An Eighth Shot of Espresso: Coffee and Creativity on Mum's Third Shift

Old elusive friend of mine It's as if we are meeting for the very first time. I have known you for close to twenty years our children were babies. Remember when we used to have coffee and catch up on what we're doing! Oh I meant to call you We should go out sometime it'll be just like old times.   Texts not responded e-mails left unanswered hard to be mad at how life goes. Until you call: Where did you go? I went by your house. New cars in the driveway "Beware of Dog" sign. I didn't even know you had a dog. "I moved three years ago! I hadn't heard from you for so long I assumed you didn't care." Awkward silence. Life just got away from us Drifted apart. I got tired of being the one to make all the effort until you remember I'm there. Not because we fought but because of life. Out of sight, out of mind. Object permanence but instead of things it's living, breathing people.

Where is my beloved? The one who complements my soul and brings out the best in me? I hear his voice in my mind and I see his face at the edge of my vision . I sit and listen as the other drones about his opinions and his supposed knowledge. I dream about travels and experiences shared with my beloved by my side. I know he is not here. My heart is sore I feel like there is something missing from my life. And who I thought was him isn't him. Now I lie awake at night with a substitute snoring at my side.

Vengeance is a dish best served cold. Why is that? Because it is planned, calculated and seemingly more rational? Because it can take days, months, years decades for it to bear fruit? Vengeance is a dish best sweet. Why is that? Because it can take days, months, years decades for it to bear fruit? Aged like fine wine for a darker palate? Vengeance is misnamed both sweet and cold. Why is that? It still stems from an emotional core. Just because it is not 'hot' from rage doesn't make it more logical. And that tart taste turns to ash in your mouth.

A collection of haiku and tanka using word prompts from "#vss365" om Twitter/X. Prompt words are marked with a #. I. A majestic bird she unfurls her wings in flight #proud and without fear. II. I don't have #remorse over what I can't control and no misplaced guilt loaded onto my shoulders I'm not my sister's keeper. III. A cheeky response brings smiles and rueful laughter or a stony glare depends on the audience and on their lack of humour. IV. #suspicious actions deflections are #successful all thanks to privilege. V. They are #astonished that not everyone believes the same as they do. VI. #Motivated by the pure goodness of your heart? Is there such a thing? VII. Hasty solution completely #rushed and bodged up and yet it still works! VIII. I am #overwhelmed by my body's odd workings and I wonder why it won't just work normally just like everyone else's? IX. I love the Islands they're warm and hospitable saying " #aloha "

A spider toys with its  prey allows it to struggle gives it a moment of hope perhaps it will be lucky and slip away from the web. Panic fuels its frantic movements this cannot be the end! Survival instincts the basest of desires even in the smallest of brains evolution dictates the survival of the fittest. But even the strongest the luckiest the most wily the most skilled has their luck run out. The spider takes its time until it is hungry: food isn't going anywhere.

Some poisons are not detectable until they are deeply entrenched in your heart and mind You do not feel the effects not yet not at first it needs time to fester and to grow. It all seems normal what you see what you hear the same old, same old it changes gradually. The words sound different the sights blur at the edges aromas do not stir the same hunger. Yet life goes on no one notices how it spreads from person to person generation to generation. Until the sickness becomes the norm and the antidote is useless to save your soul.

Oh the horror! Young minds fresh ideas challenging the status quo. No respect no honor what is this world gone to? "I suffered through it so should they! It builds character! Nothing is this world is free! No one gets a free ride as long as you seize the opportunities!" To hear them speak they trudged up the hill in six foot snow both ways and backwards worked a job for 30 years bought a house at 25. Fought for change against their own elders made great strides but now pulling up the stakes reversing all progress in their dying wake. Can the cycle be broken? The yang becomes yin The popular becomes anaethema the powerful becomes poor. Is lasting change just out of reach and just a passing fancy?

Silent screams as daggers of ice plunge into her body paralyze her vocal chords into submission until no one realizes she is dying inside. A fog of forgetfulness rolls into her mind clouding every part of her brain into silence until no one realizes she is no longer herself.

Plush carpet worn by many footsteps the rich and powerful hobnobbing under bright lights deals made in secret liaisons on its back what stories it could tell if it could talk. Silver mirror reflected many faces handsome men and beautiful women Distorted from reality a silent witness to many discussions and meetings what stories it could tell if it could talk. Heavy door pulled open and closed shut muffling voices agreements between people mute cries of passion divide rooms into compartments what stories it could tell if it could talk. Oil painting stare out through lifeless eyes youth forever frozen posture caught in time. Admired by eyes dismissed by minds what stories it could tell if it could talk.

I. I am overwhelmed by my body's odd workings and I wonder why it won't just work normally just like everyone else's? II. Doctors appointments so many medications infusions and tests and what is the problem here or is it all in your mind? III . Even with results a medical mystery misdiagnosis this isn't what I was taught so it just might not exist. IV. Brain fog everyday combat fatigue with coffee pray for five o'clock even then the job's not done the second shift just begins. V. Waiting for results every day a brand new war that you wage alone in a house of five people "I'm sorry, well, anyway."

Glassy eyes have seen through the years fur threadbare stitching at the seams stuffing spilling out repaired and resewn over and over again time and time again a silent sentinel absorbing tears chasing the monsters away from under the bed. A veteran of many tumbles in the washer and dryer. Logged many miles in cars, trains, planes seen many sights through the window. Passed on to a new generation old wizened eyes have seen far too much.

Have fun storming the prison free the prisoners lettres de cachet no rhyme or reason of why they are there. No more kings or serfs feudalism is dead Declarations of the Rights of Man all are equal under the eyes of the Creator above. A celebration of freedom parades down the street a show of mighty brotherhood devotion to the cause Vive le France, monsieur.

Soft as a rose petal the skin of a newborn babe so sweet and innocent sleeps on, ignorant of the harsh years to come that will weather it to the consistency of leather. Rough as gravel Grandmother's touch is still soft It has seen so much over the passage of years the storms have not changed the firmness of warm stone.

I. My life's big challenge married to an introvert so much compromise. II. Evenings spent alone he unwinds watching programs on his computer. III. No get-togethers no casual friends at all except from his work IV. He just sets the tone content to be by himself ignores everything V. I do things for me and deal with his jealousy but he does nothing. VI. He's not comfortable I respect his preference. But I am not him.

Bite,chew and swallow All without making a noise that is so polite just make sure you do not choke and offend the gracious host. Inane conversation vapid chatter on all sides Nod and smile appear to agree without trying to disagree. Who are these people? You quickly learn whom to engage and whom to avoid. Knowing looks of disapproval their backs turned. It is all a dance the steps must be learned in order to survive the wolves but one stumble, one hesitation will be your very downfall.

You never know what will resonate with the crowd. A five minute sketch or witty little ditty just a minor thought. Suddenly it's there being talked of, being shared and you are surprised. A portrait, a carefully crafted piece taking hours, days to complete garners no interest at all. Do you pander to the wave of what will get you seen what is the rage of the moment? What matters more, the numbers, the accolades or what your heart tells you? Do you go one way or the other or do you strike a balance between the popular and the sublime? If the mood is cynical and bitter do you change to match it? Or do you seek joy in the little things? The moment you decide to live for yourself they may forget who you are. Is that worth the pain or is the quiet too much for a restless soul?

The color of kings Rare and expensive Light of vibration that lifts your soul and calms you down. The mystics treasure it this hue of Knowledge the rage of red balanced with the calm of blue a mix of balance of the two. Not as scarlet as rubies or deep as garnets. Not as azure as sapphires. Amethysts are their own very unique shade. Reserved for the mightiest until it could be duplicated replicated for the common man: purple is my favorite color.

I. Reading of the will: they are all perched on their seats to hear what they get what has been bequeathed to them all the scheming is for this. II. A taste of power not content with just a bite they want more and more until the entire pie is all theirs to swallow whole. III. The lawyer looks up meets their eyes unflinchingly hides a little smile She had warned him about this Revenge from beyond the grave. IV. He speaks pleasantries and betrays no emotions because it's his job. Even as a sense of pride wells up from within his breast. V. There's shock and dismay crossing all of their faces They can't believe it The very nerve of her denying what they deserve. VI. Of course they protest vowing to contest the will swearing up and down fighting what they think is theirs and accusing each other. VII. Problems with power: any hint of betrayal root it out right now Extirpate it completely only then can you be safe. VII. He sits back to watch this story replays itself and he's

Skullduggery in the back alleys and run down warehouses of the city the rain washes away all evidence of the blood. Life in the shadows is hard you learn to melt away see but not be seen close your ears to the screams and the cries of the devoured. No one judges you for what you have to do to survive. The ones who do come from the moral high ground and would not survive a single night. Your soul is already damned That is cold hard fact. What matters is what you make of your short existence in the limited time you are here. Will you be one of the forgotten?  

I. The years pass on by Put away my childhood dreams marble effigies embox them in vaults of stone and never resurrected. II. "You must study hard graduate, get a good job help the family then think about what you want. That is your duty in life." III. Obedient child strong in intelligence but lacking in wisdom: trade one cage for another from daughter to mother, wife. IV. Lifelong devotion and I will always be there always smiling and never complaining of the insults and the disrespect. V. Then one day it breaks not in the heat of anger but cold clarity "I am better than this and I deserve so much more too!" VI. My soul awakens: there is a wide world out there one for exploring I pack my bags and just go and leave the dead weight behind.

I. Every strategy, scholars excogitate all break it into steps contingents for everything all the bases are covered. II. But when all breaks down go to plan A, B, C, D all the way to Z Then go to double letters and even more if needed. III. No need to panic every response is assured So take a deep breath Alternatives possible and nothing is chaotic. IV. Inevitable: when it all starts to break down plans do not survive are you paralyzed by fear or formulate a new plan?

A world in a drop of rain A microcosm in a pebble hold it in your palm it seems tiny, insignificant perhaps it is a dull colored rock one that lines every seashore and riverbed all over the land. The depths of a baby's eyes as they behold a brand new world see the wonder that is, and once was and what is to come. Unspoiled by the cynicism that arrives as the years take their toll. A sparkle of sunlight that breaks onto the water fleeting and floating here for one moment in time before the clouds roll in and dim that brightness until it is gone. Sometimes the simple pleasures make absolutely no sense to the learned mind and the weary jaded wanderer but remember that it all depends on your point of view.

Many hearts beat to the same drum Never wavering, never changing Then something strange happens: It only takes one second one hesitation, one misstep then the rhythm stutters. Soft at first, it's hardly noticed. Then as the seconds tick on Others fall out of line. The steady cadence stumbles it's no longer dependable it's not what it used to be. Utter chaos reigns as each beat struggles to be heard. Then one grows louder than the rest. It takes the others by the hand and leads them to a new direction charting a path far from the old. More and more join in the music swells more and more into a crescendo overwhelms the old, transforms it. A new and stronger way As long as it lasts until the cycle comes again.