another coffee
another coffee virtually
in spirit with you
to the spirit of you
one sip, a reverie
a drifting toward...
one more sip, another
line of poetry
coffee and music
and poetry and you
flowers and sunshine
and thoughts and dreams
a lament or two
of what was, could be
and seems all right now
there was a better poem
maybe a shiny gem
in yesterday's coffee
that slipped away
for not picking up a pen
what a disaster
forgot my phone at home... eh
amazing sunrise
a weight on my heart
the sun rising in your eyes
sunflowers abound
not so concerned
about that ego thing this
partly sunny day
wanting so much more
with so little precious time
move forward, old man
jotting in the margins
some stream of something
maybe consciousness
some flow of thoughts
spewing from the
gutter of my soul
an urban spring of
wouldas and shouldas
mixes well with spirits
in a glass over ice
i listen to a song
twice and boom
tens, hundreds more
versions covered by
every tom, dick, hasan
ayşa, kevork, maryam
relentlessly singing
fadeling me up and
hoying my nazan with
the same fucking thing
i wrote about coffee
the darwishian kind
voila, tons of little clips
arabica styled
fayrouzed and
khalsoumed in
little ornate demi
tassy glasses foamy
with a wisp of steam
flowers and gardens
nature and siren songs
of some kind of love
we all long for
so i wrote a poem
maybe thirty
all about love
requited and un
etudes and sketches
romances fantasized
woulda oil painted
'em if i could
now my feeds
on the big two
owned by one
social medias
keep endlessly
feeding me
a cesspool of
syrupy sugary
greeting card
artery clogging
little ditties
beautifully graphicked
lovely muziked
perfectly fonted
romantic drivel
soulmates, this
finally found you, that
known each other
past lives, millennias
reincarnated crap
like my very
own poems
to be algorithized
algorithmed like this...
did they read my soul
invade my heart or
my armenian liver
has it all shown
how trifly trivial
easily mapable
sadly shallow
predictably pathosetic
all this stuff
i wrote and
overwrote and
emoted over and
pounded into
these mediocre
offerings
it ain't magic
it's shit
the empty page
it looks up at me
indifferent but resolved
defiant and challenging
benign in daring me
to touch it with the pen
the blank screen
this etch-a-sketchy
electronic first cuz with
its carefree mocking glow
a buzz only dogs can hear
this monocular orb
just watching, just waiting
to see if i'll ever
keystroke
my heart just melted
into a misty something
deep and bayyati
a mere offering
to one with a heavy heart
the sun shone briefly
looking upon you
singing and dancing, happy,
a white rose blooming
