Starbucks Cup


Black letters scrawled indifferently

Staining ivory paper indefinitely

Concrete in deed and purpose, inherently


These scribbles could be meaningless

Barely legible loops and lines, aimless

The precision was unimportant, regardless


Their purpose held in balance the quenching of my thirst

The deciding factor of who could take a sip first


These basic cave-man like symbols

Are a rough illustration of me

My name, my identity

But more importantly, they told the rest of the caffeine addicts in that Starbucks that that Green Tea Latte with no whip and whole milk was mine.


Bear with me for a moment as I expound

on a rather seemingly mindless account

of a Starbucks’ cup.

Yes, it’s silly, necessarily frilly

And easily can be taken as a little hill-billy

BUT, I digress for the purpose of art.


You see, we go through life scribbling our names on cheap plastic

Not realizing our character could be fashioned from the same elastic.

We bend and we shift to whatever the mood or crowd feels

Not fully knowing the potential that changing conceals.


The present situation: the deepest funk the world has ever been in.

The kind where you don’t even know where to begin

Where you wake up in the morning and know today is going to be a bad hair day because your head is not even on right.

You walk through the day without a glimmer of reality in sight.


What I have discovered after restless digging

Is only an apathetic spirit that is simply unforgiving?

My realization left me done with the institution

And done with the irresolution

And done with the vast exclusion

Of Authenticity


Why can’t anyone be themselves anymore?

Is it that we are so used to being black blurs on a Starbucks cup

That we forgot our presence was not just a construct

We are real people, you and me

We are flesh and we are bone and meant to be free

We are not meant to be controlled by the fashion or culture

We are unique and we are strong, like any good sculpture


There is no need to blur your name

Just to gain more acclaim

Or simply fit in to the group that you chosen

When really you don’t know their true emotion

If we all stop being actors in this world-wide charade

We can finally begin to stop being played

We don’t have to live life as if always afraid

We can accept each person as superbly handmade

By a God whose best work is daily displayed

On the faces of humans, in His image He made


And His Work is breath-taking is more ways than one

We have strength and talent that can never be undone

But he never meant for our name to be hidden.

He wants us to be proud, be proud and forgiven


So next time you realize you’ve compromised your name

Ask for a new cup with truth as the aim.






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