Café Crem

Art, Music and Words around The Coffee Table

Long time no see

Hi Miki and Kev.

Thought I’d drop by to see how your doing.

Also to find out if this site is still active.

Be a shame to waste all this content created over the years.

Any plans for this?





November 11, 2014 Posted by | Art | 1 Comment

moleskinerie: Snapshot: Michael Pokocky

This is the Snapshot of me via Molsinerie–1.html

If you’d like, please visit the link above and leave a comment.

For your kindness and friendship,

Michael Pokocky


Every week in 2010 we will shine the light on a Moleskine user across the globe, this week’s snapshot is on Michael Pokocky. If you want to be featured in upcoming weeks, please email us!


Name: Michael Pokocky

Age: 55

Current City: Montreal

Job: Diarist: Observer and recorder of people, places and things.


Social Network Twitter: @michaelpokocky


1) What is your current Moleskine notebook?

Moleskine Plain Notebook (small and medium)

2) How do you use your notebook?

Thoughts germinate in my brain take a direct path to my hand filling notebooks with novels,poems,sketches and notes. see Moleskinerie: The Notebooks of Michael Pokocky. I also collaborated with Kev Moore and Miki a musician and a painter from Spain on the video trailer of my novel One More Day featuring Moleskine and other journals.

3) What’s the next place you plan to take your notebook to?

Heading out the door to Cafe La Chocolaterie Marie Claude.

4) What do you want to tell the world?

Had an idea and no pen and journal so I wrote it in the dust of my dashboard and took a photo with my cell phone.

5) Where will you and your notebook be in 5 years?

I will be on a beach in Greece sitting under a cabane writing.


March 14, 2010 Posted by | news, writing | 2 Comments

journal entry 18.01.10

November 19, 2008 Lac Rond

# photo { What I am reading: Stephen King On Writing }

# poem: a new beginning

I stood upon the hill

wrapped in my frock

the dampness filled my lungs

and all I could see was barren land

There was no movement

except the heaving of my chest when I breathed

There was no color

for I had been blinded by the flash

The silence was unbearable

until I heard a raven in the distance

and I knew he had found me

and I him

He feared not I

nor I him

and he landed on my shoulder

and I could hear him restless

I reached into my pocket

and pulled out a handful of dried corn

and I fed him

We spent eternity together

and when I walked away from this place

he circled high and low

and I followed him

My sight over the next few weeks improved

and one day when the corn ran out

and Arias was flying high and low

I came upon a forest green

and heard a spring riverbed

I drank from the water Arias had found for us

and he drank too

my parched lips cracked and bleeding

and I heard the voices singing

we followed the melodic melancholy

until we came to a waterfall

deep within the forest

and the voices went silent

and I feared

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder

and Arias was not to be found

and the hand turned me around

and I saw her standing there

with Arias upon her shoulder

and she sang for me and Arias

The others came out of hiding

and joined us in song and friendship

and I swear I could see Arias smiling at me

I never gave it a second thought again

and Arias and I lived out our lives

amongst our new found friends

and joined often in song

as we shared a new beginning together

# Inspired enthusiasm.  This is the way to know if what your doing is working for you.  So whenever there is inspiration and enthusiasm there is creative empowerment that goes far beyond what a mere person is capable of.  I gleamed this from reading Eckhart Tolle’s A New Earth.  Kind of ties into what Stephen King says in On Writing too.  Just write when you get an inspired idea and see where it takes you.  That inspiration usually contains the essence of enthusiasm when you can’t wait to get out of bed everyday to write.


January 19, 2010 Posted by | Michael Pokocky's Poetry, photo, poetry, writing | , | 7 Comments

journal entry 17.01.10

Val David walk 16th November 2009

# photo {I miss the fall light of early morning walks along Riviere Simon, Val David, Quebec, Canada}

{re-post from Redroom:

Today’s entry is a “blast from the past”

# I found this on the net today for Google Alert – Farrar, Straus, & Giroux: namelos: Publishing the old, old way. Part I | Highly recommend reading the first of several forthcoming parts from Steven Roxburhg

#f journal entry 30.08.09 I want to be in great health.  There’s so much I want to do. Now.  There’s an insanity that sets in your mind when you desire to be published so much.  And I think this is tragic.  Its silent; destructive; and theres a trail.  Anyone on that trail cannot help but step in it.  Thats another tragedy. So what I stand for I don’t care if you care.  I stand for a healthy state of mind.   And I do what I love.  Writing.  I don’t care to be published. Its not important anymore.  Its a way of life for me to write and to live joyfully.  Just think about how tragic it is when an obsessive “I want to be a published writer” behavior leads to drug and alcohol abuse disguised as the muse in one’s head, and the tagedy of what your children inherit from your obsessions, unfulfilled.  And obsessiveness is just one point to discuss.  There are a thousand other habits that can be broken.  Some good.  Some bad.  But the bad ones got to go for the sake of a life well lived.  And you can sense you’re destruction in them.  I’m glad to be emptying my mind in this journal.  Way to much to keep locked up inside.  Better to get it down and out.  Set oneself free.

# poem

Pieces of me

i’m wandering

for a long time

looking for peices of me

i can’t remember anything

its a good day when i do

then again

it is better not to remember some things

Copyright (c) Michael Pokocky 17.01.10


January 17, 2010 Posted by | Michael Pokocky's Poetry, photo, poetry, writing | , | 1 Comment

journal entry 16.01.10

Inspiration at John Le Grec | Where the writers go

# photo Inspiration at John Le Grec | Where the writers go

{re-post from Redroom:

# poem: Passion and Purpose

i dreamed of a distant place in a distant time

of three men in brown robes and one in white

i was there too at an outdoor table by a white building on white dessert sand

the only colors were the green of a green plant and the deep translucent blue of the man in the white robe

his face was like fine chinese porceline

oh but his eyes were clear and kind and knowing

he reached very quickly across the wooden table and touched my forehead between the eyes

i immediately went into convulsions as if having been electrocuted

and awoke spasmodically unable to keep from contorsions and violent movement

my wife awoke and held me tight until it passed

and then in the passing i cried from a well so deep inside

sobbing, eyes filled with tears running down my face like a spring mountain stream

then it passed and i felt a extraordinary calm not of this world

and the thought occurred to me it was love

only much later would i find out it was a divine intervention

and the love was actually a glimpse of the profound bliss we all are capable of feeling

i’ve searched and waited for it to happen for a long time afterward until i gave up

it was then that i found it again and now experience it several times a week

to have glimpsed the human potential has changed my purpose from what i want to do

to what i sense is wanting to be born into this world.

Copyright (c) Michael Pokocky 15.01.10

# I am having apple pie with ice creme right now at John Le Grec.  Just waiting ’cause they had to go out and get the ice creme — for me?, how kind.  I love writing in the black artist sketchbook I have returned to from the moleskin’s because they are too expensive.  The artist sketch book: more room, whiter paper in dim conditions relfects the light better for these old eyes, well its just plain fine.  Ah the apple pie has arrived.


January 17, 2010 Posted by | Michael Pokocky's Poetry, photo, poetry | , | 2 Comments

journal entry 15.01.10

Diary entry: Tolstoy became famous first for writing Childhood.  Such a simple title. Such a great book. 06.01.10

photo: Tolstoy became famous first for writing Childhood.  Such a simple title. Such a great book.

{re-post from Redroom:}

# Something is speaking to me.  For me.  And sharing my journal yesterday is like opening up myself not to boast or to invite attention but rather to give to give for I need nothing back from this you see.  I am at peace with this; perhaps I have found that one true thing that is in line with how I actually live my life everyday.  Its been an everyday for many years.  Why did I hide from this; or did it hide from me because I was not open to it.

# Awake Awake

an opening through the bush

a snow covered field

a lone deer crossing

and i am breathless

within without

am awakening

i know not what it is

yet the deer stands still now

i am lost to my thoughts

overhead the cry of an eagle

joyfully i look up

forgetting the breathless moment of the deer

i am one with the eagles cry

suddenly i am hit heavy

a profound weight on my shoulders

what happened

the disconnect was but for a moment

the breathless deer

the crying eagle would be forever

this duality of breathlessness and broken pervades my thoughts

and we spend eternity trapped in that incipient Hell

awake awake

is the proverbial whispers we don’t hear

copyright (c) Michael Pokocky 15.01.10

# I am not feeling as lost this year as I have been for the last 20.  I wonder what this means.  Ah I don’t really need to know.  I am “doing” instead of “thinking” and the second I think I am dead again.  Must keep on this peaceful path. There is no stress nor effort other than my pen scratching across the paper.  I can hear it now and its a melodic mantric melody keeping me sane.

# Thank you Blessed Virgin Mary.  Use me as you wish.  All I care about is that you take care of my family as you have for so many years now.  Thank you for blessing my family with the Holy Spirit in the name of the one who never cried out ever especially the day he was beaten to a pulp and nailed to the cross.  I shall call out His name for I honor you Son, Jesus.

January 15, 2010 Posted by | Michael Pokocky's Poetry, photo, photography, poetry, writing | , | 2 Comments

journal entry 14.01.10

my wife drops me off and does her thing. LUCKY l can            write anywhere.

my wife drops me off and does her thing. LUCKY l can  write anywhere: Cafe Fayette

{Re-post from my blog and tweeted to @ThisIsMikesBlog

I am going to try something new for me.  Write a journal entry from my “real” journal.  That’s what I do everyday and today I just cracked my 69th journal.  So here we go.

cracked open a new journal no. 69

# A poet I am.  I poet I shall be. Cigarette break.

# poem:

tamed indifferece

such a stoic stance

silly.  foolish of me in fact.

have i not lived experiences

gained wisdom

felt an exacted toll

a full frontal cortex of assault

truthfully i wouldn’t change anything

in misery there is clarity eventually

for the mind has a way of favoring the elusive ego once found

and bliss is thy reward

# lait 1%, deca, aromatise, [this is all French but the keyboard is English] lait de soya, sirop, creme fouettee,  All exceptional for the pallet.  But I have made my choice: cafe au lait, no 1%, topped with dark chocolate peel extreme, a slight dollop sprinkle of cinemin essence.  Very good for clarity of mind and induction of state of bliss from which creative power flows.

Copyright (c) Michael Pokocky 14.01.10


January 14, 2010 Posted by | Michael Pokocky's Poetry, photo, photography, writing | , , | 2 Comments

The greatest cafe in the world(Cafe Crem)

On my daily walk along the rivier Simon

“Books are like wines_you develop a taste for them, and everyone has a unique palate”

“What is Wisdom without light.
Disenchanted finds me.
Primrose evenings.
Beyond Evenings Darkness.”

{written by Michael Pokocky on his quest in 2009}

How is everybody doing?  Hope you had a great 2009 and I am sure 2010 marks a new decade of hope and dreams being realized and fun.

I have been on a long quest for clarity, wellness and achievement.  I have succeeded.

I feel a wonderful sense of presence and purpose in all areas of my life.  For that I am grateful.

I know a new path was presented to me when I befriended all of you on Cafe Crem.  It was fun but at the same time I had not solidified in my mind a sense of who Michael is and therefore I might, and most probably had, given many different impressions of myself.  The good the bad and the ugly churned inside of me and I am afraid I might have poisoned people’s perception of me.  For that I apologize, but having realized the struggle to define oneself with transparency, authenticity and integrity is difficult when one is lost.  Lost is probably the best word to describe my state of mind.

I spent 2009 getting healthy, working on revisions of my book One More Day, exploring the business of publishing to great depths trying to figure out where the future of publishing lay and all of this work I did alone.

I have been active on twitter and facebook and found a home of writers on Redroom.  In these three places I tried to be a good friend, provided assistance to those in need, asked a lot of questions and listened and learned that giving with love and compassion is what I like to do.  Living a life of love and compassion has given me a reason to get up every day.  Paulo Coelho says everyone has a personal legend; a reason why you are here.  I found mine.

Its not about what Michael wants.  Its about helping others to be better, happier, more at peace and motivated to get up in the morning too.  What I once did for a dream of being something, someone, I know do out of pure enjoyment.  This new dip into new waters refreshes me beyond anything I have ever done.  The irony is now thing seem to come together for Michael.  I don’t even try to figure out why anymore.  I just am at peace with it.

As this is the first day of 2010 I came up with a resolution: My resolution this year (2010), and you’re welcome to join me, is to do something every day of the new year that scares me.  Not scared as in putting myself in danger, but rather going to the edge of the cliff without falling off and knowing each time I can make it back.  Going to the edge is a metaphor for trying to do my best each day no matter what is in front of me, behind me or ahead of me.  There is only the present moment and I want to be fully present in each moment and do what ever it takes to do that.

Oh it has been a long time since I was here and yet writing this this morning I feel like I never left.  Its natural to be here.  That is probably the most profound experience Cafe Crem and the people here give me.  It is truly a place where we can come and go without judgement, fear or hesitation.

And for that I am truly grateful I met Miki in the first place and felt so proud that she invited me to be a member of the greatest cafe in the world.

Happy New Year everyone,


January 1, 2010 Posted by | Art, friends, news | 7 Comments

Summer Time

Summer Time

Summer Time

My art lessons are going well. They are a lot of fun.

Wishing everyone well,


click on the picture to see the original size.

September 13, 2009 Posted by | Art, painting, Sarah Pokocky, The MiniBar | , | 3 Comments

Flower by Sarah Pokocky



This is Sarah’s first painting from her first session with a professional painter on 05/09/09

September 6, 2009 Posted by | painting, Sarah Pokocky, The MiniBar | 10 Comments