I allow myself the luxury of breakfast,
I am no saint to be honest,
three decades
of dawn spent sitting
outside alone with nothing but
consolation of coffee
and pitter
patter
of rain on the rooftop.
The atmosphere is enough to make a
philosopher out of anyone.
Caked in black these fingertips trace
the remainder
of charcoal whereon incense is burnt,
I write
whatever emotion
occupies me at the moment,
carob brown eyes admiring me for the efforts
that I make,
it isn’t easy, you see, I forget
what marmalade tastes
like when he opens his mouth to speak,
drop toast to the ground
every time he shares strawberry
cheese sentiments,
it’s almost
as though
food
is the last
thing
on his mind.
Still, I manage to whip up an omelette,
slice tomatoes into thin strips
and take notes from green chilies regarding
aftermath of heat,
it feels cruel,
something inside my heart isn’t
willing to let go so easily,
his lips are reminiscent of butter,
which is precisely why
I have to think
a little before
pressing mine to his—
do we
really need
spring onions in omelette for more flavor?
This breakfast I speak of is literal,
is metaphorical to the extent that pears
channel their sweetness,
walnut dusted,
it teaches one the significance of waiting
until the time is just right,
peeled, cored
and quartered, I wasn’t aware such knowledge
even existed,
like a dark side unleashed to cater to purity,
I bite into the pear
and let him explain
how exactly to use an oval gratin baking dish.
This is going to take a while.
Photo credits: Bread on White Ceramic Plate Beside Stainless Steel Fork, Pexels.
Loosely inspired from the poem “I allow myself” by Dorothea Grossman, for my prompt
where I invite others to explore the senses in food poetry. Come join us! 🩷
Posted for Poetics: Exploring the senses in Food Poetry @dVerse Poets Pub
35 Responses
Your poem is the perfect example, Sanaa. I love the appeal to all the senses, from the ‘pitter patter of rain on the rooftop’, the preparation of the omelette, and lips ‘reminiscent of butter’, to the walnut dusted pears. You made your readers voyeurs in this poem, and made me blush at these lines:
‘it’s almost
as though
food
is the last
thing
on his mind’.
Thank you so much, Kim 😍 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
Such delicious heat in your poem, Sanaa!
“his lips are reminiscent of butter,
which is precisely why
I have to think
a little before
pressing mine to his— “
Thank you so much, Merril 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
I think it is the jumping from one flavour to the next, strawberry to spring onions, omlette and chili that make this a memorable poem.
Thank you so much, Jane 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
The queen of romance….
I love these words: “The atmosphere is enough to make a philosopher out of anyone.” They made me smile. As did the question of needing spring onions! Well done!
Awww gosh! Thank you so much, Lillian 😍 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
Such a range of flavours here!
❤️❤️❤️
A veritable drama, not theatre, though as many antics as thoughts there are… but here, a real story, with lines bursting with the senses, but emotions too, thus my drama comment, finishing on sadness after an array of emotions that draws empathy to your narrating voice.
Thank you so much, Ain 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
This immediately made me wonder about breakfast being
enjoyed by some, skipped by others, but always the most important meal of the day.
Thank you so much, Christine 😀 so good to see you 💄❤️
We dudes love Barefoot Contessas like you, unwrapped for whipping up frappe! The instruction is delicious and the poetic deft. A reader could get chunky devouring this verse.
Hahaha thank you so much, B 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
I absolutely luv that second verse
much🤍love
Thank you so much, Gillena 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
Much love back to you 🥂
Beautiful poetry, Sanaa. Nothing like onion breath at breakfast! I can see why you think twice about that morning breakfast kiss!
Thank you so much, Dwight 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
Ah, Sanaa – we might have known that sensuality would not be confined to food alone…
Precisely! Thanks for stopping by, Andrew 💄❤️
the sweetness of patience is unparalleled! lovely writing …
Thank you so much, Ren 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
A smorgasbord of delights!
❤️❤️❤️
Oh so beautifully written Sanaa. Preparing food and cooking uses all the senses and you shown us here with your words. I really loved your poem 💕☺️
Thank you so much, Christine 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
I love all the flavors in this!
Thank you so much, Sara 😀 so good to see you 💄❤️
Gorgeous, sensuous, sumptuous, perfect. Can you tell I love it? Delectable in every sense!
Thank you so much, Jennifer 😀 so glad the poem and its imagery appealed to you 💄❤️
This is extremely clever and winning, Sunny. I enjoyed it a lot!
Thank you so much, Shay 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
Sigh, swoon, Loved hearing it too! I do love the little details – delicious.