Posted by: John Looker | 17 December, 2010


Just for fun …


In a cup that’s as small as an empty egg shell
but deep as a well,

dark as the woods at night, as the ocean bed, as ebony
or repressed memory,

with its aroma
invoking the ascent of Man from the valleys of Ethiopia

(really? well … yes)
and its siren

invisibly alive
with the contained energy of bees in a hive,

more dangerous than wine
more exciting than sex (no, delete this line),

it’s the morning appointment,
the lunchtime assignation,
the evening’s tall dark stranger.

John Stevens 2010

The picture comes from Wikipedia which has most interesting entry on coffee, at:


  1. John,

    You made me smile with this – despite the fact that I am a committed tea drinker πŸ™‚

    I will subscribe and be back.



  2. Haha, I love this. I am a total coffee addict and spend many (too many) hours writing in my local coffee shop. The barista (Carlos) always stamps my card twice with a smile. I like that you didn’t delete that line – it rubber stamps the smile in the poem.

    Thank you so much for your considered comment on my poem… it really meant a lot and I shall definitely look at introducing that line clearly as to who said it. I’ve always imagined the bartender to be a Louis Armstrong type. Thank you again … have a wonderful year! and keep writing…


  3. Beautifully crafted and it perked me up at the end of a long day; just like a good cup of coffee, in fact. I especially like the closing stanza. Thank you!


  4. Thanks a lot everybody. I had fun with this one. The next (nearly ready) is very different.


  5. Your cup of coffee engendered this. Many thanks.


    The trees have tangled their limbs tighter
    this morning, the snarled hair of a dirty child.

    Shadows darken, seep deeper into earth.
    Unseen stones shudder, enveloped by new cold.

    The timid, squirrel and hare, risk the sun –
    the plummet of falcon, hawk, eagle. Talons sharpen

    against the friction of flight and air.
    This moment will be the keenest whetstone.


    • I like that! You should find a place for it on your own blog – and keep taking the coffee!


  6. Fun poem! πŸ™‚ Coffee with milk for me please! I use to drink tea too but when the children were young I dreaded having a hot teapot on the table, so I changed to drinking more coffee πŸ™‚ Coffee is a comfort and a energy booster; never knew it could be that exciting though πŸ™‚ In comparisment…? πŸ˜›


    • Thanks Ina. I think I was over-caffeinated when I wrote this one!


  7. I can relate to this poem. Boy, can I ever! Every morning into the French press and the start, and later on the continuation, of the day. A true poem–at least in my life.


    • I love coffee too much. But I detect a difference between American and European tastes: it seems you drink it more frequently but at weaker strength than we do – it all evens out in the end I suppose.


  8. This was a delight to read, John! I love the simile, the metaphor and humor. The last 3 lines were such a cool way to end a great piece! Cheers!
    Lynda πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

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