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

 To my readers: It's been a doozy of a week. I started having tooth pain this past Friday, but I couldn't get to the dentist until yesterday. It turned out they had to pull a tooth, but for four days, I was basically living off coffee, tylenol and anbesol.I'm still recovering from it, and I'm getting back to writing and posting my poetry. Sorry for the inconsistent posting for the past month. With my various health issues, it's been more difficult to keep up with the blogs. Hopefully, I'll get back onto a more regular schedule again in posting.Most of my poetry is on my Bluesky account (sifaseven.bsky.social), but the ones here are extended versions of selected pieces. (The character limit sometimes forces me to cut lines shorter. Blogger and Wordpress don't have that problem). Keep writing and reading, and I'll see you all soon. ~Sifa

Can a spinning top  last forever?  Waver on a  single fragile point the lightest  of touches on a smooth surface  Defy gravity  by sheer will that delicate balance perfect for a moment  One brief stutter  hesitation  will make it  all crash down

Spooky season  dark and mysterious  I have no fear  of ghosts and demons  witches and goblins vampires and zombies  the dead do not care  I am actually  more frightened  of the devils  who are still living they force you to mortgage your soul for their services but in the end they hold the contract in a vise like grip those are the phantoms that haunt my nightmares

What is the sound  of a heart breaking?  A soul shaking  with tremors  of terrible finality?  The most radical change  is usually the one  that is never heard by outside ears. A life decision to go on another path from what others expect as the status quo irrevocable steps unmoving words that you cannot take back no matter the cost Try to glue your life back together but the pieces no longer fit perfectly but there is a point where those cracks become badges of honor.

Some days are fine  other days my head  is full of fog  my fingers do not work  the way  they're supposed to  my joints scream  every step hurts It's more than  just bad bones and the coming of age they all tell me  to move, move, move  he says he has a 'treatment' nod nod, wink wink he says with a smirk it will feel better when you get your blood flowing take more vitamins  and hot showers I've heard all the advice all of whatever their aunt, sister, grandma has done over the years but all I want to do  is sleep.

The man in the bookstore took one look at me  and said "Bards know Bards."  We talked about lutes and lyres  harps and dulcimers  poetry and songs  Different traditions East and West musical scales Heroes and villains quests and adventures nobles and jesters Despite centuries  music and storytelling  still sing loud An English Medieval and Renaissance Song Book, Edited by Noah Greenberg. A Celtic harp charm on a silver chain and a blown glass charm with the image of a sixteenth note/semiquaver on a cord.

Leaves fall  in the autumn  they do not  plunge straight down  the breeze pushes them  to and fro as it tries  to keep them aloft  as long as possible perhaps they travel for miles and miles drift past roads and woods and dales chase each other in circles as they follow the currents far from wherever they had started  but inevitably  they touch the ground upon their final rest

sirens sing to sailors  enthrall them at the wheel  they turn the boat to face them  it splinters at the keel some face the depths so willingly the promises still ringing their minds numb to the danger to the sweetly worded singing  they thrash under the water  the song vibrates just so  surrender to the darkness  a terrible way to go

Thirteen feet of garden hose  coiled neatly in the shed  the season is nearly over  the warm spring sun  and the blazing summer heat  give way to the cool chill  of the autumn and  the bitter cold of the winter  it lies there in wait  like a hibernating snake until it is needed again

lost in the crowd  the music thunders  oh so loud  the bass thrums  the drums keep the beat  the guitars hum the fans all dance together and apart you decide to take a chance  a wild night awaits  the air electrified  we both meet by fate

Beauty is fleeting it never lasts forever  but before it fades  it graces us  with its fragile  presence  a fragrant flower that blooms once  fresh and pure  untouched by the rigors of life and ethereal  in its quality a reminder of what  happiness brings  for such a brief time

My daughter turns 18 today she has her plans her hopes and her dreams I'm there for moral support I look with wistful eyes remember the little girl trying out hats in the store posing in front of the mirror who set her plushies at the table with bits of cake and pour out tea from the pink pot who hugged the stuffed bear that still sits outside of the chocolate shop and that small girl is now a grown woman I will always be her mother but she is her own person.

Every year  we go to  the Ren Faire  time to get  some mead  in a tall mug hear the crier announce  her Majesty's arrival watch the knights  joust on their horses the crowds shout "Huzzah!" for their chosen  champions the bards wander round  playing love songs and being transported to an idealized time where chivalry is alive and honor is not dead

a flavorful drink  full of rum and spices  an interesting shade  of red  the mansion is decked with tasteful decor from the tables, the lanterns the bed the party is loud  the music sublime  a pity these guests  are all dead

Leaves droop and fall  slowly one by one  the venerable old tree still stands majestic  as it has always been the trunk still proud its root buried deeply into the crumbly black soil a solid sentinel  still watches over us all its branches touch  the cloudless sky  but now they are bare it shivers in the cold because it has lost its yearly armor.

mournful for what  should have been  instead of what is  that is why  I look ever forward  because if I look back  all the regret  would swallow me up my mind trapped in a muddy mire of pain and sadness of old open wounds  and I can't change  what happened in the past  but I can still improve  my lot for the future