She sits...
posed like
porcelain.
Alone, beside the
wall of local art.
Auburn hair
against
a brightly
painted background.
Eyes so blue
you could sink
into them
and be lost.
Behind the icy cool
gaze,
Of unreadable things.
Tattoos peek out
from under
silken black
leaving one
unsure of
where it began
and if it ends.
You find...
yourself
waiting, hoping she will
look up from
her cup of
vanilla
coffee...
and her
delicately beautiful
lips will curl
slightly at you.
listen to poems
flow from
her perfect mouth,
and feel
words wrap around
you.
it is easy to
see why
so many come
to hear her read
every Tuesday
sometime
around nine.
Author notes
There was this little coffee shop, in Massachusetts that my cousin took me too. It was full of local art work. There was a stool in the corner where the “big” local artist’s, hung their work. Next to the stool was a microphone and a tall table, that someone had made using broken cups as mosaic tile for the top. I always imagined, a tall sexy women sitting there in a black dress, sipping a tall cup of coffee, while reading from a notebook of scribbled poems in front of her. I loved that little coffee shop, it felt inspiring, like being surounded by a art hug. I would love to one day return with a notebook of my poetry and sit on that stool and read, while I sip a tall cup of coffee!
Written June 13th, 2006
A contest entry
- The Coffee Anthology (Contest) by ea.
500 points, ended June 16, 2006, 19 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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I like the sense of this poem and especially the bio portion which adds depth and interest to the write for me, as the reader.
If you are amenable to including this in the anthology, please IM me with your name and state and any details you want to have appear in the end notes. Also, please don't remove the poem from the contest until I have announced the book. This will allow easy access to your poem and allow me to contact you with details. Thank you very much and all the best.
Edited on Jun 18, 4:28 p.m. because ''. -
Great read
ahh, place of inspiration, what would we do without them? Mine happens to be a little more solitary. Down at the marina, midnight, no one around, just random people driving by every now and then, the moon shining off the surface of the glass like water, gentle waves sing the song of sweet serenity, as the stars shine just wanting to be admired, and admired they are in the eyes this lowly poet, just wanting something to write about. ^_^
I love the poem, I think I've seen that women before, she walks in and out of the most graceful words that can be expressed, beauty admired for generations.~_^ -
wow this is a wickedly awesome wonderfully written poem here
I liked this contest you entered and I really enjoyed how you spoke about what you wrote in the author's comment box. great write all round and as always love your poetry. Paul
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WOW! What a beautiful feeling emanates from your words. I felt like I was transported to this coffee shop and enjoying listening to this divine lady and having some delicious cold coffee sprinkled with chocolate chips and a dash of mint! The layout and imagery of your poem is beautiful and the background very lively and lovely.
All the best,
Charishma
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This is a wonderfully written poem.
I love the imagery of this and your descriptions of this little coffee shop. It sounds like a great place. Somewhere that I would love to visit one day. By reading this, I can tell why you long to return there. Great work and best of luck in the contest! Thanks for sharing this!
Allen0826 -
Mm. I can see it. I know exactly what you mean by an inspiring coffee shop; I used to sit for hours in this little place by the window, watching people rush by and get on with their lives, unaware of their audience. It felt like an embodiment of art itself.
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