ruff notes w/ Turkish coffee, by pd lyons

So sometimes I am in this place of what I call incognito poet. Like even if you could or would want to follow me every minute of the day(s) nothing remotely  resembling writing of any kind goes on. Maybe email stuff or lately working a final edit on a collection but nothing else is going on. Certainly nothing poetical.

The days are fine, or not. The drink is occasional or more. The life goes twitchy tumble or smooth and fine a something silky with out the death or torture of a single worm.

so

it goes

sitting up with the 6 o clock coffee

another morning reminiscent of the one before

for no apparent reason

i get these lines in my head

a lonely lovers kinda of thing

four or five lines

by the time i think i should jot it down

you know its gone

 

well not quite all

there is a bit of a linger ~

 

your tears like stars found light in the dark

 

and I think yeah I can work with that

~

Turkish coffee

well

the morning owes me that

maybe later I find something to write on

maybe

but you know if you cave in to the muse

won’t she despise such boyish weakness

never chase any woman

even if you don’t end up arrested

you’ll be rejected

so

maybe

 

 

Your

tears

like stars find

light in the dark

nothing else

 

.