At the café from nowhere
there's always a table available
to welcome the infinite.
Those who no longer have shadows
slip in through a crack in the unreal,
leaving a tip of melancholy in some
empty cup of afterlife...
A buccaneer who thinks he's Hemingway ,
having just arrived from from a distant planet
on the next street over ,tell us about star wars ...
He's quite the vet' who knows all the tricks
to fool immortality under his magacap ...
At the café from nowhere ,
the damned are playing a rugged game
that dead dispenses in a compassionate manner...
Magnificent losers picking up the last tab .
Mocking the poor lunatic poet who mourns
the fickle muse ...
I go there several times in my life and even
more than that ....
I've found a few autistic avatars who consider
themselves artists ...
Recognizing in me the ectoplasm of Kafka .
but that's just a dream dissolved in a moka cream...
I'm in love with this girl who never finishes her
poisoned elixir .
Artificial flower courted by indifference ,
Sometimes her green plant eyes looks
almost pleading ...
Saying ''Water me ! ''
I don't dare approache her
You know I'm not a gardener .
And bonsai don't have email ...
At the midnight of the worlds ,
when everything is nothing but appearances,
souls in pain have not to pay .
Nothingness makes credit .
at the entrance just hang your nooses
ans a few other hopes ...
Take a look at the infinity heading ,
we'll be talking about you there ...
the wait will keep you company .
and know that you will never leave again
the café from nowhere...
-
Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 22nd, 2026 10:54
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
- Users favorite of this poem: Ellen Marsell, Priya Tomar, Tristan Robert Lange, Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS
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Comments5
We never leave the Café - not because the doors are locked, but because there is simply nothing left outside. This Café is the world itself, compressed to the size of a cup of cooling coffee.
I reserved your table for the infinite...
A quiet conversation with absurdity .
Surreal and deeply hauting ....
Once the threshold passed ,nothingness gives credit !
Do they serve dos Equis there? If not I'll take a couple of shots of tequila and a margarita to go. Oh I forgot one can not go so I'll drink in the the front table as I smoke my pipe. Good write my friend
Our friend the buccaneer will love to have a drink with you !
Cheers
Fascinating read, love it!
The poor poet lacking inspiration is waiting for you ...
I presume you have your pen ready?
Lorenz, this pulled me in right away…there’s a strange, dreamlike pull to it that feels both playful and unsettling at the same time. It moves like a place you’ve been before but can’t quite place. Really enjoyed this. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
An encounter with yourself somewhere in the twilight zone .
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