Artchil Daug
John Doe On Caffeine - Poem by Artchil Daug
The fumes of the newly brewed coffee
escaped beneath the buzzing sound of my table lamp
as shadows heaved itself in the living room
on that cold January dusk preparing to swallow me in bits
as heavy traffic clogged the streets just outside the windows
bellowing both human progress and street children just
like any other day that passed through as regular as
it can be nothing unusual and no breaking the metronome
that started in a morning that brought no novel meaning
only the repeating mantra of the placid river across town
raining leeches on several teachers that went berserk
at school today because of a proletarian education without taste
like that nauseating bump into the local priest with all his
thou shalts and thou shalt nots and the moral acid that melts
the beautiful sunset reminding me of things more worthwhile
than textbooks, moral or otherwise; there I was
sitting down on my puny industrial chair frolicking over
sweet caffeine the sadness of the world with my dignity intact
but remain faceless in a society antagonized by differences
and the incessant assertion that all men are created equal.
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Artchil Daug's Other Poems
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nice poem.please feel free to comment to my poems as well.Thank you. (Report)Reply
A discerning and perceptive reflection of life. Creative. (Report)Reply