Contained below is the full "Ode to Coffee."

Warm water flowing over course grounds,
With out which, my smile upside down,
This is an ode to that which I am bound.

The morning rise, with no sleep,
no energy, no food to eat,
But with coffee, the lack of above: I can beat.

Through the perk, I kill the jerk,
And laugh.

With milk, sugar, and cream,
I beat the dreams,
and wake.

I face the day with a cup most large,
And soon, I will feel in charge,
An ode to the wondrous energy unseen,
All contained in that little coffee bean.

I sip because the liquid is hot.
Oh man, that is hitting the spot!
Till the sweetness at the end,
Then I fill my cup again,
And drink it to the last drop.

Its the cream of the morning,
Its what to do with life is boring.
Whether at home,
Or on the roam,
It will get your sleeping body soaring.

Up all night, studying for a test?
Try this: a remedy that's best,

Driving and falling asleep?
This will keep you on your feet.

It is another ode to coffee,
With-out which, I'd be a mean me.
I do remain true,
To that cafinated brew
Till I am shaking and cannot see.

With a straw with no other purpose than to agitate,
Stirring the brown, that will help me awake...
Another cup of the black I make,
Another sweet sip of coffee, I take.

The coffee drips, filtered as such,
From grounded goodness, I drink much,
I add sugar, but only just a touch,
Oh' that thick black brew.

And the pot fills, but not too quick,
Limited by a thin drip,
My impatients wail, wanting to sip,
Oh' that thick black brew.

What warms my belly, when the rain falls?
And helps me up when the alarm calls?
Sometimes so thick,
Its like a kick,
Right square in the... anyhoo.

Whether out or in,
The morning I begin,
Sipping with a grin,
Oh' that thick black brew.

And when I've had enough,
My awareness waking up,
Shaking badly, I can't hold the cup,
I drink more of...

That thick black brew.
Whether it is Cafe Ole'
Or a Fat Latte',
Or a Doubled Ice,
Mm.. Would be Nice,
Perhaps a Mocha,
Or just coffee and cocoa,
Maybe an Americano,
Or possibly a Cappichino,

What ever your Flavor,
It would do you a favor,
To drink it up!
Who can stop at one Cup?
Have 2, have 3, have 4...
Then get some more,
Maybe from Turkey
Or that Thai Iced Coffee...

World peace could be attained,
Many things many things gained,
Becuase Coffee is grown world wide,
From the mountains of Vietnam,
to the Columbian country side,
Coffees from Arbia, and France,
Yet we argue, fight, and die...
Isn't this, at least, a chance?

Knowing of one thing that could unite us all,
But people are ignorant,
And this world, will fall...
I Implore you with one LAST CALL!

Drink it up...
"Just have another cup..."
Please.

Cool condensation works its way down,
From a glass holding the end of my frown,
On a glass swirled with white and brown,
And topped with a rich, wipped, crown...

And as the sweet hits my lips,
The edge of the glass, I kiss...
Sends me into an undescribable bliss...
The tireness that plagues me, I dismiss...

Filled with chocolate, and cream...
Its called a mocha, but it is a dream,
Thick yet not it does not seem...
The best, in my opion it has been deemed.

Another sip, another drink,
Into my chair I start to sink,
And when I think I've pushed to the brink...
Another! I call... and smile.

Sometime people need a place to sit,
To think, to sing, or yell (just a bit).

It is not at the Starbucks or Seatles Best,
Which are one in the same,
It is not some global company,
Assaulting you every day.

There will not be one on every corner,
And then one in the bookstore next door,
There will not be a drive through,
And they are rarely a bore.

And you can understand the drink sizes,
Because they use all the regular names...
Small, Medium, or Large...
Thats just about all.

These are places you can bust out your guitar,
And recieve a smile, not a boot,
Or you could just sit there and read,
No one would bother or give a hoot.

If you are really lucky,
your friend might flip one for free
But at those corporate places,
Its all about: Money, Money, Money.

These places have community support,
And support just the same,
And they are all different,
And all have a unique name.

Some grant wall space for aspiring artist,
Some have bands, who even sometime play for free,
Some have games, to sharpen the mind,
Some have books... but all mean so much to me.

It is the local coffee shop in which I speak.
A place to mingle, talk, drink and eat,
It is a place to get away,
A place just to relax and get off your feet.

Morning sun breaks, my head aches,
Light floods my eyes,
As I duck my head, aginst the pending dread,
I try not to look at the sky...

The sun is up, and me with cup,
Head lazly into town,
The day is bright, and to her delight,
I no longer wear my frown...

And so I find mine, from a guy,
Who grinds and roasts all day long,
He is the king, and his coffee's mean,
And gets me singing a song.

I like it thick, just a bit,
Maybe with some cream.
I like it hot, or possibly not,
That depends on my mood, it seems.

My coffee done, time for fun,
I go to see what is up...
But alas, just sitting in the grass...
I enjoy another cup.

And after that, after I sat,
I went to the shop,
And saw some friends, enjoyed another, again,
And now I am racing, and cannot stop...

I start to think, as I drink,
About friends from long past,
And I start to smile after a while,
And any dark moods, I cast.

You may, want to say,
"Mike, I think you are an addict"
And I may, want to say,
"Oh go to hell, and let me sip."

Heart pounding!
Hand shaking!
Body waking!
Strong ass cup!

Eye twiching!
Throat burning!
Stomach turning!
I'll fill another up!

Blood pressure dropping!
Insulin poping!
Not stopping!
Drinking it down...

Thinking fast,
Hope out I don't pass,
Laying on the grass,
Falling to the ground!

And I counter with kind,
And it blows my mind,
My morning away, signed.
Another fill, another hit...

Ahh... this is what its about,
Another black stout,
Keeping me from the pout
Is it time to quit!?!

No! What? No!
I need to go!
Keep up the flow...
I mean, to the bathroom...

And after my release,
"Another one please"
I need it, can't you see!
Sweep my sleep like a broom...

Talking, laughing, waking...
God, are you all shaking?
Or is it me?

So I counter in kind, again...
And my mouth, up in grin...
Some think I sin...
But thats okay...

I do what I do...
And again, soon...
I will invite you...
I'll let you know.

Sweet silk created by milk,
Hits my lips as I kiss,
The rim of the GLASS...

Warm water, sometimes hotter,
And Sometimes cold, but never old...
Wakes me with at BLAST.

Couse grounds, pounded down,
And brewed completly through,
Fills my cup to the EDGE...

Bags of beans, hundreds it seems,
Ready for the grind, and my mind...
Puts me over the LEDGE.

Another morning, I'm soring,
Sitting at my desk, with whats best.
I and my plastic CUP...

Another night, stay up right?
Sitting with book, taking another look...
Drinking it UP.

This is the last ode part, for the coffee has run away with my heart...
Through my veins it pours, and though my mind roars,
My fingers shake to much to write.
The coffee, though good... needs to be treated carefully as should.
You think you going for a double, but its a quad trouble...
And soon you loose your sight!

I am not saying bad things, or playing any games.
Just sometimes, many finds, that to much causes banes...
And it makes you, like nothing, shake and jerk...
But oooh, it still calls everyday, still into the traps I fall,
Waiking up, thinking about the cup, if none I erupt, and curse call,
And then, after recovery, I make one when I get to work.

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