Poet to Poet- Journal Entry
5-3-14

Dawn graces us/
Hot Coffee & burnt toast
fills the air
Poet,

It's daylight now,
The nights seem so endless
sometimes.

Yet, here at the CoffeeShop
at the Edge of the Universe
Corner booth,
the waitress fills my cup
& smiles.

So many poems are born here,
So many minds hungering
or longing to create.

I wonder what poems
will be born today,

[enters Erroneous]
will it contain
the over grown vacant lot
next door?

will it contain
the hooker seated
at the counter
with the cigarette hanging
from ruby red lips?

will it contain zippers
being lowered in back alleys?

or cheap hotel rooms
rented by the hour?

(pause)

Poet: "No, Erroneous"

Here at the Coffeshop
at the Edge of the Universe
is a place for...

Letting the mind go,
letting the pen, the breath,
the movement of images
in & out of the mouth

go calm,
go rhythmic

as the rise
& fall of waves,

as one sits in the lotus position
over the world,

[Are you getting this Erroneous?]
Erroneous: "I think so, Poet"


Here at the Coffeshop
at the Edge of the Universe
is a place for...

holding the pen so lightly
that it scarcely stains the page,

holding the breath
in the glowing cage of the ribs,
until the heart
is only a living lantern
fueled by breath,

& the pen writes
what the heart wills
& the whole world goes out,
goes pitch black,
but for the hard, clear stars below.

Poet: "Understand it now, Erroneous?"
Erroneous rolls his eyes and gives up.

Poet: "I should close."
Erroneous: "Write soon, Poet
for you words
breathe life
into this old
bag of bones"

~SAS