time
having spent
nights on isolated veranda
away from friends
and relatives?

a cold coffee now
that i regret having asked
and just like the rest of
my other coffees
it shall remain as it is

coffee on its brim
returned
untouched.....

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Else Ahead of Us Is Next?

I wasn't looking for love.
I wasn't looking for 'you'...
That's for sure!
But...
When our eyes met,
In the way that 'our' eyes met...
We both knew what that feeling was between us.
We both knew what that feeling meant.

What Else Ahead Of Us Is Next?

And for seconds we let it linger.
As if 'forever' came to not forget.

I was not looking for love.
Especially at that time of the day.
And under the circumstances.
We were at work and not at play.

It wasn't a setting for where love should be.
The humidity was high...
And we both were inside,
Sitting amongst others...
Preparing to eat,
Escaping from a Summer heat.

You with other obligations.
And me...
Determined to stay single.
For the rest of my life...
I expected to be.

We were all talking!
And suddenly our eyes...
From opposite ends of a table,
It then 'happened' as if secretly.
THERE.
Our eyes met each other,
And 'there' those feelings we both had...
Knew what it was instantly.

I wasn't looking for love.
I wasn't looking for 'you'...
That's for sure!
But...
When our eyes met,
I did not regret it.
But...
When our eyes met,
There was love understood.
And you and I both let it...
Be!
With a knowing we,
Fell in love magically.

And now...
What on Earth will we choose,
To do...
Next?
Meet discreetly,
To share our passion and sex?

What Else Ahead Of Us Is Next?

I wasn't looking for love.
I wasn't looking for 'you'...
That's for sure!
But...
When our eyes met,
In the way that 'our' eyes met...
What else ahead of us is next?

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wound in Cellophane

The older women come to coffee
with cookies wound in cellophane.
They talk of children

or their children's children
or their garden.
Or they simply sew

and watch the young girls trickle in,
buy berry rolls and coffee,
nibble, sip, lick fingers, blow

small parachutes of smoke,
and laugh a young girl's
world of willy-nilly.

poem by Donal Mahoney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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