Coffee Is Fine
Having a brewing cup for coffee is fine,
Facing weather too hot, too much iron.
This strong iron is too late in taste,
Much of the flavours are inside.
The coffee is not tea, not even anything
Like the leaves of danger and bread.
My loaf of bread enriches the stomach
And all emptiness is about.
The cup of coffee has managed my upper class,
My thinking causes thinkers to abandon,
The ridding of thinkers and scholars is appalling
In the extreme.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
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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Fellow
since you are selfish
not wanting to share
your fish
your loaf
your coffee
i decided to imagine that
you do not exist
not even air
which still occupies
space
& weight a matter of my discretion
that is
all too personal
from now on i decided to rely upon
my fish
my own loaf of bread
my own coffee
my own jumping heart in that
Mount of Olives
from now on i go my way
that way
this way
all the way
i have nothing to lose
i am nothing
to you, but let me try my own way
who knows
with the blessings of Lady
Luck
who knows that i can also be
everything
to this and that
whatever that fate brings
on a tray
of fortune.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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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.
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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Questions......
lady, (lady in black
gown, black hat, and
hand-gloves)
why do you want your
coffee black?
why do you always want
bitterness?
why always alone
sitting on a chair facing the sea
and drinking the salt of
the breeze
with your black coffee?
why sip bitterness
when
to my mind, coffee would be
better with cream
and honey
with someone beside you
facing the sea and
savoring the salt of the sea
with that black coffee of yours?
lady, why mourn
when joy is just around the bend?
why can't we be alone
together?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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A Picture Of Greed
on one hand
he carries a
big loaf of bread
on the other
he carries a
basket
of the same
loaf of bread
on his head
is another
basket of
the same loaf
of bread
a little child
spreads his
hands for
a loaf of bread
then he speeds
his way
as he bites
a loaf of
bread in
his mouth
the little child
follows him
and there he
is closing the
door of his
house all
made of bread
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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An Afternoon Poem
it is all coffee without cream
no sugar, you say please, no sugar no cream
it is all about cold bread
nothing electrifying
unlike the softness of the arms of the beloved
it is about the coldness of bread
and the hotness of coffee
less the cream and the sugar
nothing sweet really
you guess it: there is something bitter
not from the water (for why should water be bitter?)
not from the cup (is there such a cup which has a bitter taste?)
guess further: you are wrong.
it is bitter, it is really bitter.
it comes from the heart. Not from the saucer
or the spoon.
it is the heart that is bitter. do not attempt
tasting it.
it can be toxic because it is mine.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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A Coffee Break
I drink milky coffee
cos' I don't like it black.
It ain't because I'm weird
or stuff or anything like that.
I just like milky coffee
but when I asked for it
no one understood me
although I gasped for it.
I went into this burger bar
and asked the guy to make one.
He looked at me quite vacant
and asked me to explain one.
I said you tip some coffee out
and put a dropp more milk in,
but he just stood there gapin'
and said he couldn't do it!
I really hate hot coffee
and I ain't gonna lie
I'd rather eat asbestos
than let my poor tongue fry.
So now I'm drinkin' fruit juice,
to make like I'm discernin'.
They serve it at posh restaurants.
It stops my stomach churnin'.
poem by Ruth Walters
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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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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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potatoes, old bread,
last pot of coffee, brewed strong,
nothing on the shelf!
haiku by Eric Cockrell
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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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A Miracle for Breakfast
At six o'clock we were waiting for coffee,
waiting for coffee and the charitable crumb
that was going to be served from a certain balcony
--like kings of old, or like a miracle.
It was still dark. One foot of the sun
steadied itself on a long ripple in the river.
The first ferry of the day had just crossed the river.
It was so cold we hoped that the coffee
would be very hot, seeing that the sun
was not going to warm us; and that the crumb
would be a loaf each, buttered, by a miracle.
At seven a man stepped out on the balcony.
He stood for a minute alone on the balcony
looking over our heads toward the river.
A servant handed him the makings of a miracle,
consisting of one lone cup of coffee
and one roll, which he proceeded to crumb,
his head, so to speak, in the clouds--along with the sun.
Was the man crazy? What under the sun
was he trying to do, up there on his balcony!
Each man received one rather hard crumb,
which some flicked scornfully into the river,
and, in a cup, one drop of the coffee.
Some of us stood around, waiting for the miracle.
I can tell what I saw next; it was not a miracle.
A beautiful villa stood in the sun
and from its doors came the smell of hot coffee.
In front, a baroque white plaster balcony
added by birds, who nest along the river,
--I saw it with one eye close to the crumb--
and galleries and marble chambers. My crumb
my mansion, made for me by a miracle,
through ages, by insects, birds, and the river
working the stone. Every day, in the sun,
at breakfast time I sit on my balcony
with my feet up, and drink gallons of coffee.
We licked up the crumb and swallowed the coffee.
A window across the river caught the sun
as if the miracle were working, on the wrong balcony.
poem by Elizabeth Bishop
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Coffee Courage
The bitter coffee kicked;
I shook and then I licked
My lips and gave a sigh.
Shattered eyes encouraged,
I nearly had envisaged
Waking up an eye.
Another sip; a jolt –
Not unlike a bolt
Of wattage from the mains.
My sockets under strain,
I tried it once again:
Aha! The light, the searing white –
My God, the bloody pain!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Courage, courage, coffee courage,
Courage, courage, courage,
Courage, courage, coffee courage,
Courage, courage, courage,
Courage, courage, coffee courage,
Courage, courage, courage,
Courage, courage, coffee courage,
Courage, courage, courage,
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Coffee for Bed
Bed coffee
Don't drink...
At morning...
Drink water
300 ml after
Take coffee...
Avoid bed coffee
For yours good
Helth...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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