Blue Mocha


My mocha should be chocolate brown
Instead it seems to me to be blue.
It should comfort me on this cold day,
Instead it just reminds me of you.

Because to me it just tastes bitter,
Each time I raise it to my lips.
Its warmth on my mouth stings,
Reminding me of our last kiss.

So that is why my mocha’s blue,
It’s because of you my dear.
You’ve given it a sad aftertaste,
The salty sting of my tears.

 

Nescafe Double Choca Mocha


Nescafe Double Choca Mocha

It’s a double choca mocha sort of day,
When the sky outside is dull and grey
My synapses need a swift kick,
Of a tasty double choca mocha hit.

The kettle can’t boil fast enough,
I hover impatiently with my mug.
Willing the water to just boil quick,
Longing for my choca mocha hit.

At last the kettle finally boils,
So the hot water I can pour.
The choca mocha I reverently sip,
Caring not that it burns my lips.

 

The coffee pledge.


I hope this spell of tiredness I am suffering with isn’t indicative of how the year is going to progress. Either that or I could stop staying up late to play Star Wars the Old Republic every night 🙂

 

Take the coffee pledge below before you drink your first cup of the day.

 

In coffee I trust
To cure my fatigue.
In coffee I trust
To fulfill my needs.
For an instant energy hit
For wakefulness for a bit.
To dispel my muscle ache
To dispel my vegetative state.

In coffee I trust
Above all else.
In coffee I trust
To restore my health.

 

 

My Hangover is a W.M.D.


 

 

My hangover is a W.M.D.
Threatening my bowels
And my stomach
With a chemical attack.

The United Nations of coffee
Fail to defuse the threat.
Despite the sacrifice of
A brave granola flapjack.

Operation Dr Pepper is launched
A sugar counter attack.
While a bacon sandwich
Leads a diversionary raid.

This gets off to a slow start
Until a red sauce sachet
Arrives to reinforce
The brave bacon battalion.

Fighting is fierce but brief
The W.M.D. is neutralized
And final resistance quelled
With an alka-seltzer carpet bombing.

Ode to my Coffee Cup.


Whether filled to the brim with coffee,
Or what passes for water from the tap.
You cheer me up as I lift you up,
And enjoy your liquid repast.
Then no matter how I leave you
It’s always patiently you wait.
Ever ready to refresh me again
When I’m working early or late.
So maybe your cup’s full of coffee,
Water or juice that stains.
Thank your porcelain pal
When you lift it to your lips again.

Frothy Coffee – a true story.


My frothy coffee
I sip with care.
But my frothy coffee
Makes people stare.
At my frothy coffee
T-shirt splash.
And my frothy coffee
Foam moustache.

 

Starting the day with a nice cup of coffee is a must, but beware !

 

Deus Ex Coffee Machina


Select choice of beverage.
Position cup.
Stand back as machine..
Gurgles,
Clanks,
Makes the sound of a tortured cat.
Then the hiss of an asthmatic snake.
Re-position cup to catch coffee.
Despair as frothed milk evaporates.
Note suspicious film on your beverage.
Pay outrageous price.

Consume.

Moan to colleagues about quality.

Do it all again tomorrow.

Coffee.


 

Management announces with regret,
The office’s saddest departure yet.
They’ll be no more caffeine fueled starts
As I’m talking about the coffee cart.

No more cappuccino and Mochas,
No more marvelous special offers,
No more service with good cheer,
No more cure for last night’s beer.

So when you enter floor lower ground,
And there’s no longer a coffee smell around.
Remember the faithful coffee cart,
In boosting morale it did its part.

The dread of entering my workplace used to be countered by the smell of fresh coffee from a real coffee cart that lurked in the staff entrance. Sadly the cart passed away many years ago and was replaced with a cheap self-service coffee machine. God I miss that cart , especially today when I could have done with a real coffee pick me up and not the old hot water and instant powder swill.

Anyway all this melancholy reminded me of this poem I wrote sometime ago to commiserate myself on the departure of the best office coffee I have ever tasted.