Coffee and Crutches Contest

To generate some prompts, ideas and comments, this contest will be judged by your peers. Prizes are considered as comments you receive.

There will be no elimination rounds,however there may be more rounds depending on activity.

Coffee and crutches rules are to choose one of these words .... Coffee, Java or Espresso and write a poem about coffee as the drink.

The crutch portion of the contest is if you use one of these words in your poem then you must use all of these words. Cup, sugar, creamer, milk,bean, morning, Brown, sedan, tree, buffet, computer and foot.

Make your poem unique but it must flow well and make sense, be at least 3 stanzas long.

Forms are permitted but will not be judged for accuracy of form. To validate your poem for this contest you must comment at least two other contestants poems in this thread though if you choose to comment directly on their account please post here whose poem(s) you commented on.

If you are the first contestant, as a Thank you for generating interest in this contest, you may skip the two comment validation, however you are encouraged to comment as many as you choose.

The contest is being held in hopes of generating activity in commenting, writing and attention to detail. This isn't brain surgery so have fun.

Deadline Nov. 4th.

If you have any questions please feel free to ask. Please post poems in this thread as well as on your account. Non participants may comment in this thread as well.

Best Part of Waking Up

The caffeine in my cup
sugar in my candy
when I drink it all up
tobacco is dandy.

Many tests concluded
irregular heartbeat,
coffee has intruded
my sleep is incomplete.

Can't live without creamer
up on the computer
I am a day dreamer,
not such a straight shooter.

Barking up the wrong tree
with one foot in the grave.
A buffet is my cup of tea
often I love to misbehave.

Brown is the color of the sedan
that'll follow the traditional hearse.
I can't remember any morning better than
flavors of a coffee bean that's become a curse.
To milk myself for restraint may make it worse.

Flower Child Pajamas and All:

You know, before I moved here, I would've told you
that a good morning was defined by the way
you drank your coffee when you first got out of bed,
not the work on your computer or the leaves of the tree
changing color and falling out in the back yard.

I would have smiled and remarked that using the same
purple coffee mug gave the milk painted espresso
just a little more meaning while the two scoops of sugar
made the day seem sweeter than it ever actually is -
and I'd have laughed as we agreed that would be okay.

But now that I'm here and the world seems so different,
it's not about how you take your brown beans or even
the creamer inside - no, it's really not like that at all.

Really, life is a skinny vanilla latte, with warm milk.
perfect fluffy foam, and just a hint of something to taste.
And your day is what you make of it, especially
if you walk one foot in front of the other all day long,
like the rest of us do - the price of the sedan in the garage
and the buffet next to the bar make no difference at all.

**half way in response to a poem my mother wrote a few years ago, which can be found here:
http://www.friendship-poems.com/poems.php?id=1207015

p.s. Micheal, your piece isn't on your account, how would you like me to get your comment to you?

First, I would like to say thank you to you both for submissions. I am currently working on trying to write one also.

Remember if you use one of those words from the second list you have to use them all.

Adreamer, There are a couple pf missing words from the list in the above poem but I believe you can work those in with no problem.

Michael, you never let us down with your participation, thank you.

I will post comments to each poem on here as I feel its the hostly (is this a word lol) thing to do lol.

Okay mine is updated, I thought it just said you had to use one of them. I guess I haven't had enough coffee myself this morning! lol

Lol its okay thank you for updating. If yours is posted on your account I will comment shortly. I will await Michael to post his and will comment then too.

Ha ha ha, anything to draw me in, how can I pass this up.......lol

Bring it on sir!

Kitchen table gossip

Freshly brewed coffee beans
wafts upon ribbons of autumn,
drenching the morning
with memories of momma,

Vintage creamer cow paired
with matching sugar dish,
serve as centerpieces
for table and for gossip
long before computers would

Eight fifteen a.m. every weekday
like clockwork
the brown sedan arrives
parking under the pine tree

Screen door springs creak
entrance is made
of a frail woman
whom seats her self
and immediately lights a cigarette

As every day before,
it is the same when momma offers her milk,
she places her aging hand over cup
exclaiming,
I like my coffee like my men,
Strong and Black,
Laughter erupts from the kitchen
and travels to my room

Longing to know what women know
I tiptoe, one foot in front of the other
past the hallway to crouch beside the buffet
listening intently to grown up gossip

I got this.

(Great poems so far)

I hate to be a Debbie downer ,but I wanted to share a true story coffee lovers relate to

When my dad was going into his last surgery the nurse was explaining the drill , and asked my dad if he had any questions , he asked "when can I get my coffee."

My brother -in- law was asked by my sister if he wanted her to bring him his morning cup he told her he wanted to try to walk to the living room . he barely made it to the couch were he sat at the coffee table for the last time.

My poem is posted . I go for quantity were possible but quality is what I strive for

I love you all ,and find you stimulating

I'd Give My Love for a Cup

Let the storms buffet the trees,
just give me a cup of espresso;
I'll sit all morning carefree
writing (as winds strew debris)
on computer my manifesto.

Grind those coffee beans up fine
java must always be strong and brown
pass the milk creamer, be kind.
Out of sugar? Please don't whine,
take out the sedan and go downtown.

Go on foot then if you must,
brave inclement weather for my brew
this stuff is my greatest lust;
if you do this errand trust
that I'll ever have cause to love you.

Michael, First. i love your title. Catchy Commercial jingle that holds fond memories of a part of life for generations. You write of many of my weaknesses, caffeine, nicotine and sugar rushes. Yes, it's not healthy as you state in your poem causing problems. But, we are gluttonous for punishment, or at least I am. You close by saying it could be the cause of death, you are exactly right. Though your poem was serious in nature with the problems caused by overindulgence, you still seemed to make it not so depressing. There is still a lighthearted feel to the poem as if to say, I know my demons by name. Great job on writing this and including all the words. It was quite a difficult thing to do, as I know first hand. Thank you for getting in this poem first and starting the contest. You dear, are a trooper!

I think I will comment on the other poems also

https://youtu.be/zul4Ln-0md0

Love me some Dylan

^ Commented on Larry's and Michael's poems.

Title: Dependence

You became my high, my up when I
wanted to dig myself a grave and tie
one foot to a tree so I wouldn't move.
You called me every morning, when I
was hungover, milk spilled all over my
computer.

"Hello, Ms. Sugar"

I never responded.
You visited far too often, your
Brazilian coffee beans jumping in
your briefcase, leaving my brown
Sedan to sit in my driveway as
you occupied time I could have spent
driving in search of real love.

I spoke in fragments, coffee just a
nightmare on my lips as you tried to
pour me drugs and caffeinate my heart.

I offered you no creamer. You drank
your coffee black, harsh, jagged like
your love.

I won't be your buffet. I won't feast on
what I think I need to keep me moving.

I'll move on without your taste of
wicked sweetness.

Caffeinate me!

Aroma of warm autumn
O' hurry down to me
Revive my senses
with thy toasty smell!
Of thick,
creamy
musk of all drinks!

O' scent that takes me far
On a balcony
in the midst of busy cities
where I lazily rest upon a chair
above all the noise and hustle
without a single care

O' calming smells within
O' bitter-sweet elixir
of coffee
How do you alert me so?!
when the potion has an opposite effect
to that of its perfume

Kay loved the contest you posted..
Wish I would have seen it sooner. The poems are very entertaining. I enjoyed reading each one. We need more laughter in our lives.
First thing when I wake up I want my coffee and a smoke. I tell the Doc..I only have one vice I'm not giving up. Here's to all the coffee drinkers

The writer's buffet

That midnight swirl
Holding Steamed thoughts
From the tip of the cup
To the bottom of my soul

Dark and hot
Like many past lovers
Whilst I supplied the cream and sugar
Only to have the taste become bittersweet
Hence the word, past

Yes, just the straight bean for me
Almost better than breast fed milk
It wakes me in the morning
and tucks me in at night

I'll drink it on foot
In a sedan
And even in a tree
Writing, or on the computer
That brown liquid is for me

Cheers!

didn't really have time to spend with this, because my son is ill, but threw it together, used all the words even though i didn't need to...good exercise, not entering, just did it because i said I would, great pieces done so far

Wow, I love these, I can't wait to go comment on all of them. I haven't had much time today, but I'll do it tomorrow!

Still have until midnight tonight EST. to write a poem, remember it's not really a contest, more so an exercise and comment stimulator. Great entries so far I am trying to comment each one along with regular house duties.

Side note:
Bob, hope your son gets to feeling better soon. Thanks for the poem during a busy time.
Cindy, I know how much you love coffee so calling you out to get a poem done.

Revised Love for a Cup with Maddie's prodding. Much appreciated advice.

I didn't mean to prod, just gave my personal opinion :P

Zahra, you need to post your poem so we can comment on it.

Bob, ditto.

Posted!

Commented on

I'd Give My Love for a Cup
Kitchen table gossip
Flower Child Pyjamas and All

"Karma is experience, and experience creates memory, and memory creates imagination and desire, and desire creates karma again. If I buy a cup of coffee, that's karma. I now have that memory that might give me the potential desire for having cappuccino, and I walk into Starbucks, and there's karma all over again."

Deepak Chopra