Friday, September 12, 2008

Sunday Scribbling #128: Coffee

[And besides], sleek black misses the whole point, doesn’t it? Conveys/signifies a noire when in fact that’s entirely beside the point. There was no bête certainly, well, at least not yet surely, and decidedly no noire. There are angelitas 3 Marys, say, praline, say, brown sugar, not Mick’s but brown brown sugar and then there is sleek black. But s/b was only in s/b - encased, sheathed, muscled, gloved, hand in gloved, okay, yes, the hair but – you see how I resist the naming. And that’s it. Angelita that resists further demarcation, praline that resists, coffee that resists, café au lait you offer, but that sets us again, and erroneously again, off the bête, when what’s called for is the slow titration of one cup coffee, dark (okay, yes, at root, aren’t we all, this conceded), sugar added, but then what is it – milliliters?, dollops?, no, you’ll lose your way in, dollops will take you past the point of no return either starting again or a larger – you wouldn’t call it a mug, now would you? Where would that get you, pray tell? Mug? Ceramic bowl? Cup minimizes the whole thing, where’s the poem in that? Cup. Mug. What would hold this x, and even mathematics, save perhaps calculus, no, even calculus misses the mark, you see what she was/is has a sound for the eye. A sound for the eye. Breathe. Say it again: relax: breathe: a sound for the eye. The way green collides with/diffuses blue your feet in one or both, sitting on a rock (stone) you’ve set in midstream and your son puts his wet naked back up against you and the very thing you were saving yourself from is upon you anyway. That color. Forget the color, forget breathing, forget tiptoeing on the ice. It’s right there, right there under your nose. The point of contact saturates pants, shirt, and anything else you might or might not have on. Might or might not be carrying. You might even say, if you recall the light brown bug on his light brown back that it’s one or both of, because now proximity lays waste the need – need? – desire to rhapsodize, extemporize, all the lab equipment broken glass on green lawn, because the color is nothing if not contact, saturant. Saturn, only the way he sez it: saturan. Saturan. Stretch it out. And as you do, stretch out beside him, shelter, Jupiter’s storms are never wary. Vary even less, and what was sleek black dissipates into an odorless rainbow of what not that answers to no one, no place.

Labels: ,


Blogger San said...

Half-and-half. An equation with Beauty on one side, Beast on the other. Add sugar, brown or white, add cream, or half cream, to the belly of the beast. And beauty hiccups.

6:41 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

That's a jelly-belly beast. No harm in that, eh, sister? In lovely blue hic-cups.

6:51 PM  
Blogger Devil Mood said...

Wow, I would call that a coffee-coloured-rollercoaster!

7:05 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

DM: It do roll, don't it? Better a beignet-coaster, perhaps, no?

7:07 PM  
Blogger Granny Smith said...

Surrealism served up black. Tasty.

2:32 AM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Granny Smith: Black, with plenty chaser.

6:34 AM  
Blogger jsd said...

oh bitter and hot, what was i thinking, yes, here's the sweetener, the cream, mmmm, heavy cream on top too, oh just right, just so indulgence.

10:17 AM  
Blogger murat11 said...

jsd: And I don't even drink the stuff anymore, after my summer road trip indulgences. That's a tough sacrament to pass up.

1:29 PM  
Blogger B. Roan said...

Whew, that was a wild ride!

5:33 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

After effects of the java, B Roan. Thanks for the visit.

7:35 PM  
Blogger tumblewords said...

Wow - what a read that was! Nice work.

9:24 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Thank you, tumblewords.

6:41 AM  
Blogger Tammie Lee said...

I love the part about your son
Your love pours through
surrender to what is
and what is
is all we have

11:57 AM  
Blogger murat11 said...

What is, indeed, Tammie. Thank you for your poem.

4:37 AM  
Blogger Niall said...

Hi..just dropping by via Devilmoods blog!...noticed you're reading 'Passion' too!I'm up to around page 110!

12:46 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Welcome, Niall: A luxurious pot of coffee Passion is, eh?

Saw an old old movie about Byron and Caroline back in the early 70s: Richard Chamberlain as B and Sarah Miles as C. The movie was Lady Caroline Lamb, screenplay by Miles' hubby Robert Bolt, who also penned A Man for All Seasons.

Passion is much better, but I was a Miles fan at the time.

2:35 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home