#185: Food poetry to munch on
Dearest reader,
I’m feeling rather hungry today. So instead of talking and telling you about how my week was and what I’ve been mulling over, I’m skipping straight to the poems.
Poetry Corner
Six delectable kitchen poems to satiate your poetry appetite this month.
1. Soup Allure by Nancy Dymond
Combine the following and stir:
A fragrant powder of savory herbs
Tree nuts tossed and gently toasted
Vegetables oiled and slowly roasted
Broth of beef, honey of bee
Flake of parsley, salt of sea
In a great pot over a medium flame
Provoke rolling bubbles of rising steam
Turn to the lettuces; wash, chop, mix
Color with celery and carrot strips
Raisins? Almonds? Olives and cheese?
Tomatoes? Scallions? All of these?
Reduce the flame to a quiet simmer
Set the table for evening dinner
A scalloped knife beside the bread
Jam to sweeten and butter to spread
What more could a person want from life
Than a salad, a soup, and a loaf with a knife?
2. Renunciation by C. P. Surendran
First light on the kitchen table
Breakfast for one. Beer and wine.
Feline eyes kiss fallen tart.
Lunch is a conceit of three. My cat,
Your snapshot and me. Secret rum
In mint tea. Invalidation of the sun.
Last light comes to sup. Dinner is a feat
In rectitude. Water and whiskey.
Campaign of shadows. No despair.
A sliver of music around the ankles
In a dream’s corridor.
Endless retreat of inaccessible feet.
3. Before the Hunt by Kelly Joslyn
I never grew to love the kitchen,
but at 4 years old and 4 am,
I treasured, without a map,
the man my father was, standing in it
casting long shadows in the almost light
of the low watt bulb over the hooded stovetop
still in his underwear, his mountainous frame
not yet camouflaged or ready for the hunt.
My flanneled bunny-print bottom
perched on the pressed Formica countertop
tiny, hot feet delightfully curled
against the cool, stainless sink basin
small fingers wrapped around the ripe yellow pears
on the smooth surface of a still favored clay cup
the smell of warm kid-coffee, tobacco,
and citrus tickling my nose.
My father’s rough, sledgehammer hands gracefully
peeling the fragrant tangerine skin, exquisitely stripping
every tender section of all the bitter white stuff,
before offering up the smallest, sweetest pieces
spitting the slippery seeds between my toes and giggles,
the dull ting of harmless fruit bullets punctuating our laughter.
4. On A Diet by William Matthews
Eat all you want but don’t swallow it.
—Archie Moore
The ruth of soups and balm of sauces
I renounce equally. What Rorschach saw
in ink I find in the buttery frizzle
in the sauté pan, and I leave it behind,
and the sweet peat-smoke tang of bananas,
and cream in clots, and chocolate. I give
away the satisfactions of food and take
desire for food: I’ll be travelling light
to the heaven of revisions. Why be
adipose: an expense, etc.,
in a waste, etc.? Something like
the body of the poet’s work, with its
pale shadows, begins to pare and replace
the poet’s body, and isn’t it time?
5. For the Love of Avocados by Diane Lockward
I sent him from home hardly more than a child.
Years later, he came back loving avocados.
In the distant kitchen where he'd flipped burgers
and tossed salads, he'd mastered how to prepare
the pear-shaped fruit. He took a knife and plied
his way into the thick skin with a bravado
and gentleness I'd never seen in him. He nudged
the halves apart, grabbed a teaspoon and carefully
eased out the heart, holding it as if it were fragile.
He took one half, then the other of the armadillo-
hided fruit and slid his spoon where flesh edged
against skin, working it under and around, sparing
the edible pulp. An artist working at an easel,
he filled the center holes with chopped tomatoes.
The broken pieces, made whole again, merged
into two reconstructed hearts, a delicate and rare
surgery. My boy who'd gone away angry and wild
had somehow learned how to unclose
what had once been shut tight, how to urge
out the stony heart and handle it with care.
Beneath the rind he'd grown as tender and mild
as that avocado, its rubies nestled in peridot,
our forks slipping into the buttery texture
of unfamiliar joy, two halves of what we shared.
6. Recipe for a Salad by Sydney Smith
To make this condiment, your poet begs
The pounded yellow of two hard-boiled eggs;
Two boiled potatoes, passed through kitchen-sieve,
Smoothness and softness to the salad give;
Let onion atoms lurk within the bowl,
And, half-suspected, animate the whole.
Of mordant mustard add a single spoon,
Distrust the condiment that bites so soon;
But deem it not, thou man of herbs, a fault,
To add a double quantity of salt.
And, lastly, o'er the flavored compound toss
A magic soup-spoon of anchovy sauce.
Oh, green and glorious! Oh, herbaceous treat!
'T would tempt the dying anchorite to eat;
Back to the world he'd turn his fleeting soul,
And plunge his fingers in the salad bowl!
Serenely full, the epicure would say,
Fate can not harm me, I have dined to-day!
Recommended Listening: Workout Playlist
Links of the Week
Tree Time + Moon Trees: The Story of Seeds That Went to Outer Space
'We will defend ourselves', says Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelenskiy
This is amazing, Fireghosting! So inspired.
“The perfectionist fears setbacks, uncertainty, true knowledge of her strengths and weaknesses, failure that can't be blamed on others, and anything else that threatens her outcomes or her fixed sense of self. She deprives herself of the explosive growth that comes from uncertainty, struggle, and open exploration.”
When Death Comes: A powerful letter of thanks to poet Mary Oliver
New World: Creating for Tomorrow (a series of virtual studios, discussions and projects co-created by Today at Apple and It’s Nice That)
I Recommend for Splainer
Recently, the amazing daily news service Splainer asked me to share 5 of my favorite things. 🙆🏻♀️ Featuring Notion, Creative Mornings, Good Moves TV, Posca Pens and Flow State :)
36 Days of Type is back!
I really thought I was done with IG challenges. But 36 Days of Type started again yesterday, and I’ve decided to find the inspiration to create alphabets and numbers with found things/natural materials over the next 36 days.
Feel free to follow my creations for the challenge at @ro.doodles if you like :)
If you happen to be participating, please do email back and send me a link to your work. I need all the inspiration and motivation I can get to keep it going.
P.S. There are plenty of places to donate if you’re feeling helpless reading all the news coming in from Ukraine. Here’s a comprehensive list of charities to donate whatever you can for the people caught up in the conflict.
Don’t be a stranger.
Love,
Rohini