Long Arabica Poems

The George Chronicles: The Plan of Darkness: 3 part series

As the Eastern sun breaks way through my 6 panel discolored window 
I glaze in amazement as to how I survived another day.
The night before I...

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Bob, the cat, lives in the room number 13 of the sixth avenue.

He likes fish, rollercoaster, ice cream cones and Sunday papers.

He's an artist. He's a painter. When people ask him about his latest work,...

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When the Goddess of aroma
graces my caffeinated soul, 
her milky quartz crown 
                     shines in...

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though you may not be a trucker
never have driven a semi with your CDL
never 
ever
even thought of coasting up above the open road
putting thousands of miles beneath your cap
to the tune of
“east bound and down”---
you...

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Coffee beans, a world in a grain,
Roasted and ground, a caffeinated refrain.
Born in the tropics, where the sun meets the shade,
A journey unfolds from bush to brewed cascade.

In the highland realms where the arabica dreams,
And...

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Our screen door creaks noisily
And is for us the sound of solace.
Pale green walls and wood floor polish
Absorb every footfall with relish.
Cold tiles demand their sneezes
As I reach for towels and slippers.
A sleepless night has...

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A clatter of human hooves
drums on through an after- dawn marketplace…
the wide tunnel of  mouths
reel from the splintered chorus
of jangled tunes bargaining and rattling
papaya, arabica and sushi roll orders: a fiesta 
of succulent aroma...

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The Only Star For Me

It’s my corner coffee shop, Starbucks 
The cheer starts here with hot coffee
I’ll get yours, it’s nothing, awe shucks
A home away from home, my family 
A blended Frappuccino, at lunch to...

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It's not the cup but the coffee within.
Arabica beans, fair trade
organic and shade grown
often from a woman's cooperative in Peru
then roasted in small batches
by a local roaster.
I like mine dark  
but my wife likes...

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Down in the puddle of a Pig pen hole, 
Caught me a Fish with a garden Mole. 
The Fish got battered by a chip shop man, 
Ate it for supper watching Jackie Chan. 
 
Chan...

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Mellow few minutes to ease into the morning 
Opportunity to take three deep grateful breaths 
Rhythmic nonchalance kicks routine in slow motion 
November cold dreary skies peer through my window 
Impeccably roasted Arabica beans… b...

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The care of a wine seller,
We kiss in sibilant hiss,
Old Jamaica on her lips,
I can feel a touch of gin
A fleeting jinni,
Playing roulette in my breath,
I hear notes; semiquavers,
When our head turns, tongues churn,
In opposite...

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Whispers at eve marry wisps of steam over red eye
And beneath the table my feet finds yours for a footsie
Where we hope God's seven eyes will not see,
No wide-eyed moon, nor the barista to pry.

The...

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From the tomb of life my poor heart does bleed
The depth of my grave is so deep I see
I struggle to breathe rich fresh air I need
To climb those deep grave walls to be free

It...

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