By Bruce E. Stoker © 2017
Good morning! Cold stare.
Grunt and mumble. Grab a mug.
Coffee. Good morning!
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?
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.
Coffee Riff #2
by Bruce E. Stoker 2003
At six-fifteen I drink cup one
From mismatched Corningware.
My day starts right, I ?m on my way,
But it barely gets me there.
At seven-ten I need cup two.
It comes in Styrofoam.
It ?s hot and dark and perks me up;
But it ?s not as good as home.
By eight-o-one I pour cup three
Into my favorite mug.
It ?s nearly clear and barely warm
But I have to take a slug.
By eight-thirty I ?ve drained cup four,
Which came from a machine.
It tastes just like old instant soup,
But at least it has caffeine.
Coffee Riff #1
by Bruce E. Stoker 2003
At the crack of dawn, the pot flips on,
My coffee starts to drip.
Hope that first hot cup is strong enough ?
With two hands I take a sip.
A caffeine flood jumpstarts my blood,
My mind begins to race.
The fog I had when I awoke
Is gone without a trace.