The bitter taste of morning brew
delights my weary heart;
it sparks in me the rising sun.
Coffee, we cannot part!

We move through the night,
though the streets seem empty,
we look left and right,
electric vehicles are stealthy.

As we exercise stepwise, sunrise happens.
and black night fades its cover.
Like phoresy, painted, pieces of heaven,
the day opens with primary colors—
reds that delight, oranges that tease
and peacocking yellows that leaven.

As the counterfeit rainbow enchants and rouses,
streetlights waver and douse,
lights flicker on in houses,
and the earth blossoms active in borrowed hues.

Morning twinkles with its particular, angular light,
as we enter the still still lobby.
They’ve already set out the coffee!
With a sip, I feel the morning's started right.
.
.
Songs for this:
Day Tripper by MonaLisa Twins
Our Day Will Come by Amy Winehouse

"hier encore, j'avais vingt ans"
standing still in your kitchen with red walls
watching you make coffee in that small moka ***
while whispering the songs we danced to the night before
beneath that turkish lamp your mom bought a long time ago
and your lips met mine as charles aznavour sang along
tasting of the red wine we drank all night long

"mais j'ai perdu mon temps"
while waiting for something more
holding onto that empty mug in my hands
now cold as the kitchen floor we once danced
that one night in october many years ago
yet our silhouttes are still spinning around
as you hold someone else in your arms now

à présent, j'ai vingt-deux ans
standing far away from your kitchen with red walls
watching you make coffee in that same moka ***
while whispering how you never felt this way before
beneath that turkish lamp you lit up a long time ago
you take a sip from your cup as you look into her eyes
those big coffee-brown eyes, just like mine

A compulsory breather is needed.
To keep myself sane,
to maintain a calm outlook.

Coffee: The essential material for crafting the happy face mask.

Why my favorite coffee cup
You delight my soul
The roundness of your body
As you fill me with your taste
The texture of your glace
When I put you to my lips
And though I bought you In a shop
With money from my labour
I know you never
Truly
belong to me

Who am I in this vast, open earth of different species
A species of the human race created from a clot of blood in the womb of a woman
One of a billion or more humans all created in the same way
But why was I created, what is my purpose on this vast earth
For surely nothing was created without purpose, otherwise why create at all?

So I was born in a hospital somewhere and there was happiness all around upon my arrival.
A new addition to the family someone to carry on the family name
I came into this world crying and all around me people were laughing with joy
If my arrival brought happiness why was I crying so much?
And so begs the question who am I and why was I created?

Like all humans, I was given a name to identify and make me unique.
Different cultures have different ways and different ceremonies to name their newborns.
But how come of all the species on this earth only human beings have names
Why don't animals, birds, insects who also produce offspring don't give names

So why was I created and what is my purpose on this earth?
I am still trying to find that out, just like a billion other human beings
After all, it cannot be that we were just put here on this earth
Everything that is here was put here for a purpose, a reason

I am sitting at a roadside café relishing the taste of freshly brewed coffee.
The waiter who brings me my coffee and croissants knows why he is there
To ensure the food and drinks I have ordered get to me on time
The right things are delivered to the right people at the right time

I also know why I am at the roadside café sipping hot coffee and enjoying hot delicious croissants.
I am searching for the answer to my lifelong question
Who am I?
I gaze deeply into my coffee, hoping to find the answer there
But all I see is a hot brown liquid with a fresh sensory smell

Coffee is funny.
It makes your heart race,
your eyes wide,
your mind loud.

But sometimes,
it makes you calm.
It feels warm,
like quiet inside.

So, what is coffee really?
To wake us up?
Or slow us down?

Maybe it depends.
Maybe it's just there
when we need something.
Something to hold.

I was sitting at a table in a café when she walked in.

I said, “Hey, good-looking stranger— would you like a cup of coffee?”

We were laughing, drinking coffee—

when suddenly, she caressed me.

We were heading straight to the wedding—

then I woke up, needing coffee.