Category Archives: Food&Wine

delish

i really really love tasty dishes

and i really love tasty food

(Harshita Chaudray, i’m a food lover )

I love ( it )  to the depth and

breadth and height

(Elizabeth Barrett Browning, how do I love thee)

but

not thick brown rice and rice pilau

or mushrooms creamed on toast (!)

(Maya Angelou, the health food diner )

but

one thousand long slimy crocodile tongues

boiled up in the skull of a dead witch for 

20 days and nights with the eyeballs of a lizard

(Roald Dahl, james and the giant peach)

swish

oxtails languish on an earthen dish. Here are

wishbones and pinkies; fingerbowls will absolve

guilt

( Carol Anne Duffy, a healthy meal )

.

i really really love tasty dishes

and i really love tasty food

(Harshita Chaudray, i’m a food lover )

downhill i came, hungry, and yet not

starved

( Edward Thomas, the owl )

i follow the aroma that rose from the kitchen

( Ravinder Kumar Soni, food for death )

ate and ate my fill

yet my mouth waters still

(Christina Rossetti, goblin market )

when i think of all the lollies i licked

and the sherbet dabs i picked

( Pam Ayres, oh, i wish i’d looked after my teeth )

the slime of all my yesterday’s 

rots in the hollow of my skull

and if my stomach would contact

(Sylvia Plath, April 18 )

asked me for a kiss

( Langston Hughes, suicides note )

to perfume the sleep of the dead   ( ….  )

( Sarojini Naidu, in the bazaars of Hyderabad )

oh, 

but

.

what am I to do with this invasion, 

contamination of my pretty (?)

( Marion McCready, two daffodils lying on a window ledge )

spread it on bread

spread it on thick

wash it all down with a cold cup of sick (?)

( source unknown , remembered from school )

never – in Extremity,

it asked a crumb – of me

(Emily Dickinson, hope is the thing with feathers )

but 

i’ll make my point – enough’s enough

( Carol Ann Duffy, boys 3, stanley )

 i repent,

(btw )

to the depth and

breadth and height 

i lament,

(btw)

jam, and jelly; and bread;

are the best of food for me!

( Edward Lear, the quangle wangle’s hat )

.

not a haiku

.

https://www.napowrimo.net

Napowrimo Day 30

the final prompt

write a cento. This is a poem that is made up of lines taken from other poems. If you’d like to dig into an in-depth example, here’s John Ashbery’s cento “The Dong with the Luminous Nose,” and here it is again, fully annotated to show where every line originated. A cento might seem like a complex undertaking – and one that requires you to have umpteen poetry books at your fingertips for reference – but you don’t have to write a long one. And a good way to jump-start the process is to find an online curation of poems about a particular topic (or in a particular style), and then mine the poems for good lines to string together. You might look at the Poetry Foundation’s collection of love poems, or its collection of poems by British romantic poets, or even its surprisingly expansive collection of poems about (American) football.

defiant chill in the air

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summer’s here, not gone, you insist

it’s beauty emptying and fermenting

tempting trees to bare their teeth and throw down arms

though barely September, winds whinge and whine

querulous as a passels of squirrels rustling and thieving stashes of nuts

but autumn comes in hobbling like two old biddies in dirtied petticoats —mouths

prattling, puckered as a skinny cow’s arse and just as fetidly malted

shocking as the hot stench of wolves on the cooled nostrils on a fist of horses

shivering, prickling as a torment of digits in agony on the return of blood as tips thaw out

summer’s not gone… you insist, hunkered into your nest of jewels and tattered letters —

like a tiny brown shrew nibbling whortleberries that stain like gossiped loot —

the colours, taste and scent that lasts well past memory, dribbled and inked in wines

behind preserving glasses- solitarily grasping at remnants of loves and leaves almost gone

to seeds, pulling heads in for a duration you shall not mention or admit —

except in the writing of this

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not a haiku

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p.s A whortleberry is a forest-foraged berry, also known as a bilberry or huckleberry. Traditionally, after a harvest of them was sent to the kitchens of London and other important towns, ( from Porlock and its environs ) remnants were sent to be used in the dying of airmen’s uniforms. (So i’m informed)

https://www.napowrimo.net

Napowrimo day 26.-

A couple of days ago, we played around with hard-boiled similes. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that contains at least one of a different kind of simile – an epic simile. Also known as Homeric similes, these are basically extended similes that develop over multiple lines. Perhaps unsurprisingly, they have mainly been used in epic poems, typically as decorative elements that emphasize the dramatic nature of the subject (see, by way of illustration, this example from Milton’s Paradise Lost). But you could write a complete poem that is just one lengthy, epic simile, relying on the surprising comparison of unlike things to carry the poem across. And if you’re feeling especially cheeky, you could even write a poem in which the epic simile spends lines heroically and dramatically describing something that turns out to be quite prosaic. Whatever you decide to compare, I hope you have fun extending your simile(s) to epic lengths.

indignant breakfast

me wus , i profess, perfectly happy

as bread

but instead me gets sliced and stuffed

under a red hot grill til i’m toast!

.

wusn’t it ‘nuff me got pummeled ‘n punched

when me wus just a bit of dough

— me didn’t need that!

and unceremoniously shoved in an oven

— me actually loved that!

i rise under torture a beaut!

but toast?!

an insult

even if some like it hot, up to a point, me don’t

aaargh, nearly burnt

meeeeee!

ahhhhh, smooth sooth meeee

with butter and jam

wham!

what’s this…?

teeth! struth!

i can’t believe it!

what new hell is……

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not a haiku

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https://www.napowrimo.net/

NaPoWriMo day 20 prompt

write a poem that anthropomorphizes a kind of food. It could be a favorite food of yours, or maybe one you feel conflicted about. I feel conflicted about Black Forest Cake, for example. It always looks so pretty in a bakery window, and I want to like the combination of cherries and chocolate . . . but I don’t. But how does the cake feel about it?

breakfast love

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like a river i hold close in my arms, my body

your run through me — a quiver

of arrows and slings stroke my limbs, my mind

like stars plucked for your eyes to startle me

a name stammered and chimed — a sound

surrounds — a kind of grace escapes

.

i’ve lain down in moonlit thoughts of you

awoke to the sun of your skin and fingers

taunting the morning with stolen scents —

of your breath as breakfast, love

of murmurs of bees stirring my hair

a dapple of flowers gathering

over a slither of summer heather

over darkened hills, a moan, a chill

a gasp of lemon-dazzle glints blackening

the shiny stones of you blinding

me to other

worlds

other landscapes

other loves

drowned out

.

this is my sorrow, my secret, my dove

the rain in my mouth announces it

no other

hears it

as happiness

swallows

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not a haiku

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NapoWriMo day 10 :- write a love poem

https://www.napowrimo.net