The Coffee

By Bruce E. Stoker © 2017

Coffee, Coffee, dripping life

Into my mug, repelling strife;

What imprudent beast or soul

Dare bar me from my caffeine goal?

 

In what plane would it make sense

To disrupt and make me tense?

To slow the sips that wake me up,

Those peaceful swallows from my cup?

 

And what lunatic might think

To pose questions ere I drink?

Knowing well there’s not a thought

In my brain ’til I take a shot?

 

What a dawning! What a buzz!

Java melts my morning fuzz.

What a jumpstart! What a burst!

That dark nectar, my soul has nursed!

 

When human likeness grows with sips

And warming smile shall cross my lips:

Did life emerge for all to see?

Did Juan Valdez himself brew thee?

 

Coffee, Coffee, dripping life

Into my mug, repelling strife;

What imprudent beast or soul

Dare bar me from my caffeine goal?

The Ubiquitous Flip-Flop, A Sonnet for My Wife and Kids

By Bruce E. Stoker © 2016

Sunny skies and warmer days coming soon,

Young maids, and lads, watching snow and ice pass

Now dream of, any given afternoon,

Traipsing, happy-go-lucky, in the grass.

Shedding well-worn heavy socks and snow boots,

They don brightly colored, closed-cell foam thongs

Best worn at the beach or pool with swimsuits,

Shuffling, flip-flopping down the hall in throngs.

O, what ignominy! To be shod thusly,

In the office, the classroom, in worship.

Why, you ask, do I quibble fussily,

Observing that this is not a cruise ship?

Please forgive me if I turn up my nose;

Do me a favor and cover your toes!

Coffee Sonnet #1

By Bruce E. Stoker © 2008
I know by sight those tasked to brew the beans,
Baristas young and pert who blend and grind
And pull strong shots from sleek, gleaming machines;
I put my trust in them to clear my mind.
Their pleasant banter pierces morning haze;
Caffeine induced, I’m sure, but I don’t care.
Undaunted by my sullen, grumpy daze,
They serve my cup of joe without despair.
It shames me now to think that this first draught
Is what I need to greet the day with joy,
That change is all I have to praise their craft,
That their spirit is what I should employ.
I sit. This simple mug, it should affect
A calm to pause, to think, and to reflect.

While My Sugar Gently Creeps (A Diabetic’s Lament)

By Bruce E. Stoker © 2008

I look at them all, see the donuts there heaping,
While my sugar gently creeps.
I look at my belt and see my navel peeping.
Still my sugar gently creeps.

I don’t know why nobody told you
Not to bring snacks I love,
And I don’t know why someone cajoled you
They caught and fooled you.

I think of the scales and consider its spinning,
While my sugar gently creeps.
With every sweet cake I will surely be sinning;
Still my sugar gently creeps.

And I don’t know why you came “desserted”;
You were subverted too!
And I don’t know why jelly was squirted.
No one alerted you?

I look at them all, see the calories seeping,
While my sugar gently creeps.
I look at them all.
Still my sugar gently creeps.

—With apologies to the Beatles….

Chile Life in Color

by Bruce E. Stoker 2003

Gleaming white,
Cut from fiery membranes,
Chile seeds dry on paper towels.
Inky black,
Musky aroma of moist earth,
Potting soil cradles dormant seeds.
Budding green,
Tender coolness of new leaves,
Seedlings absorb lifegiving rays.
Shimmering gold,
Waves of glowing, vibrant heat,
Sunshine stores itself in piquant fruit.
Vibrant green,
Bobbing in rare summer breezes,
Leaves shade raging chiles.
Flaming red,
Prompting both dread and desire,
Chiles flaunt volcanic flavor.

Vices of a Fat Guy

By Bruce E. Stoker 2003

Bacon sizzling in the pan.
Caramel drizzled over flan.
Chunks of beef in chile sauce.
Dressing coated cabbage floss.
Cream cheese frosted carrot cake.
Extra malt in chocolate shake.
Powdered sugar on fried dough.
Pasta robed with alfredo.
Shrimp and fish, lightly battered.
Scrambled eggs, hot sauce splattered.
Salsa dips with heat to spare.
T-bone steak grilled medium rare.

Stopping by the Office on a Friday Evening

By Bruce E. Stoker 2003

Whose desk is this? I stop to stare.
His name is on the name plate there.
He won ?t complain to anyone
About this pile of work to spare.

The janitor must think it fun
To see me stick just anyone
With tons of work from my own pile
So I can go soak up some sun.

He wags his finger for a while
Then asks me with a wary smile,
?You think the boss will never know
Your work ?s done through deceit and guile

?I suppose he could, if you know.
Just how far will a fifty go?
If you ?ll keep quiet, he ?ll never know.
Now just keep quiet; he ?ll never know. ?

Office Birthday Song

By Bruce E. Stoker 2003

Happy office birthday!
Your day is not yet here,
But still we must eat something,
And donuts bring us cheer!

Happy office birthday!
We celebrate your day
With songs and food and laughter
And for this the boss will pay!

Happy office birthday!
Let ?s sing and party hard.
Although we barely know you,
We ?ve signed this cheesy card.

Happy office birthday!
We ?re leaving, if you please,
?Cause someone in accounting
Has bagels and cream cheese.