Was enjoying a daydream in a traffic jam yesterday at this time - and already over the dead days and energised to get going with the next things. But loved this poem and this prompt - gave me a new way to approach my own poem task for my poets group which I was beginning to regret. Thankyou and happy new year.
Fog is as fickle as soup
murky, spicy, nourishing.
Moon is as pearly as night-dew
lit in the depths of darkness,
she hangs in the daytime
like a communion wafer
waiting to be consummed
wow! i absolutely LOVE this, Maggie!
Was enjoying a daydream in a traffic jam yesterday at this time - and already over the dead days and energised to get going with the next things. But loved this poem and this prompt - gave me a new way to approach my own poem task for my poets group which I was beginning to regret. Thankyou and happy new year.
Family as Mixed Up as Christmas Cake
after Maya Krishnan
We won’t starve, that’s for sure
slumping, deep fried and glistening
in the half dark. We lurk
in the kitchens, dropping in bits
to the floor. Look at us all dressed up, decorated to the nines
and roiling in brandy.
See how we cling, some of us
fat as butter, the nutty ones
taking us to the edge.
Belonging squashed together,
with egg on our faces,
we are altogether too much for some,
they can’t stomach us.
So leave us alone, nestling on a bed
of silver under a blanket of snow,
sticky and imperfect,
rich in all things.