Best Creamer Poems
A hour is lost
tucked inside a dark vase, gone
creamer drowned coffee.
Stared into my black coffee and thought back to when he loved me an how he matched the hue of his heart. He was smooth just like hs messy sorta curly hair wrapped in a bandana. I take my coffee black because, the taste of creamer doesn't do it for my sweet tooth anymore, but at times my coffee resembles those caramel hazel eyes and the taste of his skin.
Just wanted this coffee to be him, but I don't add creamer to my coffee, but I added too much damn emotions and I couldn't find him in my coffee anymore. Now, these tears are puddles on the ground cause his image has faded out of my coffee just like the way he disappeared from my life when he found someone new.
Maybe he's the reason I take my coffee black and love it so much because, when I'm looking into caramel coffee it's like looking into his eyes. The pieces of him I've got are dying like the love affair he had with a troubled girl like me.
Miss N.Y.C.
Double Etheree
1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1
-----No
-romance,
-----promoting
her deep longing,
--------------sexuality.
-----------Only casually.
--Occasionally, my creep.
------I am her vanilla creamer,
blended well with her cappuccino
-----influence, sweet, stirred by my ********!
------------Mayor of my world, sole candidate
---in this election. Love injected.
--------Definition of perfection.
her body recites a verse,
softly singing to me.
-----Lovely poetry,
------stimulating
---- melody.
romance?
NO!!!!
Jared Pickett
10/5/09
Asavvy1
There you sit, my Love,
holding nectar from above,
strong and rich and hot.
More awaits me in the pot!
Your serum lures me;
from my ennui, it cures me.
I clutch you and sup
from your bounty, coffee cup.
Dear, I hold you tight,
be it afternoon or night.
Solo, with a meal—
you possess immense appeal.
Folger’s, Maxwell House,
two great brands that I espouse,
Hazelnut or French
vanilla creamer and a pinch
of sugar creates
the magic mix that abates
my need for a sweet,
steaming, caffeine-laden treat!
November 29, 2016, entered in the Kim Rodrigues Wake Up with Coffee or Tea Contest
September 30, 2020
entered in the Completely Your Choice (19) Poetry Contest Placed 1st
Sponsor: Brian Strand
You're my best friend brother, a grown man and all. My dreams are so short but you make me them tall. Misdeem (misjudged) by the world, an x-ray to your visual mind. You understand my grind and my life. Being open to you man, I don't mind. Shining brighter than the sun, spinning faster than a fan. When I'm on top, I'll never let you off my block. It's a non-stop thing, I love you better than my green. Agape, Eros, Storge, Phileo I have for you. All because you stayed true. I'll give you my heart but, don't tear it apart. Friendship I have with you. Now I can say you are cool. With you it's different. I can't quite explain this feeling. It's like I love when you're around and then I’m okay when you're not around. Yes, at times I do miss you and I even think about you. Whatever it is I have with you. I’m cool with this picture. You’re like my puzzle that's put together.
You're a surfer riding my wave. You're my coffee with creamer, you're touch is so sweet and tender. You're like my cool breeze on a hot summer day. It feel so good that I ask God for more. You're my werewolf so addicting, strong and demanding. You're my vampire, I love you sex drive. You're my bike, you keep me going. You take me places no one else can take me. The images you put in my mind are so wild. You're kiss make me feel like I'm sitting in a sauna. You make me feel rich, richer than chocolate.
I feel like a flower sprouting out and blooming. I feel like the statue of liberty so, important and strong. With you I have a reason to strive. With you I have a Gold medal to display. With you I'm gone for days. With you I can be free, like a cheetah running in the field. I feel like a bald eagle, relaxed and calm. I feel so alive, more alive than the naked eye. I guess I'm done speaking to you today. You make me feel such a way.
11/30/16
That girl is an over achiever
And avid reader
That girl is a real brainteaser
Yet a true pleaser
That girl had a golden retriever
And a house with multiple bird feeders
That girl yeah she's a high speeder
The music always coming out loud from the speaker
That girl follows her own procedure and not the leader
She's a good teacher
That girl is a talented weaver
And familiar with using beakers
That girl can cook off the meter
Perfect balance of being spicy or sweeter
That girl wasn't eager, she has a wise demeanor
And works where fields are greener
That girl is an excellent cleaner
And she has family that works for Stanley Steemer
That girl burns reefer
And she is quite the sleeper
That girl wears either
Flashy shoes or sneakers
That girl lives by a lot of trees that are cedar
And wild creatures
That girl likes coffee with creamer
And she is not a picky eater
That girl is more than a dreamer
She does it in person whether or not you believe her
That girl can have a heart colder than a freezer
If you ever try to deceive her
That girl I've met and seen her
That girl she a keeper
That girl is more nimble than a ballerina
And more athletic than Venus or Serena
She doesn't rely on having to need a
Visa
She's a diva
Mama Mia!
She can sing as beautiful as aaliyah
Know's how to cook a pizza and damn good fajita
Familiar with herbs and spices including paprika
It's like eureka!
By: Dalton Ogletree
its always in my mind
about our last time
we did it alnight
holding each other tight
can't forget am so wet
my soul like a sex creamer
am
DAY SEX DREAMER
Good Question
This is my 40 lines in 40 minutes poem.
How did I start off my morning today
It was the very same and usual way
Turned on coffee pot the did my business
Sat on toilet to be sure I would not miss.
Soon another neat poem started typing
After my mental complaining and griping
Then my coffee I clumsily started to pour
Put right amount of creamer in was sure.
Placed back in fridge after some stirring
Again petted cat after hearing it purring
Drank coffee warm cup that had been hollow
Of course were more poems closely to follow.
Typing poems up have found it hard to do
After I read each line through and through
To see if errors are persistent and consistent
Before to my efforts they became resistant.
Horrors!!! Typing my poems up must be done
Which really to me never ever has been fun
Once you did see my display of dexterity
You would have much hilarity from my disparity.
Might not ever discover any connection at all
Was just like a newborn taking its first bawl.
Which later was turned into a frequent howl
Then after that on face soon saw a scowl.
When duty does call, it always has bad timing
Right in the middle of a poem I was rhyming
Hope poem doesn't take a literary, literal dive
And will survive and become part of an archive.
To read each line of poem never need to be afraid
Promise you by many received a passing grade
Even was recently read by an individual invalid
Who continued to read it like everyone else did.
Poem is presently being presented to a panel
Who literary science want to place in an ****
In case they find another fool willing to read
Thoughts that only a moron may ever need.
And two hours to type it up. Oh, and don't
know if you like my poems or not but God
made me write this one anyway so bare up.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran and Poet
They need ????? for a category to put this one
into. I am calling it a blessing because it is a
blessing it has finally left my mind intact.
Remember me, the cool glass milk bottle. I used to sit on your front porch early in the morning. You could hear me arriving before the sun was up. I am a Bateson Model Dairy milk bottle, beautifully made of thick clear glass. A lot of milk bottles have been replaced with plastic but I am an expensive looking quality original. I am one of the most popular milk bottles in the area.
I came from a small processing dairy in Wingham, Ontario where the Bateson family owned and operated their business for many, many years. Working seven days a week during the very early hours bottling milk delivered from local farmers producing hundreds of bottles for their loyal customers.
Remember the wonderful clinking sound of the milk bottles arriving? Leaving out the empties represents many people’s first concept of recycling. I can remember that relatively traumatic moment when I was replaced with the carton. There was just something really wrong about pouring milk out of a carton because it didn’t have that refreshing coolness of a glass bottle. A cold bottle of milk has a certain integrity to it and the glass retains that. What a shame.
The milkman would deliver me to the door and collect the empties which held a few coins or milk tickets to pay for the fresh bottle of milk. Many conversations occurred on the stoop of each home as the family pet circled for a sniff. My travels around town went from the horse drawn milk wagon to a square van. Sometimes when the van stopped the old dog, Dina would wake up to chase a cat up a tree.
Over the years my shape has changed and my new caps gave me some upbeat fashion. But the quality of my contents stayed true. Sadly, if you show a child a glass milk bottle today he won’t know what it is. I come in many shapes and sizes, the quart, the pint, the half pint, the creamer and many more. The name printed on my side changed little over the years to keep the nostalgia of the small time dairy business.
Now I am considered an antique waiting on dusty shelves in antique shops for a new home. When you see me you may be thrilled to find a bit of history to place on the mantle of your home. You might recall childhood memories of the comforting sound of the milk man arriving at the door with fresh milk so very early in the morning.
There is a sense of wonder in your eyes
I can't understand your marvelous cries
I am surprised by your approval to let me go... I thank you wholeheartedly, you know?
I'm left in pieces in the woods of my mind and I hear the midnight crow
I'm a dreamweaver, tracing the auras of the eclipse
I'm facing my nightmare with much bravery in a bittersweet glimpse
I'm starting to grow fond of you,
Even if you are a dream come true
I'm starting to be attached to you,
Although we've parted ways out of the blue
I smile at the sand of the sea as my hopes never grow dry
I wave at the birds, taking wing
I nod at the sun in the sunny sky
I admire the scenery before my eyes as I gracefully sing
So terrified by the whistling wind of the west
I'm trying my best to pass life's difficult test
It's getting harder and harder to see the bright side
Something tells me not to worry, for I'm on God's ride
I take a bow at the sunset before me
I am in awe as I see the night approaching
I take a swim into the waters of vitality
I am willing to dive deep into the waves that are leaping
I am a true dreamweaver
I have become a believer
I'm sure my future isn't a blur
I will endure this hardship for sure
There is a cure to the pain and sadness of life
There is a Savior that will set us free from mere strife
I know that life is so unkind sometimes
We just got to have faith, even in dark times
I'm waiting for the moonlit stars to shine their lights on me
I'm praying for a time when chaos and corruption will fade away
I'm staying right here next to you until the end of time takes place
I'm figuring out the footprints that lead to your gracious face
I'm an angelic dreamweaver
I was made to be a believer
I'm a genie that grants three wishes to the overachiever
I'm enjoying the thrills of life's bizarre experiences that knock me over
I'm a splendid daydreamer
In the wintery nights, flowing with elegant coffee and creamer
I'm a long-suffering believer
In the shadows of the light, glowing with satisfaction and pleasure
Mary-Mary, quite contrary, her garden does not grow.
There is no dirt, there is no fence---Not a greenhouse of any color.
Mary-Mary had a few little lambs, but they ran away from home.
Even though they are grown--She misses them so…
Mary-Mary has twin grand boys that she has never seen.
When she does, she will be so grateful and never want them to leave.
Mary-Mary is not so happy-happy,
Everywhere around is so sad.
There is nothing she can do, so she sits at home,
Eating split pea soup and no pie--
One day things will be calm again…
Till then… She is stuck and wonders what the heck--
How did things end up this way…
Damn it, I have no coffee creamer--
Things change and the dark clouds hovering over.
Somehow, some way you have to push through it.
Mary-Mary has her doggies, two--they will all be fine.
They are sweet…and silly…and keep her Company—
Licking her tears and reminding her to fetching the mail.
They take turns resting by her side and keeping one eye on the road.
“Crosbiee-- the Bumble Bee” Comes to visit and play.
And as long as they have Puperonies everyday--
Things will be ok… Copyright © fonda anne….mooreofme....mamao
Light
Wherever there is darkness there is also light.
Dark, dusty room, open a window: light.
Monday morning and black coffee triggers cringe,
Hazelnut coffee creamer turns bitter, black espresso light.
Bright eyed child, up and about at the cusp of dawn,
he whispers to the orange sun that paints his face: “hello, light”.
Behind red velvet curtains, she anxiously waits.
A debut future star waiting for her intro light.
The apartment still dark after the bill was paid
Sitting in an obscure unit, angry ‘cause they owe light.
There will a time when you feel it’s gone forever;
It will come to you in times of woe. Light.
You’ll find it, even in the underground
Where subway rats bask in that fluorescent low light.
Feelings of hopelessness and anger at the world,
Pay someone a compliment and bestow light.
Aspiring to be the person, at the peak of dusk,
to look back on a long life satisfied, because I know light.
Even in the vast universe of empty space and trenches
Up in the cosmos, far away, stars glow light.
Although she is taken by dark navy’s and midnights
Megan, search for it when there appears to be no light.
Garage Sailing Today
Buckle Up—We are Off…
Jackie, Elias, Winry and me,
Us and the kids—What fun it will be.
A Clothes rack is flying--
Move out of the way …It is a windy day.
A little girl screaming--she has a tight grasp
On my new cheese slicer...
An odd thing to want--if you are a child.
Her mommy said no--I had already paid.
I would offer to share--but it has a sharp blade.
I found a bread box—the old wooden kind.
5 bucks that is a steal…I sold it for 10--what a deal.
No said Jackie...They have enough toys...but I said
To infinity and beyond…Buzz Light Year…Is free.
From sale to sale—not much did we find.
The Children are hungry and we need some coffee.
You know Jackie’s got creamer.
Cheetos Do Fly...
I love you all dearly we will do it again sometime…
Copyright © Merri-Merri/fonda anne….
It’s what gets me up in the morning
It motivates me every day
Coffee
A normal person might say my dog
Or having to use the bathroom
Okay, a sad normal person would say that
Some things should just be legalized
Like letting me marry coffee
It makes me a morning person
Coffee puts a smile on my face
Even when I don’t care what the other person is talking about
Coffee makes me a better person
That’s what your partner is supposed to do, right?
Coffee always smells good
I’ll never smell stinky feet or sweat with coffee
I also love how when I take a sip it feels like fire going down my throat
Love can hurt, right?
Coffee can’t be perfect
Neither can your significant other
I just broke a million hearts
I’ve read enough love stories
I’ve heard enough love songs
Every single one is about heartbreak, getting over someone
Or hating the person you were with
Coffee would never leave me
Or cheat on me
Coffee wouldn’t care how clingy I am
Plus it would keep me warm in the winter
I’ll take my daily dose of caffeine over love, any day of the week
One cup of sugar
For the day before and having to wake up to a new
Two cups of sugar
For whatever stands in my way for the next 24 hours
I am invincible
I swear it’s not the caffeine talking
If I’m feeling sweet
Some creamer would be perfect
Hazelnut isn’t sweet enough
French vanilla is too sweet
Other creamers make my teeth feel gritty
Black coffee is too boring
But life doesn’t change for any of them
My mind is happy with coffee
Mindset is all that matters
While my friend complains about her boyfriend
I take a sip of my scorching hot coffee
To stop myself from saying something I’ll regret
Coffee you are a lifesaver
Rainy days, drink coffee
Sunny days drink some cold coffee
Mondays, drink a lot of coffee
When life gets really, really hard
Bring coffee with you everywhere
Put some creamers in your pocket
Always carry sugar packets
It’s not illegal to smuggle coffee
You’re just prepared for the worst
I’ve measured my days with coffee spoons
So far it’s working out great
Horn Haiku Conglomeration
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poets/top_100_poets_most_poems_all_time.aspx
A cinnamon roll
Such a true breakfast delight
With cup of coffee.
Are surrounded by
Limits which will have limits
Are interlocking.
No limit to what
I can ever do with God
Help and assistance.
Bright was morning sun
At end of day is darkness
New day tomorrow.
We will latch on to
Grabbing hold tight as can be
Refusing to change.
Criticizing, condemn
And complain limit all of
Your abilities.
Release we must do
Letting go from our being
With an open mind.
Definitely do
Also be understanding
And control ourselves.
Must have much feeling
Always are agreeable
Prepared to take part.
Believe and have faith
Until end of our own time
And to heaven go.
Jim Horn
Added that I just wrote but have exceeded
ten poems already:
Daily Sequence Horn Haiku
I started stirring
Woke up with poem in my mind
Turned coffee pot on.
Reached temperature
Inserted coffee circle
Coffee was pouring.
Filled cup up to top
Then I added my creamer
Stirring and stirring.
Finished my first cup
Gladly worshipped God of all
Falling on my knees. (Might need knee pads one
day like in commercial with religious people in it.)
If I were to wish
God's name would say when praying
I may meet His goals.
Wrote poem way God wants
Others can easily read
With a central theme.
So this I propose
God is one who always knows
Helps to understand.
Jim Horn
PS.
Is this pretty close
To how each of your days works
Just like all mine do.