Tag: coffee

a cup of coffee

.Reading time 1 minute.

steaming bright and bold
i am black bitter coffee
with the sun, rising

In this crazy world of ours… I want to be peace and to be love—and a little bit of whimsy. Anything else simply hurts too much. Aren’t we all beyond tired of the violence by now? Exhausted, really. We’ve seen world wars traumatize generations and we’ve watched empires rise and fall like storm systems shifting across the globe.
Where does it all come from? I do not understand its fuel nor this pathology of self-destruction. I am not sold on a superficial history defined by battles between so-called heroes and villains, saviors and sinners, the haves and the have-nots, and the blessed and the damned. All life is sacred. We are all worthy and beautiful.

I sit in the morning. Groggy, with recalled terrors from yesterday’s news—these persistent, ongoing nightmares of abductions, starvation, theft, genocide… and the suffering of children. Mania of distorted powers. And i try to just breathe and sip my hot, black coffee. We are steaming. With the sun, we rise again for a new day.

京のコーヒー

.Reading time 2 minutes.
Kyoto Coffee                                                                            

flowers startle white
in the black night
caffeine-steeped 
 and camouflaged in
e   l e  g a n c  e    
 i awaken 
all  enchanted
the wild blossoms are singing 
light          
into         new   day .

I wrote the original version of this poem about three years ago, after enjoying coffee in an elegant cup at a café in Kyoto. After a long talk with a good friend, the night was late and I cycled back to my small, secluded-away in a quiet and dimly-lit neighborhood near ancient temple grounds in Higashiyama, house. Along the way, I was startled to encounter these white flowers glowing out of the darkness—similar to the white flower on my black coffee cup just a short while earlier. What magic potion had I just consumed, I pondered, in the guise of an elegant Kyoto cup of coffee? Little did I know then, just how truly magical and extraordinary our worlds can be. And I was entirely guileless as to the adventure I’d unknowingly embarked upon. But here I am now, three years later, still traversing these caffeine-steeped nights of enchantment. And what has emerged? Worlds of poetry, beauty, magic, and a precious love—like no other.

So what it the moral of the story?
Surrender to the irrational demands of your heart and of beauty, to this wild world far too vast to be contained within the narrow confines of our minds. And something more magical than you could have ever dreamed of will welcome you, on the other side of night.