Divorce, Single Parenting, Dating, Sex, & Self-Recovery

Posts tagged “coffee love letters

and there she was… (a poem)

and there she was

i keep wanting to start every story
every poem
with “and there she was”
but it has become cliché

and yet
these legs
expanding out below me
on my phone IG account
and i don’t see it at first
but as i enlarge
and look closely
it is me
in the background
clearly holding my macbook air
in one hand
as i whip up migas
on the fancy-ass gas stove
at my sister’s cottage
in the lakes outside of new york

it is warm outside
but the fall is coming
and i am arriving at love
with this amazing woman
it seems like we have just met
casually, randomly
by chance and circumstance
of this webby woven world
of gadgets
online dating profiles
kisses with strangers
promises never fulfilled
by the right swipe

i miss you

at this moment
i find my aloneness
almost unbearable
on the first cold night
in furry slippers
and sipping
my bubbly water
wishing i had more information to go on
the photo is beautiful
but there is no contact info
no touching
only my imaginative
lyrical typing
like an idiot
poking the cold plasticized aluminum
into tiny stokes
black on my white screen
all alone
on a night
when almost anyone would do
a cat perhaps
an Asian massage therapist
not that
just alone

staring at my phone

and there she was…


this is not about her

OFF-purple[from a second wave – poetry]

in the brilliant purple top
her eyes are tired but happy
dreamy almost, as she contemplates
her coffee
her boyfriend
not me
noise canceling headphones
are piping in songs of loneliness
i’m not here for her
nor she for me
but there she is
with him between us
and a longing of memories
of a girl
once mine
with eyes that watered
with joy more than sadness
but that’s long ago
i’m not interested in that
repeating old poisons
and women who can’t
don’t know how
or won’t
dive down deep
to find the heart
something about her
the woman in purple
this morning
trips me up
gives me pause and flutter
even as her man is blocking my view
because it’s not about them at all
or the woman from long ago
it’s about me
this bottomless cup of coffee
and emptiness on a winter morning


not this perfect morning

coffee-morning[from a second wave – poetry]

coffee is life accelerated
love is passion multiplied
if i could have you both
in some saturday morning
i would be here
in this heaven
where i am not now
on the tapering end of a coffee buzz


tiny epiphanies

coffee-love-letters-350[from a second wave – poetry]

i’m certain she smells terrific
as wonderful as she looks
this young exotic and unaware
something from my high school days
i’ve got the scent in my mind
or is that the guy sitting next to me

she’s wonderfully pretty to look at
but the desire is for something else
and still i admire
i poem
i praise

i am looking for my own
a bit more my size and era
it’s wonderful how the heart jumps
at the idea of a woman
and the magic of that attraction
at (nearly) any age

across the room
she is stomping her feet in line
coffee just ahead
before she bolts on
to her day job

this then is a prayer
to god, to beauty and youth
to coffee and sexual desire
and the power to move mountains
start wars
inspire greatness
and tiny epiphanies


image: coffee love letters, 2014 cc

actively waiting in your absence

emily-blunt[from a second wave – poetry]

i’m just sittin here watchin the world
go round an round in search of
seeing these lovelies
before their excitable jolt
and then seeing the transformation
it’s a parade
at 7 am
in a ritzy part of town
with high heels
working non-working
moms girls women ladies yoginis
and i have the catbird’s seat
by the cooler
with an eye to the pastries
and imaginary lovers
as they stream by

wouldn’t it be amazing if she smiled
rather than looked so serious
wouldn’t it be cool to not be looking
to be curled around my someone
rather than scouting for potentials

since losing you
it’s been a bitch
things don’t feel quite right
it’s clear it’s not you i’m missing
it’s the skin
the soul
the kisses

for now, i have this
i have a women in a perfect tennis outfit
a bit rushed
she must have a court time
she must be a goddess
or a fitness instructor

i can’t fall in love
with a dream
with a passing leg or strong-arm
i’m not attracted to the convertible
she came in on
but i do fall into hair
of all lengths and colors
and the pull of desire
to bury my face the damp garden
of magic smells and warmth

i’ve been alone for too long
i can tell when my chemistry is faltering
i need a hit of something

and yet
i don’t want any of these women
i don’t know anymore
what criteria to use
or what measure of the soul

a body
in motion
is a beautiful thing
but it loses its gloss
when the light inside is dim
or diminished by anger
or too much pride
too fine a dress or heel

but without her
i know i am a shell
or a snake
in deadly wait state
ready to strike
against the glass of my cage
before i know
if i am predator or prey
i lie in wait
arriving at patience again

and now



[from a coffee love letter – poetry]

ember - a coffee love letter - poemsi want to see what you see
when the joy lights up your eyes
i want to know that it was me
who caused this wonderous moment
i want to feel how your skin
goes from chilled to flaming
i want to break off a piece
of this fire i know of
and place it inside you
so you too are warm
as we part for days
i want the glow to remain
so you know
i am still


no longer vivid

[from a coffee love letter – poetry]

lady in black - coffee love letters - poetryif i had her breast for a pillow
i would never get out of bed
if her hair were in my eyes
i’d cry and arc with joy
if some sound was still in my ears
from her joyous moans
i would remember to not be lonely
but the images are no longer vivid
the ache now from emptiness
rather than friction and fire


piano lessons and a show

[from a coffee love letter – poetry]

coffee love lettersas she looked back over her shoulder at me
beneath the black as night locks unruly
emotions ran high within me
she was ordering coffee
i was a chair
she was perfect as she looked up at the board
contemplating mixture and alchemy
i couldn’t hear what she asked for
i couldn’t think straight
it’s this way a lot
but did hear her laugh as she dropped change
into the barista’s glass jar
the wispy blonde with strong arms
and ink stripes
ready to rev up whatever you ask for
from the board
and she smiled at me and was gone
this is how it goes in my private peep show
behind this screen
in deep and lustful thoughts
or really more about the idea of dark thoughts
these are just words
she is just a girl
who ordered coffee
while i was waiting for my daughter
to finish piano lessons