Debora Soramaki

My Coffee Cup - Poem by Debora Soramaki

My coffee cup
Lives with the guy next door
While he's making coffee
I go out to explore
Bakery goodies are waiting
For when I get back
Along with my coffee
Which I'll drink it black
Sometimes the ole cup and I
Go for a ride
With the guy next door
Who has nothing to hide
French vanilla's ok
Hazelnut, mocha,
Newspaper, then pay
Soon we're back on the road
And my cup will stay there
Next door with the guy
Who has dark brown hair.

Comments about My Coffee Cup by Debora Soramaki

  • (11/10/2008 8:44:00 AM)

    A true reading pleasure, It made me a little hungry , Debora, Thank you for sharing, (Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • (11/10/2008 8:33:00 AM)

    Nothing like that cup of java (Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Paolo Giuseppe Mazzarello (11/10/2008 8:24:00 AM)

    Spontaneity and linearity in a fine poem story. At the moment for a good use of nostalgia one would go to America rather than Naples (the coffee break is famous in the Vesusius's town, you know) . (Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • (11/10/2008 7:23:00 AM)

    fine narration of the taste and aroma of a cup of coffee...Nicely penned. (Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 4 comments »

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Monday, November 10, 2008

[Report Error]