“One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.”
― A Room of One's Own
― A Room of One's Own
 |
| 10/16 is World Food Day. |
“There are people in the world so hungry, that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread.”
―
―
“Let food be thy medicine and medicine be thy food.”
―
―
Midweek Motif ~ The Food We Eat
What is your Recipe for a Healthy Life?
What foods do you eat (or wish you were eating)??
Go to the links above to read about World Food Day. Or simply answer the question(s) literally or conceptually ~ with luscious details, of course ~ in a brand new poem. I hope you find the quotes, poems and illustrations inspiring!
What foods do you eat (or wish you were eating)??
Go to the links above to read about World Food Day. Or simply answer the question(s) literally or conceptually ~ with luscious details, of course ~ in a brand new poem. I hope you find the quotes, poems and illustrations inspiring!
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
 |
| Sliced fruit |
Cutting greens
curling them around
i hold their bodies in obscene embrace
thinking of everything but kinship.
collards and kale
strain against each strange other
away from my kissmaking hand and
the iron bedpot.
the pot is black,
the cutting board is black,
my hand,
and just for a minute
the greens roll black under the knife,
and the kitchen twists dark on its spine
and I taste in my natural appetite
the bond of live things everywhere. |
| Kale (left) and Collard Greens (right) |
. . . .
we sprinkle the flour on the kitchen table
and it is snowing on Ararat
we sprinkle the flour and the memory
of winter is in our eyes
we roll the dough out
into small circles
pale moons over
every empty village
Kevork is standing on a chair
and singing
O my Armenian girl
my spirit longs to be nearer
Nevrig is warming the oven
and a dry desert breeze
is skimming over the rooftops
toward the sea
we are spreading the lahma
on the ajoun with our fingers
whispering into it the histories
of those who have none
. . . .
. . . .
 |
| Lahmajoun,Turkish and Armenian |
Eating Fried Chicken
I hate to admit this, brother, but there are times
When I’m eating fried chicken
When I think about nothing else but eating fried chicken,
When I utterly forget about my family, honor and country,
The various blood debts you owe me,
My past humiliations and my future crimes—
Everything, in short, but the crispy skin on my fried chicken.
But I’m not altogether evil, there are also times
When I will refuse to lick or swallow anything
That’s not generally available to mankind.
(Which is, when you think about it, absolutely nothing at all.)
And no doubt that’s why apples can cause riots,
And meat brings humiliation,
And each gasp of air
Will fill one’s lungs with gun powder and smoke. |
| Fried Chicken |
Please share your new poem
using Mr. Linky below and visit others in the spirit of the community—
(Next week Sumana’s Midweek Motif will be ~ Forgiveness.)
