The falafel of those who left
is richer with their loss
than it is with olive oil
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Monday, December 31, 2018
Thursday, December 27, 2018
Smells like Christmas
It smells like Christmas in my kitchen,
smells like the time I stopped
in the heart of the house
right in the middle like a clot
not moving nor let anyone move
to make Christmas over cold stoves
here is a list of things you need for cake
that serves 6, realistically
even if you are on your own:
* peeled apples
* 3/4 sugar
* flour
* cinnamon
* nutmeg
* salt (to taste)
I stand on a flat corner
kneading the flour
needing a listening ear
I stand in the corner
in my house,
shaking like a belly dancer after a long show
cupping powdered sugar to an empty heart
smells like the time I stopped
in the heart of the house
right in the middle like a clot
not moving nor let anyone move
to make Christmas over cold stoves
here is a list of things you need for cake
that serves 6, realistically
even if you are on your own:
* peeled apples
* 3/4 sugar
* flour
* cinnamon
* nutmeg
* salt (to taste)
I stand on a flat corner
kneading the flour
needing a listening ear
I stand in the corner
in my house,
shaking like a belly dancer after a long show
cupping powdered sugar to an empty heart
Labels:
Christmas,
elements,
fairy-tale,
food,
grace,
light,
loss,
love,
music,
passion,
play,
poem,
poetry,
private,
public,
season,
self poetry,
women relationship,
word-power,
words
Monday, December 17, 2018
even in tea
The tea here has your name
so I no longer drink it
dark, tall and handsome
the glass in my hand is empty
so I no longer drink it
dark, tall and handsome
the glass in my hand is empty
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