Cafe Karma

Will words come fill the empty spot
where I do sit today
at a table in a Starbucks
with a cup of french cafe?

It needs be strong, to have "good" taste
for I think I am right
and taste is measured by the "I"
who thinks in me, despite;

Despite the wish to let him go
he's here to bless-attend
for he it is that does invent
these words in form pretend;

Someone must put this into words
these thoughts, from far, to tend,
Beyond the normal search for more,
beyond my self, attend;

I love a Stabucks coffee
a Grande, Bold and Black
and come most every Monday
to shake the blues and smack;

I sip my cup of coffee,
its black, bitter, and hot;
my tongue feels alive in it,
it's sensors have been taught;

-That "I" do love this coffee,
like an addict loves his dope,
who is the "I" who loves this?
-another addict trying to cope?

Now wait you say, don't go there
for I'm better that just that
don't mis-align me brother
and compare me to a rat;

Addictions are for pleasure,
but what is pleasure for?
to compensate for lack of Love
to fill the lack with more;

More of the same is Karma
not new, alive and free
unless I let go of the mind
and let all things just be,

Then pain will ever follow,
and I of pain will be
created by the mind in lack
of All that seems to be

Alas what kind of coffee
i'm drinking here today,
a bitter cup with after taste
shows me I'm not free