Monday, February 28, 2005

Poetry: "Coffeehouse Cantina"

"Coffeehouse Cantina" by Captain Chambers
Copyright 2003-5 Adam Shea Chambers

Painted bricks of broken color

fragments of time on an abandoned wall

caffeine stains on

polyester cuffs

the dreamer...never sleeps.

Fires of the mental plains

frustration and ambition

dividing the mind when

the frailties of reality

have revealed an ugly truth

somehow, we persevere

the divisions of thought offer unto us

a balance

so long as our imaginative state

reigns as the majority.

Within our grasp we could

master night and day by

simply closing our eyes!

We define our dimensions;

climate is self-inflicted.

The smoke fills the air

is it the nicotine fires, or

is it the burning of inspiration?

Every day is the dawn of our awakening.

Velvet Java

encased in froth amidst

pirouettes of sprinkled Heaven atop

fluffy white clouds that


above a steam-laden surface;

the foundation of thought.

I begin with the quest

for picturesque words

the hunger

for what did not exist moments before

I ache inside for this

it swells, and consumes

and either pen, or brush

or fingers upon strings or keys, or

a voice painted on a canvas of air

the quest continues

never-ending, and

my last breathe

will be that of creation

and I sit


in this Cantina

with unruly characters

of shady and questionable origin

diversity is the key

and all is serene

in the minds of the infant creaters.

We spell doom for all

for ourselves

or we relish the victory within reach

it is a tale that is told by the singular

the constant

in infinite visions

the one is strong

and wise.

The clock taunts us with youth

the promise it could not keep

so in its defeat

we find our youth from our souls

and it begins

waking from dream after dream

only to find that

we are nothing more than a dream

and dreamers surround all that they touch

with immeasurable wisdom

the destiny of the Ancients.

Kiss the daylight away with your vision

make the light fade

and roll the film.

It is picture time.

Pictures in motion


the flicker never ends.


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