Kids grow parents die
Looks jobs bosses partners change
In this dance of time
It’s true normal’s just
A dryer setting meaning
Tumbling in hot wind
So we all need things
To hold onto — tumbleweeds
Are so hard to hug
Friends dogs coffee God
Things that don’t just blow away
When storms are brewing
Spaces inside, out
Spaces life can’t rearrange
Unless we say so
We all need our rocks
To build our peace on, knowing
The sands will get in
Religious or not
Who couldn’t use a blessing
To get through the day?
Sunshine on your walk
Turning green leaves to silver
Burning mist away
A hug from your mate
A song from the birds outside
A kiss from your dog
Music in the air
Even if it’s rap — with subs
At the traffic light
Treats at the office
Coffee just the way you like
In your favorite cup
Some praise from the boss
Flowers with poem attached
Good news from a friend
A letter from Mom
Ink and paper memories
Nestled with keepsakes
Cosmic connections
Just knowing good thoughts, wishes
Are coming your way
Blessings: corny, true
Some things it’s even better
To give than receive
Chill rain, warm salt sweat
Commingle in runner’s rite
At pulsing temple
Dry gusts, humid breath
Weather patterns roil and clash
Cloud around his head
First flake of fall snow
Crystalline beauty, perfect,
Catches day’s last light
First flake of fall snow
Beguiling Goddamned gangster
You know he’ll bring friends
B.o.A. woos me
Kills debit card fee — too late
I’m feeling withdrawn
Here I sit, forlorn
So sweet, so ready, just like
Halloween candy
Lover’s sighs, baby’s
Laughs, fulfilling work’s rhythm
Monotony thrills
Coffee’s gurgling drip,
Lunch counter’s din, dinner’s peace
Monotony thrills
Making school lunches
And brewing up the dark roast
The job has its perks
Oops! Added too much
Yoda says: “Right state of bean
“There is no ‘too much’ ”
Joe from Sumatra,
Guatemala, Honduras,
Ethiopia
Golly Malawi,
Dominican Republic,
Zambia zingers
Jamaica mean pot?
I Haiti when that happens
Uganda drink it?
Tastebuds round the world
I almost forgot Java
Kenya believe it?
Sept. 29, according to someone, is National Coffee Day. Of course, so is May 16. And July 24 is just plain old Coffee Day, falling during Coffee Week. And August is Coffee Month. Sheesh. Not that I don’t love coffee.
One of my first haiku was about coffee, part of a batch of “Recession Haiku” on the Kansas City Star’s business page April 29, 2009.
Ruthlessly spend less
But cut out coffee? I cut
Out your heart first, Joe
Java (with steamed half and half — the breve latte) perked into a Feb. 2 “Buddha made me do these” batch:
We say namaste
To recognize the divine:
A breve latte
The breve brewed again on April 12, in “Half and half haiku”:
The breve latte:
Coffee, half and half equal
Heaven in a cup
Just keep that Equal
Or any other sweet’ner
Outta my latte
Can coffee poems
Be grounds for legal action?
There’s something brewing …
But barista barred
The barrister from Starbucks
No subpoenas here!
My tall tales can turn
Grande, or even venti,
Not good under oath
I would testify
That my waistline’s expanding
From all that breve
But if that’s what stops
My clogged up heart one fine day
I’ll go with a smile
Greg's Hack-u 