...quiet, about a lot of things...
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Poetry Thursday-Manga
My youngest,Maggie, returned from visiting my mom in California last night. My eldest, Rachel, is still there, set to return on Sunday.
My mom and I aren't close...which is an entirely different story. But, she loves, adores, CONSUMES my kids, like the last crumbs of sustenance on earth. My mom is a foodie, as is my sister. Both great cooks...
Maggie buzzes around my house this morning like a cricket hopped up on corn syrup. On the way home from the airport,last night, she asked if there was any food in the house, or if we needed to stop at the grocery store. I looked at Michael, who was driving, in horror. Did we need to call an deprogrammer, so soon, to wash the FOOD CULT off of her?
My mom always has a fringe STUFFED, (and I do mean STUFFED) with food. The one time she has made it out to Colorado, she was dismayed at the state of MY fridge, and pantry. Both had shelves with space on them...empty...STILL!! She snuck off to buy duplicates of thing I already had, in her brand, or picked by her fingers. Quickly doubling my provisions,.. I was now prepared to feed my block of neighbors, if need be.
By the end of Moms visit, she was ready to go home, having searched all the markets in the area for supplies. She was spent. But as with any addiction, the dark side of her obsession, had made an appearance. Mom lamented the waste, and the guilt, all should feel, on wasting SO MUCH FOOD. There are starving people, all over the world. "I worked hard on this...don't let it go to waste.." was the athem of the week. When she left, my family was bloated, bulging at the seams, looking for a place to lay down and digest. Uncomfortably full of the shame and obligation,(fed on fine crackers, and iced cakes)...all we wanted was a fast.
Driving home, I feared my mom had piped Maggie full, with the permanent longing for more food..Better food!!! But at last... my mags, gave her true self away. Once home, my hubbie, ran back out to the store for some benadryl for me...(AAAACHOOO). He asked Mags if she needed anything... and..she looked around, greatful to be home, in her kitchen of only 3 oranges and 2 banannas..(instead of 10!)..Maggie looked up at us,saying... "nope, don't need anything,,...well maybe some FRUITY PEBBLEs for breakfast...I missed you guys!".
So, we are back to this morning, Maggie watching cartoons, with a bowl of cereal...and me cooking up Poetry Thurday's selection... FOOD
Mangiare
To
have a
child
who is
a picky eater,
is
to
raise a
child
who can
not
tear
at the
sweet
rib bones
of
life.
this
truely
must be
a sin.
Yet,
to have
a child,
who can
not
push away
thus
indulges
too much
is
a shame
a dirty secret
a stain
that returns,
no matter
the bleach
used.
this
lesson learned
early,
she
wipes her
hands
on her apron,
and waits
til
everything
is
silent,
except for
the
chewing...
to sneak
out back
for a
smoke.
wlf 9:53am
Get your second helping here at POETRY THURSDAY! Enjoy!!
My mom and I aren't close...which is an entirely different story. But, she loves, adores, CONSUMES my kids, like the last crumbs of sustenance on earth. My mom is a foodie, as is my sister. Both great cooks...
Maggie buzzes around my house this morning like a cricket hopped up on corn syrup. On the way home from the airport,last night, she asked if there was any food in the house, or if we needed to stop at the grocery store. I looked at Michael, who was driving, in horror. Did we need to call an deprogrammer, so soon, to wash the FOOD CULT off of her?
My mom always has a fringe STUFFED, (and I do mean STUFFED) with food. The one time she has made it out to Colorado, she was dismayed at the state of MY fridge, and pantry. Both had shelves with space on them...empty...STILL!! She snuck off to buy duplicates of thing I already had, in her brand, or picked by her fingers. Quickly doubling my provisions,.. I was now prepared to feed my block of neighbors, if need be.
By the end of Moms visit, she was ready to go home, having searched all the markets in the area for supplies. She was spent. But as with any addiction, the dark side of her obsession, had made an appearance. Mom lamented the waste, and the guilt, all should feel, on wasting SO MUCH FOOD. There are starving people, all over the world. "I worked hard on this...don't let it go to waste.." was the athem of the week. When she left, my family was bloated, bulging at the seams, looking for a place to lay down and digest. Uncomfortably full of the shame and obligation,(fed on fine crackers, and iced cakes)...all we wanted was a fast.
Driving home, I feared my mom had piped Maggie full, with the permanent longing for more food..Better food!!! But at last... my mags, gave her true self away. Once home, my hubbie, ran back out to the store for some benadryl for me...(AAAACHOOO). He asked Mags if she needed anything... and..she looked around, greatful to be home, in her kitchen of only 3 oranges and 2 banannas..(instead of 10!)..Maggie looked up at us,saying... "nope, don't need anything,,...well maybe some FRUITY PEBBLEs for breakfast...I missed you guys!".
So, we are back to this morning, Maggie watching cartoons, with a bowl of cereal...and me cooking up Poetry Thurday's selection... FOOD
Mangiare
To
have a
child
who is
a picky eater,
is
to
raise a
child
who can
not
tear
at the
sweet
rib bones
of
life.
this
truely
must be
a sin.
Yet,
to have
a child,
who can
not
push away
thus
indulges
too much
is
a shame
a dirty secret
a stain
that returns,
no matter
the bleach
used.
this
lesson learned
early,
she
wipes her
hands
on her apron,
and waits
til
everything
is
silent,
except for
the
chewing...
to sneak
out back
for a
smoke.
wlf 9:53am
Get your second helping here at POETRY THURSDAY! Enjoy!!
Labels: Poetry Thursday
7 Comments:
I really like the sardonic twist at the end of the poem (and how you cover so much ground so quickly!).
Funny how moms can look at a closet, a pantry, a bathroom, and so quickly "fix" it all for you. On one hand, it is endearing, and on the other hand, it can be frightful.
to
raise a
child
who can
not
tear
at the
sweet
rib bones
of
life.
This is wonderful!
And the ending is also great.
Strong emotion in this piece. The end, unexpected--an excellent twist. The super short lines work for the first stanza--a visual of a skinny kid/picky eater. Wonder if more traditional lines might work later in the poem.
Good stuff.
Fabulous! Unexpected ending; the varying emotions associated with food. Is she smoking rather than eating - to stay thin? Well done, you!
I like the way the poem is so thin!
It has a certain build-up to it, and then almost a 'let down' with the cigarette out the back - a wicked poem methinks! Full of guilt ... a bit of rebellion.
You are an excellent poet, a very good writer of essays also. I enjoy reading your stuff, and it's good to have you back! Thanks for your comments on my stuff!
You expressed my feeling better than I could this week. You can't win. If you aren't eating everything, somehow you are seen as not enjoying all life has to offer. If you are eating with gusto, you are viewed with admiration -- but only until the pounds begin to show.
BTW, there is NO hidden meaning in my bratwurst :-).
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