Found poem on a red cup, in the Starbucks section
of Barnes and Noble,
in Eugene, Oregon. United States. North America.
The i in the word universe dotted with a star!
The world belongs to dreamers,
and marketers
and schemers
and those who position stores within stores
and painters
by numbers
and arrows
blurring lines along the way
moving you around and through a place
so you don't miss anything you might ever want
and didn't know that before you dropped in.
We've become a nation of
peddlers
tapping into others' dreams
for the moment it takes to
unload the truck of cheap imports.
Only,
your heart knows why you buy into this dream
why you buy into any dream
not your own.
of Barnes and Noble,
in Eugene, Oregon. United States. North America.
The i in the word universe dotted with a star!
The world belongs to dreamers,
and marketers
and schemers
and those who position stores within stores
and painters
by numbers
and arrows
blurring lines along the way
moving you around and through a place
so you don't miss anything you might ever want
and didn't know that before you dropped in.
We've become a nation of
peddlers
tapping into others' dreams
for the moment it takes to
unload the truck of cheap imports.
Only,
your heart knows why you buy into this dream
why you buy into any dream
not your own.
I did not know you had this blog. This is awesome!
ReplyDeleteLove it.
ReplyDeleteMaybe a Starbucks in a Barnes and Noble ain't so bad after all, if you found a poem like this.
love the poem!
ReplyDeleteThe creator of Starbucks himself must have written that poem who dreamt up this store within stores that draws us in mightily with its wood panelings, its atmosphere of coziness, something foreign, something exotic, a gathering place with muted voices and unfamiliar languages where you will forget time and sometimes obligations. We indulge in the aroma of coffee, though the regular one rarely tastes as good as it smells, and still we will return. A need has been stirred up we didn't have a moment ago for a sweet cream-dolloped drink, a muffin, a piece of cake. And yes, there are multi-colored knickknacks for sale, when you move around and through the place, that powerfully awake an instant longing for something cute, colorful, kitschy that since our earliest childhood days we would have been spellbound by, the something we never could have but now can. Oh Starbucks!
ReplyDeleteWow. This speaks volumes.
ReplyDelete"dreams" we live by them.. we die by them..
ReplyDeleteDon't stop dreaming ever.....
this is so prescient rosaria.....the grass is always greener, right? it seems we keep ourselves dumb with electronic media so that we do not realize the potential of tapping into our own lives.
ReplyDeleteWonderful, Rosaria. Do any of us take time to dream and are we ever too old to dream? Thought provoking, my dear.
ReplyDeleteRosaria, is above poem by you? It sure sounds like your work (and it wouldn't fit on a cup) - of course it is. I guess I got the whole thing wrong. There goes my wanting to sound smart with above comment!
ReplyDeleteThe top line, follow your dream...the universe knows, is written on a cup.
ReplyDeleteThe rest, my speculations, in a poem form.
Thanks for your comments.
My writing group yesterday enjoyed it as well.
Makes me wonder what else in life I totally misunderstand and misinterpret! Sorry, Rosaria. (Now I somehow need to gracefully accept my stupidity, oh my.)
ReplyDeleteDon't fret! We are all just learning to see what the other sees.
DeleteThough we are all human, we say things out of our own context, giving them our own special meaning. Even people who grow up in the same house get signals mixed.
Lovely, Rosaria. Just lovely.
ReplyDelete