Black Bear Barista Love

Early this morning the day was offset into a frenzy of productivity by swirls of blackberry, chocolate and creamy hot love in a cup crafted by an artisan barista. 

Feeling all needy and intense on a Monday morning as per the usual, I just had to get out of my home office and into the buzz of my favorite cafe where all is right with the world and high vibes reign.  The most succulent human of the day nodded with a glimmer in his eyes with each request that rolled out of my mouth, “Black Bear,” I read from the sign. “Sounds so good,” I licked my lips mostly because I drooled a little at the thought of a blackberry and chocolate latte called, ‘Black Bear.’ I usually go with lavender or something spicy, but today the air felt brand new. 

The succulent barista smirked with a lively energy that caused him to drop something in that attractive, relaxed and clumsy way. “A big one,” the barista’s eyes widened as he fumbled over the cups. “An extra shot of espresso in that big white mug right there with the wide mouth.” I pointed firmly until he picked it up and I was sure it was mine, “And with oat milk,” I declared satisfied with my creation and oozing with gratitude. 

Good Karma, you always know just how I like it and even though you’re not 3 blocks away anymore, I’ll always come to you.

Washington Square West Good Karma Cafe: http://www.thegoodkarmacafe.com/

What lies beneath the plight of those weaving their magic in the halls of Ivy League

The Plush ivy Petals on those Plighting the Palace of Penn
bring a special sort of Prose to my Puckered up Pout
Poets and Pioneers of impossible cures
Plough through the Pias with Pints and Pianos
"keep your day job, but don't give up the dream"says the Scott Scientist, with his Shiny Silken Kilt and his wee Lilt,
strumming his Strings of Savvy with Sincerity and Solace
full of heart, Song and Shining Sentiments brought Spirit to a Sit down with Serious faces, which yielded stories of Sorrow, but ended in Success

2/7/14 I'm marking this day, with my first identified prose in print, as a dedicated thanks to Andrew McGhie, who has invited me to the group at The Kelly Writer's House.
Upon my arrival to Philadelphia, this house called to me.
Perhaps being named Kelly at birth, by my late father, insighted the calling. (At age two I obnoxiously demanded, "no me Sarah," in order to change my name to Sarah Kelly.)

After attending the first meeting, I realize I've joined a group of legends in a house filled with glorious history.

How the invite came to be below:

Thank you Drew, for showing me the softer side of Laboratory Research, and the Structure of hard and soft Matter.
Reading from the poetry inspired by your train ride home, which could no doubt grace the pages of that where Shakespeare resides, empowered me to pass a hugely intensive clinical research study audit, with ACRIN, the leader in optical imaging.

Mary, the auditor, a love of a lady was reminiscent of Mrs. Doubtfire.
We hugged and kissed at the conclusion of the three day audit (as I envisioned you strumming your guitar and sipping pints at the local pub.)

We dug into every dot on every "i", and every cross on every "t."
We scowered the medical records language of those who continue to suffer with this greedy disease.
We contacted one of the breast cancer survivors, who had been in our study,
requesting further information, she had just left the hospital moments before,
still getting treatments years later, as the disease has spread.

Mary's eyes filled with tears while sharing stories of her sister who'd lost one of her children. Her other sister, she lost to breast cancer, it claimed her life at 45.
This was the sour grape, which brought her into breast cancer research and she continues to race for the cure.