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Array ( [sid] => 114647 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Redundant Café [time] => 2006-02-11 14:13:51 [hometext] => [bodytext] =>
I was here yesterday wearing the same black coat
My table in the corner catching the afternoon light
The newspaper neatly folded to my right
It was bad news I didn’t want to read it
Thoughtless dogs of war ripping at each other’s throats
I couldn’t understand it
I didn’t want to acknowledge it
So I never read it
Bitter coffee on a cold winter day
It burns my tongue and makes me forget
Why I live here in this God forsaken place
Heavy sweaters pilled from too many washings
Salt stained boots all about function
Hand knit scarves were Christmas presents
I was here yesterday wearing a red sweater
Thinking spring isn’t that far away
Trying to warm my hands around the steamy mug
Playing that familiar game of wait until tomorrow
Buildings washed in failing gray light
All that February can muster
I remember my turquoise sundress and yellow sandals
The feel of a warm breeze on my bare shoulders
The grit of sand between my toes at the beach
I long for those days, need that intensity of light
I was here yesterday wearing my beret
Pretending I was someplace else
[comments] => 5 [counter] => 232 [topic] => 21 [informant] => Merry [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 8 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
Redundant Café

Contributed by Merry on Saturday, 11th February 2006 @ 02:13:51 PM in AEST
Topic: Lifepoems




I was here yesterday wearing the same black coat
My table in the corner catching the afternoon light
The newspaper neatly folded to my right
It was bad news I didn’t want to read it
Thoughtless dogs of war ripping at each other’s throats
I couldn’t understand it
I didn’t want to acknowledge it
So I never read it
Bitter coffee on a cold winter day
It burns my tongue and makes me forget
Why I live here in this God forsaken place
Heavy sweaters pilled from too many washings
Salt stained boots all about function
Hand knit scarves were Christmas presents
I was here yesterday wearing a red sweater
Thinking spring isn’t that far away
Trying to warm my hands around the steamy mug
Playing that familiar game of wait until tomorrow
Buildings washed in failing gray light
All that February can muster
I remember my turquoise sundress and yellow sandals
The feel of a warm breeze on my bare shoulders
The grit of sand between my toes at the beach
I long for those days, need that intensity of light
I was here yesterday wearing my beret
Pretending I was someplace else




Copyright © Merry ... [ 2006-02-11 14:13:51]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Redundant Café (User Rating: 1 )
by shelby on Saturday, 11th February 2006 @ 02:37:37 PM AEST
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Merry, incredible images flowing within this write. I understand this so well.

Michelle


Re: Redundant Café (User Rating: 1 )
by poetmarie on Saturday, 11th February 2006 @ 03:04:24 PM AEST
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Great wording. It doesn't need any explanation, you conveyed the point very well here. I think we all have felt like this.


Re: Redundant Café (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Saturday, 11th February 2006 @ 03:16:16 PM AEST
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I really like the way this reads and the sharing of your thoughts.Can well relate to such a gloomy February day,yearning for warm summer days,

Den


Re: Redundant Café (User Rating: 1 )
by Silent-No-More on Saturday, 11th February 2006 @ 11:06:58 PM AEST
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I'm sitting in New England with a blizzard heading in my direction tonight (ugh!). Ah, but... my thoughts have me hundreds of miles away, lounging in a comfortable chair on a deck overlooking the ocean... another time, another place, another season. So.... yes!... I can definitely relate!

I like the presentation here... it feels/reads as if one is sitting next to you overhearinng your thoughts. It's the detail that pulls the reader in, I think. Nicely done.

~Snemmy


Re: Redundant Café (User Rating: 1 )
by Spike on Wednesday, 24th May 2006 @ 07:21:22 AM AEST
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Such exquisite social construct and perfectly enunciated inner states, seamlessly blended -me, I just go to a cafe and sip my half-caf decaf with a lemon twist - but we at least share the dream of desert stillness and dry air. You could render going to the loo poetic (pooetic?)

Anyway, the sun's shining somewhere, probably on fashionable, totally impractical shoes.

Spike




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