Long Coffee shop Poems
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CHAPTER 11
KEROUAC
JANELLE FALLS ASLEEP ON THE BEACH AND WAKES UP IN HER PAST
Am I back? Am I dreaming again?
I needed to stay for awhile and make peace with ... with something I was apart of but left unfinished. And of course, find Jack.
You always knew when you just missed Jack. The coffee shop just felt a little different, a little empty without his presence. Once a shoe store, it still had rows of shelving on the walls now crowded with mementos that patrons brought in and left. Mostly photos, but there was a broken police baton that had been pulled from the hands of an officer during a protest. That actually held a place of honor just opposite the door where you entered. The one place that held no shelves featured a large cork board pinned with notices and pamphlets with the usual coffee shop fare. Dance classes, objects for sale, art classes, and of course, poetry readings.
You could be sure Allan would be there. A permanent fixture tucked away in his favorite corner with a cold half finished cup of coffee in front of him all the while ranting to a small but captive audience that had gathered around his table. He acknowledged me with a wave. As if to say ...
"Hurry, I need your help over here"
Jack once told me Allan chose that corner because of the acoustics. You would have no choice but to listen to his "enlightened arguments" no matter where you sat in the room. Jack always brought a sense of "self "to Allan's words. Pulling them down to earth for a more personal perspective.
"From rich to raw" ........... Continued.
Rita was visiting. She pointed off the road. Let’s go there. So we did. It was the CIA - Culinary Institute of America. Like Auntie Mame, my aunt was a world traveler, an adventurer. My parents were not. My first taste of different.
fancy and fruitful
red plums and pastry aplomb -
a close call with life
There is crisscrossing of paths. One of my military assignments was Oahu, where my aunt no longer a spinster (her dad’s old fashioned label) was living. I’d traipse off to meet her, riding my moped. We’d have lunch at JC Penny’s coffee shop. She’d be surprised that I’d travel so far but there was something wild and adventurous in my twenty-something blood; and we only had one car.
a moped useful
for trekking to and from, up
to island stars
My son was almost one when he traveled with us to the Hawaiian islands. He’d go much farther, to Guam, and meet the woman he’d marry. After becoming a submariner chef, he’d win an Iron Chef contest, which would lead him to mom’s hometown where he’d get two degrees at the CIA.
does God sow these scenes
lead us to places unseen -
wildest dreams are birthed
Life is an adventure. I’d not had the faith to believe that but God had surely shown me the smorgasbord. On the smorgasbord of life, I ride the waves, the crest’s exciting, the bounce inviting.
God’s faithfulness sets
a table with bread and wine -
prolific support
Sea waters seem stagnant during this pandemic. We are at a lull, missing people and our lives. We are starved for the loaves and fishes God provides. I must have faith, this time around.
hunger greets God’s word
creator-restorer of faith -
snowfall like manna
2/28/2021
Initially, we were cautious about speaking to one another. We did not know how each other responded to each other's posts. What ultimately happened was a strong friendship that continued to grow with each passing day. We would talk more about our lives to one another to the point that we already felt like we were together. We both said that we would follow our lives and speak to each other, that's more than friends. We will continue to teach each other the languages we know. There was one day, six weeks after our conversation began, when the first significant milestone in our friendship would occur. I had taken a friend out for dinner, and it was a time of happiness and sadness. When she came to the restaurant, she had already had enough alcohol to make her happy. When she ordered a drink it was strong as it was a pure vodka.
After we ate, I would take her home as there was no coffee shop to help clear her mind. When I first picked her up to go on a date, she kissed me on the cheek. I ended up blushing. At the end of the date, when I dropped her off at the house, she kissed me on the cheek again, and I would turn her kiss. Before I left, she still had one of my earbuds in her ear. She returned it and kissed me one more time. When you asked about the date with a blushing face, I told you of all the details except for what happened before we ate.
You took a while to respond as you were writing a long text. You said you were happy for both of us and that you would keep a distance. Well, your posts later on were directed at me, as I know you were not that advanced in education. I did feel some pain, but I didn't realize it would hurt you to know that I was moving on with my life. We would speak a week later, or we would talk constantly and grow closer. This would continue until you stopped talking; it would only focus on your sadness. But you never focused on anyone else yourself. It's pretty alright, and I have always had strong feelings for you, but those feelings could only be those of a friend. And this is how we all have our friendships, and it is best that we remain friends and not decide to go further. Only God can make that determination for us to be more than that. So, I bid you farewell and wish you all the best with your life choices. Remember, I always loved you.
The Last Time I saw Father
David J Walker
There he was
His face aglow behind the
Coffee shop window
Sitting
stirring a chrome-plated spoon
In the dark sheen of
Coffee sugar and cream
He looked up
Saw me
And became the moon as full
As the last days that October
could display
There he was
Taking a long last drag from his
Unfiltered cigarette
Crushing it out and
Disappearing in the
Gray smoke
His ghost-like figure
Starting the DeSoto parked
On the curb and
Driving away
Without a word
There he goes
A cloud afloat
in a puff
Of smoke
Toward a November sky
Someone in passing says they’ve seen us
somewhere. It could have been when
we were singing or reciting poetry. At first they
didn't recall the time or place we met.
They smile as if great friends when seeing
us, and we struggle to remember. Maybe we
were just out for fun, but in the other’s eyes
the event was bigger than life. The sun shines
on us, but it could have been night.
It could have been a night when we were
seeing friends over drinks in a bar and
grill on a one-way downtown.
It could have been in a coffee shop
where we read poems, and in the heart
of each person the words and lines
held a different meaning. The atmosphere
was warm, and we called it love.
Someone could remember the time
we walked along the sidewalk, and they
passed un-noticed as they drove along.
I was shy when I was in eighth grade
and asked the girl with red hair if she noticed
me while I was in a crowd below the balcony
where she stood.
O, how much it meant when she said yes.
Saunters along, nonchalance
Dimpled craggy chin, cracks a wrinkled grin
eye slits that see beneath, within
casino cards, in his jacket coat
his past, a lot said and wrote
whiskey drinks, smoke filled rooms
pallid, dubious men, the mark, fate looms
poker face that smile beguiles
“Frank the Devils Croupier”
deft hands, cards flew across the table
they all did fall, to card magic
his taipan strikes, fast and slick
was coined get “Dizzy” legendary
Texas Holdems sudden death
High rollers, anxieties shallow breaths
Turn card, tails flick, fat cats wile then wait
fish and whales swim through the losers gate
So the millionaires did agree
to pay Frank royally
retirement from the game
So if your up for a yarn do stop
At “Get Dizzy I’m All In” Coffee Shop
drinking taipan coffee shots, he’s that guy
smiles at people walking by
Entered “Bring a Character to Life” Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Richard Lamourex
Dated 25/08/2019
Placed 3rd with thanks
A chilly, wet, spring day when the icy mud melts just enough to soak your socks before you've even gotten to the car,
And all you can think about is getting to the cafe.
There's coffee there.
Everyone goes to the cafe on slushy mornings,
When the sun shines but wind frosts the eyebrows.
Today, it's so bad I wait outside the coffee shop,
Imagining the various flavors of warmth
Rivers and tributaries of delicious comfort
That steam my nostrils as customers hustle back to their cars,
Roasted beans tempt even winter's grip, daring her not to thaw.
Ah, to gaze through that glass, where each order is taken,
Where a few modest coins give so much joy...
And then, I pass through the doors as the line lurches forward.
Chatter and laughter create summer inside
Like fireworks between flirts and a carnival of cacophony
Humanity's warmth, deeper than the coffee in which it takes root.
Soon, I too have my name in the queue,
And my dream of warmth unnumbs my icy toes.
As my name is called, I carefully caress my beloved drink betwixt my palms,
Ceremoniously seasoning it with cocoa comforts and frothy cream.
I guard this small joy,
Bravely setting foot forth,
My joy apt, and sublime.
All too briefly enjoyed.
How fleeting I remember
When struck by the tragedy of ice
That stole my coffee,
Frosted my feet,
And dunked me frigid into a muddy puddle just deep enough to breach my collar.
How I grieved as life-giving brown sparkled briefly against dawn's daylight
Freed of it's paper-cup prison
Splashing hot pain across my face even as winter soaked my back.
I remembered the cafe's smells, and laughter, and blissful exuberance
That too briefly I enjoyed
Too focused on temptation's fate, a burned tongue, and warmed belly,
And I grieved her loss as she sprinkled amongst the snow and earth,
No longer mine,
And gone forever, save for a few drops' aroma
That yet wafted my empty cup.
I stuffed my pockets full of California minutes,
Set out from Bakersfield before the break of day.
Checked out a waitress at a coffee shop in Needles
Then blew through Flagstaff on my way to Santa Fe.
Cut loose and rootless, making random left-hand turns
Straight razor whiskey, gotta love the way it burns
Pulled up at Pueblo for my ration of tequila
Long after hours in the Garden of Repose.
I paid my lady love a call in Carson City,
Got tanked in Reno with a Sacramento rose.
Street lamps and neon on a warm midsummer’s night
Drawn toward the tunnel at the end of so much light
Broke bread in Stockton with a Guatemalan dancer.
Shook down a flop house called The Shady Rest Motel.
Laid low in Fresno for the balance of my paycheck,
Got back to Bakersfield in time to raise some hell.
I’m gonna ramble till the swallows leave for Egypt.
Gonna ramble till the Happy Prince goes blind.
I’m gonna ramble till I’ve gathered up my troubles.
Gonna ramble till I’ve left ‘em all behind.
Might put my suitcase under the bed,
But I always leave it packed for later.
I went to a coffee shop on a Friday morning.
When the young lady working behind the counter;
Without provocation and giving no warning;
Laid me out with a smile, a welcome, and a good morning.
Conveyed with conviction, it was touching and heartwarming;
So, not just hot coffee which warmed me that morning.
Whenever my touring took me near that shop,
I always made it a point to make a stop.
The young lady would hit me again and again;
With the brightest of smiles, a welcome, and a good morning.
And it wasn’t just me she treated in this manner;
All who came in received the same banter;
I had only been there but maybe thrice;
When it occurred to me, everyone in the place was nice;
It seems that smiles and kind words are some sort of disease;
Contagious and infectious they spread through a place;
And soon are emanating from every face;
I hope that I have made my case,
That a smile and some kindness can vaccinate,
From the depressions that afflict the human race.
I watched two people sitting side by side
In an old Parisian style café
Eating croissants, sipping cappuccino and sharing
Glimpses of the past, present and future
With one another.
So completely mesmerized with their deep - space eyes,
The thought of me, anyone or anything else
Could not have been more than a fleeting speck
Of sand across the corridors of their timeless time.
Such is the mutual attraction of those in love,
No less than the allurement of
Planets, stars and galaxies
Swirling all around and high above.
Ultimately causing me
To stop and wonder how
Long, this ethereal dance of cosmology and biology
Has been in motion.
While it’s nothing but a notion
concerning coffee shop masquerades,
These lovers left me stirring
A fresh cup of curiosity
Along with my
latte’.