This is my raison d’etre:
You and this reminder
That things happen here
That don't happen anywhere else.
And this isn’t Las Vegas.
You hit me today,
And my hands are still shaking from the adrenaline,
And the lost causes, and the fighting chances that
Just don’t put up much of a fight at all.
And this fragile world we’ve built for ourselves--
Has been hidden away like caffeine in hotels
And cigarette smoke that was stale
Before I even exhaled.
And you’ve held me under water...
Under glass...under fault and since surpassed.
And today you swore to me that
Jews were bad for the economy:
That one day I would -learn-
And I looked up from my chipped coffee cup,
And told you that my father was a rabbi
…And an accountant…
And that I have learned.
And this bar has gotten so demanding lately:
Consumers stare, watch us sit silently.
...sip coffee
...burn dreams
...alliterate
All of our words for a conversation that
Nobody’s even listening to.
Waiting for their raison d’etre to become some
Peace of...state of...change of mind, or
Maybe just a little bit compelling.
And they wait for this:
For everything they know
To become nothing at all
Compared to the scenes
We make in coffee shops.
Author notes
When I was sixteen, I worked at a local coffee shop, and then Starbucks came and the business left. There were always too many employees on shift and too few customers to make tips, and we entertained ourselves by alliterating everything we said.
"Steven said someone stole his stereo on Saturday," and then someone else would reply, "Good god. Guy's gone through a gazillion of those god-awful gadgets."
We traded off on the letters we used daily.
But, when we did get business, we were always caught off guard, it was always the dodgy sort--the young couples with small children and big dreams and no money. We hated them.
And then, one by one, we became them.
Written March 13th, 2005
A contest entry
- The Coffee Anthology (Contest) by ea.
500 points, ended June 16, 2006, 19 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 12 of 12
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15 lines or less
But many thanks for entering my contest. Maybe you can trim it down to fit the contest guidelines? At any rate, this was a really nice poem. I love poems about coffee or cigarettes, or preferably both. lol
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*headdesk* I was probably too drunk to see that part. Sorry.
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Thank you! Congrats on not marrying the ex!
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Thank you. It makes me all nostalgic when I reread this poem. lol. ♥
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Thank you.
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Doesn't make much sense, does it? I wrote this when I was sixteen or seventeen, so I'm not surprised about that line really. I suppose I should've looked it over before I entered. I'll go back and do a bit of editing. I think there needs to be some better spacing and punctuation. Plus, the rhythm is just dreadul in some parts. I'll IM when I'm done and you can tell me what you think. Thanks for the silver, by the by.
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This is a very good poem with excellent imagery!. I enjoyed the comments a lot as well. You made me think what I would have been had I married my ex BF. I'm so glad I'm not married to him. Thanks for making me realise it. I'm happy for you to have won the SILVER! Congrats!
Charishma
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isn't this the truth. To be young and invincable again, to have those dreams that no one can put their thumb down on, and then have to grow up and become adults - tough I guess. Congrats on winning silver in this contest.
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Wow, another incredible write for ea! I thoroughly enjoyed this, kind of sad, and cold hard reality in the face, but I am sure some good times were had by all, and thanks for this reminisce, congrats on your silver!
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This is a powerful write. I'm not sure about this line "That the truth would soon befall to me" (the use of befall to me...)
Maybe "the truth would soon make itself known" ?
Please get back to me on this and don't remove the poem from the contest unless you are not interested in having it considered for the anthology. -
That is a good point. I think I chose 'rancid' only because of the definition. I wanted to expres that even things like water can go bad. I'll look around and think of a suitable replacement for it.
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super
I could read on and on your slices of dangerous life, and all life is dangerous, that's what you so often bring out in your poems. And is not danger our raison d'etre, so we will know our mettle? "You've held me under water - under glass - under fault and since surpassed..." another mind-boggling image. I would change Water gone "rancid" for something like murky, slimy, cloudy, foul, etc., you find one, because even though it's technically correct I make that switch from water to fats, which go rancid. But then, perhaps your water could go fat and rancid? Just a thought since I want you perfect...
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