Being sober’s
as overrated
as being drunk—
nobody wins.
You just have to live.
Home » Posts tagged 'coffee'
Being sober’s
as overrated
as being drunk—
nobody wins.
You just have to live.
Looking at the LA river
now, smelling it
more than I can see it.
There’s a pigeon
down there, drinking
down there, bathing itself
in whiskey and piss—
probably blood even.
Who knows really?
It could be the purest water
in the world, but I guess
only a choice few
will get the opportunity.
While the rest of us
get coffee, Dasani
and whatever else
man feeds the birds.
Listening in
on a socially
distant therapy
circle, I hear strange
certainty fading
with each spilled sip
of coffee, squandered
on psychosocial thoughts
in alignment with
the universe
always.
I was so enthusiastic to discover
everything about everyone
I was a Private Dick and ready
to solve every damsel in distress
Though everything and everyone
I touched who was beyond my understanding
Stood like the usual suspects
unaware of their crimes, I was
spinning round like a carousel horse, free
though beyond my own control, grease painted thin
I was taken for some silly clown
a misread fortune-teller’s sideways frown
Day tripping through town, I was told
I was flipping out, but over a rainbow I found
all that I had ever wanted trickling down
those front porch steps of that old rented house
And I was captivated by everyone’s truth
as if the words she penned from my youth
so effortlessly then, like I do now
Caffeine & Nicotine Us In The Clouds
sailing high above the unbearable doubt
Wow! Did I ever sail onward or did I just drown?
As silent as a mouse searching for crumbs
in the floorboards of some dilapidated house —
But come on we have the internet now
which keeps us farther apart than ever before —
What I thought wasn’t then is manageable now
as I pick from the parcel small pieces of how
brilliant are the stars before they burn out
And how I sought to discover what I’d already found
her peace with another brings peace to me now.
I’ve known a many artist in my day, say
Today old friend you come to mind
And how for a short time, your voice divine
Scratchy and old, though, you and I know
Age is just a number and it’s you who’d show
Me this: Dear, Gavin Heron Vante
Who needed a place to rest his weary head
For the night I offered you some bread
Where that night you had said, Ah man!
I haven’t seen this show in years, mind if I watch
Married with Children, Amen! Amen!
Then later I’d record you playing all the chords
I always had wish I could, watching your fingers
Slide and swoop through Sloop John B
I tried to sing harmonies but who was I kidding
Aloof in my eagerness to know everything and all
You had to offer and more, more, more I cried
Singing, drinking in the night like two old friends
Because we were in fact just two ageless nobodies
In the effortless night of somebodies
Giving me your time, cradling my wine
Looking through old photo’s now
I can still feel your spirit sing softly through
The air vents of my room
The next morning of course, saying farewell
Dropping you at Austin’s Coffee
Collecting your bicycle and taking the trash out for a buck
Needing my fix of early morning talkie
That I’m sure no one ever really gave a hoot about —
Now I hear you’re out of the Coma
That took you too soon like a phantom in the night
You were right when you told me
To take it easy man, oh man, Gavin Heron Van
Where there is no plan there in lies the plan
I now know the meaning of that age old saying
Those were the days, good sir, I give my praise
Sincerely,
Dave
P.S. There’s a place for you here, always
Warm sunlight.
Warm coffee.
Warm thoughts,
are enough for me
this morning.
What happened to that rain shower soul?
The sun’s still shining but where did it go?
And all those sidewalk chalk talking dreams
came loose like a button torn at the seams.
What happened to that day dream tune?
The song’s still playing but how bout you?
And all those streetlight coffee shop blues
aligned like the sun eclipsed by the moon.
Did it help to regret all that came too soon?
Like skipped rocks reflect rippled waters in June?
Cause that honey was sweet so I tasted it all
aware that no one dear could break this fall.
Did it help to indulge in the depths of the Eve?
If Adam were blind don’t you think he’d still see?
Cause more often than not two stars in the sky
do cross one another in the blink of an eye.
What a trip to be youthful, dramatic and bold
To walk just a block with those rain shower souls
But age without reason can make you quite old
I’ve stitched my last button, when you’re ready I’ll go.
I don’t want to be a burden
I just wanna sit here and read.
So if that’s ok
then the band can play
I’ll look up a couple times to see.
Everyone who’s silently cursing
checking out the latest feed.
There’s someone I knew
from another life
I look away so they don’t notice me.
It’s a living, a hard living
the barista says while pouring cream
a couple swirls and a twist
now there’s a swan swimming in my drink.
Guess I never really felt like drowning
I just swam in this misery.
I guess I can’t complain
I made my bed
skipped my prayers
now I’m counting sheep.
Guess I never really felt like dying
just romanticized how life could be
it’s like a game of chess
you protect the Queen
and die a King in your fantasy.
Cause it’s a living, a hard living
it could be worse is a common phrase
a couple riffs then applause
now the band packs their noise and leaves.
If I have to take a vow of silence
plead the fifth in double time.
With all due respect
I think I must confess
I cracked up like a nursery rhyme.
Still I can’t sing that song without crying
so whatever shall be shall be.
I guess the world’s the same
rinse repeat complain
the punch line never hit with me.
So if you’re living, a hard living
here’s raising this glass to you
and if you’re worried, don’t worry
there’s bound to be an answer soon.
Cause baby I don’t wanna be a burden
I just want to write my poetry.
Because I’m not a rock
or an island but
ain’t that the only way to be free.
I flipped myself
like a coin
then flipped again
just to see
if heads or tails
would land twice
like a pollinating
honey bee
I figured if I had a
50/50 chance
I might as well
take a look see
and feel what lie on the
other side of dying
rather than spend another
long day trying
to convince myself
I’d be better off another house wife
crying
into coffee
or screaming into laundry
relying on the offerings
of innocent smiles
casting unintentional
shadows on my coffin
of denial
marred by my own
self loathing
which like a
preacher’s devotion
I took such pride
in approaching
solitude
like a potion
endlessly encroaching
on my own
well being
I admit I was broken
so I flipped that coin
heads
then I flipped myself
tails
and discovered
this notion
that
heads or tails I was going
Going
Gone
with the wind
not a rolling stone
or a tumbleweed
not a nickel or dime
not a honey bee
no I was a wreck
cast far out to sea
but that’s just the thing
it took all that to see
moving West wouldn’t be
all that easy for me
no nothing is lucky
nothing is free
except the glow of bonfire
in the dead of tree
where dancing shadows
take form and
I’m just
understandably me — hell
it’s already 1:03
and I’m hungry
but
I’ve got no food to eat —
so call it in the air
no
on second thought
I’ll just let this one be.
When Hemingway writes
coffee
but doesn’t really
write about coffee
I crave it
Taste it
I smell it’s sorrow
And pour a cup
As the morning becomes I
And I the morning’s passing