Art Achoke - an impromptu poem
I feel I need
to write more
but sometimes
I feel I talk
too much and the people
who listen already know
or misunderstand
and the people who don't
don't care anyway
and sometimes it's easier
to find and consume
busier work
and choke
to write more
but sometimes
I feel I talk
too much and the people
who listen already know
or misunderstand
and the people who don't
don't care anyway
and sometimes it's easier
to find and consume
busier work
and choke
*
Hmmm. Serendipity, maybe. Or not. I don't know. But since you shared, I will...I wrote this poem a few years back.
A lot of folks don't get it. I wrote it a week after the suicide of a friend. I was not able to eat for three or four days after, and when I did discover I was hungry...an artichoke was the only thing I wanted to eat.
SO,
Eating an Artichoke
There is no basket of bread
and fish substitute
no matter how steady the hand
holding the whole Green Globe or Northern Star
when you cut the thistle from the fleshy bracts
cleave the whole into halves
the parts are always uneven.
So you pry away the petals,
note the irony, how a Sunchoke
is a tuber which grows underground
and became adopted of Jerusalem.
Know it is work, nothing but
scraping the inedible from the center
but save that last part for last
there is so much more in this to savor.
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I like your poem, Melanie! I'd love to include it in the Crisis Chronicles Online Library, with your permission. If you agree, please send me a photo and short bio of yourself (to include with your poem) to jc@crisischronicles.com
Feel free to send more poems, too.
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Very cute poem. Wanted you and your subscribers to know I have organized a writers group. Ohio Writers Network. We have a meeting on Tuesday Nov 9 at Borders on the Strip, Canton. I'd love to see any of you there!
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Thanks, Christina! What time is it?
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I think you think too much.
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better than thinking too little, methinks...
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