The graphite sky broke like an egg on cherry floor
and just like that
I was consumed with a sense of loss;
why couldn’t I have been more careful while carrying them?
It’s absurd,
the mere expectation that an omelette can only be cooked
in a certain way, what about fillings?
Both raw and cooked, sweet and savory, why does one forget
that there is always a starting point—the only calibration
so that it can used in the exact way is the list of ingredients,
longing for the impossible
never really helps, I thought, getting rid of the scattered pieces,
all the while picking myself up from the floor;
these half-tones of human conscience that plague, we make mistakes,
make lots of them before finally establishing a firm footing.
I pause to let the eggs heat slightly and then stir vigorously,
freshly ground black pepper, like thunder clouds obscures everything
that lies ahead,
why does it feel like we have exhausted our emotions
and there’s only emptiness remaining?
The beauty of inconvenience,
the batter once again falls flat and along with it chiseled face,
I am not superstitious but at this rate even a black cat
would be cause for jumping,
glossy black hair covered in a masala mess of a situation,
I wouldn’t say I have missed it,
it’s certainly not a keratin treatment for which one pays
a ridiculous amount—we are yet to be written, yet to be concluded,
finely chopped herbs: basil, tarragon, chives
and thyme, let’s start all over again, I am at a point
when rhyming sounds like a better option, and yet
I smile to hear your honeyed words; in a way like sapphire rain
that speaks of night.
Photo credits: “Pouring beaten eggs on a frying pan,” by Klaus Nielsen, Pexels
Poem composed on Day Twenty-two of April Poem-a-Challenge 🍲
Skylover Wordlist: Graphite, masala, obscure, loss, beauty 💝
Wow, Sanaa, this is such a beautiful and evocative piece. <3 I enjoyed reading it and especially loved these lines:
"why does it feel like we have exhausted our emotions
and there’s only emptiness remaining?
The beauty of inconvenience,
the batter once again falls flat and along with it chiseled face,
I am not superstitious but at this rate even a black cat
would be cause for jumping,
glossy black hair covered in a masala mess of a situation,
I wouldn’t say I have missed it…"
Stunning!
Thank you so much, Lucy 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
Lots of ways to make love, um, I mean an omelet. Thank God nature takes care of so much.
Thank you so much, Brendan 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
LOVE AS OMELET, far out. Maybe one day you can write an erotic and/or romantic cook book. It would be popular and appealing. Think of the glaces and spices, the textures and smells. One can get hungry and horny at the same time.
Definitely! Thank you so much, Glenn 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
This is beautiful and funny and delicious. I’m sort of craving an omelette now. I love masala mess. I may have to start using that as a phrase. 😏 Honeyed words and sapphire rain is gorgeous! Thank you for hosting tonight!
Thank you so much, Merril 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
The omelette that is my brain at the end of the day deeply appreciates this
Thank you so much, Alexandra 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
Yummy poem. Enjoyed hearing you read Sanaa
Much 💜love
❤️❤️❤️
Your writing always has a way of captivating me. There are so many lines here that speak to me.
“these half-tones of human conscience that plague”
“The beauty of inconvenience”
“glossy black hair covered in a masala mess of a situation,”
Your poem is inspiring. Thank you for sharing it.
Thank you so much, Ali 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
this one really speaks to me Sanaa, particularly like “these half-tones of human conscience that plague” …. guessing I might have an omelet for supper tonight! You nailed it
Thank you so much, Kate 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
I’m echoing all the positive comments, SR. Yumalicious work & a blast and a half to hear you read it. Thanks! And thanks for hosting the OLN Live.
Thank you so much, Ron 😀 always a pleasure to host and have everyone enjoy themselves at dVerse OLN LIVE 💄❤️
So many layers here Sanaa, so many and so varied. Its like a recipe snd a lament, filled with inquiry and frustration. Strong write! A joy to hear you read it!
Thank you so much, Rob 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
So many lovely layers. Nicely penned.
❤️❤️❤️
I adore your writing! The idea of the sky cracking like eggs and we have to cook that omelet, what a chore at times –
why does it feel like we have exhausted our emotions
and there’s only emptiness remaining?
I can relate to every emotion in here, the “honeyed words” are a reprieve at the end! 💗
Awww gosh! Thank you so much, Tricia 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
Wonderful, wonderful poem – such a great extended metaphor!
Thank you so much, Kate 😀 so good to see you 💄❤️
As exquisite reading it as hearing is, Sanaa! Simply marvelous!
Thank you so much, Frank 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
these half-tones of human conscience that plague, we make mistakes,
make lots of them before finally establishing a firm footing.
Your words have a way of making Hank dreamy and then smile again. It tossed around to come back to reality. Wonderful write Sanaa!
Hank
Thank you so much, Hank 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
I love the analogy Sanaa. It made me smile and I completely “got it” ☺️💕
Thank you so much, Christine 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
A wonderful post Sanaa. I love the scrambled eggs as a metaphor for life’s experiences! So very well written. Loved this line… we are yet to be written, yet to be concluded…
Thank you so much, Dwight 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
suddenly i’m hungry, not sure why… i always enjoyed reading your poems, you’re quite skilled, enjoyed this very much
Thank you so much, Philip 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
I love all the sensory imagery here Sanaa, and the light touch which highlights serious questions. Beautiful! ❤️
Thank you so much, Ingrid 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
I thought this was my favorite line, Sanaa, until I read this:
Fantastic!
Much love <3
David
Thank you so much, David 😀 so good to see you 💄❤️
The recipe is always changing…and yet, somehow, we find and share nourishment.
Precisely! Thank you so much, Kerfe 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️