No one who cooks, cooks alone. Even at her most solitary, a cook in the kitchen is surrounded by generations of cooks past, the advice and menus of cooks present, the wisdom of cookbook writers.
~Laurie Colwin
Three poems today, all about "ordinary" things: food, laundry, a doctor's check-up. This first one is also kind of a "Where I'm From" poem:
A Mediocre Vegetarian Remembers the Pleasures of Slow Cooker
Ownership from Her Childhood
by Erin Renee Wahl
It is good to have a slow
cooker in the house.
I know my mother best,
throwing concoctions together
quickly in the early mornings
before yellow buses and goodbye
read the rest here
**********
A couple of poems by Jim Richards:
Laundry
by Jim Richards
What we owned was piled on the bed
and warmed the room with the smell
of bodies, bleach, and dryer sheets.
You, on one side, folded the colors
and I, on the other, the whites. Between us,
years, children, holes in the knees, stains.
read the rest here
**********
I love the ending on this one :-)
Doctor
by Jim Richards
When you check me, look deep.
I lost something in all that darkness.
When you examine my ears
fine tune the small bones for music.
read the rest here
**********
Bonus links and catch-up: Michelle Kogan has a post about IMPERFECT. Last week, Brenda Davis Harsham had a post about IMPERFECT. The week before that, Diane shared a poem I wrote about Vincent Lunardi's cat.
Beyond Literacy Link has the Poetry Friday round-up. Thanks, Carol!
15 comments:
I so enjoyed "Vincent Lunardi's Cat Has Her Say." Thanks for sending it my way.
I also like this from your "I Am From Project" poem: bliss of blank paper. It shows you're quite comfortable with committing your thoughts to that paper.
Boy, that Veggie Slow Cooker poem is savoringly delicious!
I enjoyed your cat poem and the info surrounding it a few weeks back on Diane's Blog. Couldn't seem to get the links working on the Jim Richards poems. Thanks Tabatha!
I got it fixed! Thanks! :-)
What a lovely, homely trio. I love the adventures of the slow cooker, and the way "my stomach started
to remember what the slow
cooker was really for"
brings us back to the present.
I loved "Laundry" - and these last, poignant lines:
We knew that most of what we did
would be undone, but it kept us coming back
to the same bed, the same warm room.
Dear Tabatha, yes, I'll take a shot of moonlight... with Sirius on the side! These are all wonderful. Thank you! xo
I love the last line of the Wahl poem and the scents and foods described. What a wonderful poem. Thanks for sharing.
I wonder what my doctor would say if I asked for "a shot of moonlight", Tabatha. Each one is a loving poem for the small things, what I like and I imagine others do, too. I especially love "we could smell with our tongues", taking me back to a grandmother's kitchen this time. Thanks for all the extras on that link, too.
Of course I'm swooning over the slow cooker poem -- looking forward to cooler weather so I can fix up some stews and pot roast. :) Laundry is reassuring, and the doctor poem made me smile. Thanks for these and for the Laurie Colwin quote (love her!).
I ADORE that you find poems on "common" themes - housework! A slow cooker! Cheers for the poetry we find in the everyday, to elevate the mundane into the beautiful.
*pulls out slow cooker and considers creating*
Thanks for poems about the ordinary that have me reflecting on life. Laundry is such a beautiful love poem and Doctor conjured up some interesting images - "When you examine my ears fine tune the small bones for music."
Oh, I'm glowing for a while after reading these poems. I love every day poems. They are tough to write. Smelling with our tongues, marrying socks....so many common moments made special. Thank you for these, this week. I love them.
Especially loved the slow cooker poem, though I did have to double check to make sure this was, indeed, your blog and not Jama's! LOL
Hi, Tabatha. All three lovely and homely (and also inspiring to see that there are so many places to publish). I like them all, but perhaps "Doctor" is the one speaking loudest to me today. <3 "I lost something in all that darkness."
I loved the slow cooker poem--and my slow cookers (not one, but three. My college student daughter already has two of her own too. We might have a problem--or a potential poem). Then I read the Doctor one--and that ending, oh my!
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