Step into the Coffee Shop

              I adjust to the fragrance and wish
                  my mind would speak clearly
                     so my tongue could blister
                               —perfection—
              But I’m thrown off by such stoicism
              and allow for sighs to be exchanged
              through a meet
                                    and greet
                                              and depart
                  accompanied by weak smiles.

Is it okay that I never feel like myself around you?

                  Eyes step over and into the coffee shop
            like spirits being found; que es el Internet.
Es lo sí que es,
           I’ve seen it,
                I’ve felt it,
                     I’ve realized penmanship is a lost art.

You were waking and waiting for the rush
       to push sideways across the tracks
                                     like the breeze
                                     between
                                     breaths
    where bitterness balks on my tongue…
            And it all reeks in havoc.

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About Robyn

"If you haven't known insanity, you haven't lived."
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4 Responses to Step into the Coffee Shop

  1. wow!!! From beginning to the end…this poem spoke to me.
    You’ve painted a beautifully and outstanding poem.

    May I ask: what inspired you to write this poem?

    P.S Thank you for following me and liking me poem. Curious how did you discover me?

    Like

    • Robyn says:

      I like to search tags under poetry and read a couple stanzas until I find one that sticks out and then the rest is history. But your work is hard to come by, I love it!

      Mainly it is inspired by an encounter with a friend where we exchanged (more like he exchanged) thoughts on Whitehead and process philosophy.
      The first few lines outline how I feel like I have nothing intelligent to say, drawing on the sensations of coffee and moving into the disappointment that is faced with said encounter.
      The internet reference is in regard to his argument that drew a relative conclusion that one could blame this as one of the sources for mankind’s depleting sense of spirituality. The rebuttal I make in this is that it is not true (based on what I have come to know of its potentiality), suggesting that he is caught in old thinking.
      Lastly I am attempting to translate how my words are kept unspoken because I sense destruction as the only outcome if I were to submit to his anticipation, if any.

      But the general visuals I create in my mind are of human interaction in a typical coffee shop between cup and lips, strangers and even the lines that could form “across the tracks.”

      Thanks for asking by the way. I have often wished more poets on WordPress would explain their thought process somewhere after the poem. I’d like to compare my interpretation with their intentions.

      Like

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