Poetry / Food of love (Analysis)

After we’d talked, and kissed, in the park
My evening teemed with cookery.

First, the functional:  a stir-fry,
Green leeks sizzling, the headiness of coriander,

Sloshed with a rich-brewed shoyu sauce
And served up on its steamy bed of rice.

Having fed my family, my thoughts ran free.
My wife went out, and the children slept in bed.

To the turbulent music of the dishwasher
And a burble of Mozart from the front room,

First came the beetroot:  peeling off its jacket,
Wrinkled and dusted grey with organic earth.

Stern, robust slices revealed hidden pantones of juice:
Magenta on the knife, blood-red on the wooden board.

Its sweetness stained my fingers and the food-processor,
As I compressed it into the whirring blades.

A crisp head of cabbage followed,
Then I manhandled the warm mess into a willing bowl.

Roasting seeds – sunflower and sesame –
Scorched in an iron pan.

Hissing as they met moist salad,
Their potent scent clung to my clothes and hair.

I tossed it all in a tahini dressing,
And added apple juice to keep it sweet.

And so to the apples themselves –
Peeling and paring my mother-in-law’s windfalls,

Briskly excising their crisp white hearts,
Spirals, curls.

Tenderly checking them for bruises and bites,
Then rendering their flesh to a pulp.

A punnetful of skins and blemishes
Formed a marker for my efforts.

The pastry was a compliant skin,
Stretched out under my firm hands.

I added apple, nutmeg, cinnamon [I like a little spice],
Then pressed its warm dry lips together.

I rolled its heavy body over, face down,
And slashed four slits, peepholes for fruity juices.

Into the heat of the oven my strudel went
And the suddenly-silent kitchen filled with music:

Beethoven’s Fantasia for piano and choir,
Ringing through resonant, passionate and clear.

[A dry run for his better-known Ode to Joy,
A later and consummate, fully-fledged feast,

In a world beyond washing up
And indigestion].

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Andrew_Tortora avatar General Stranger

April 13, 2008

Andrew_Tortora

REVIEW QUALITY: 100.0%(1 vote ) personal info reviewer stats
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I for the most part enjoyed this however you could either alter or forego even using these lines “A punnetful of skins and blemishes formed a marker for my efforts. The pastry was a compliant skin,stretched out under my firm hands.”
I think it becomes a bit repetitious there, and would probably fair better if you just got rid of the former.        

teaddub avatar General Friend

April 11, 2008

teaddub

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teaddub reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

Nicely done.

This is evocative and the visualizations are clear. It is beautifully spoken, and is enough to make one hungry.

I have an issue, I guess, with idea it is about love. I may define love a different way. You kiss someone, not your wife, and then go cook for your family, and the food of love, the pastry, and the sweets are not cooked until the rest of the family goes to bed.

I get the metaphor. I just think that it is more about a selfish emotion not love. If this were love your family would share the sweet, and the kiss in the park would have been with your wife.

The language is awesome, the message twisted. With poetry it is all a part of the purpose and meaning of the whole. Before you say I have just talked about morals, which I have, understand that for each reader a different set of morals applies. For those with morals like mine, this is a dirty piece. For those with morals like yours I am sure this has much beauty. Kudos?!

metaphoricalsimile avatar General Stranger

April 11, 2008

metaphoricalsimile

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metaphoricalsimile reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

Overall, this is too literal for my tastes in poetry.  That being said, it seemed as though you may have been using music as a metaphor for the smell of the strudel permeating the kitchen.  But if that were the case, what’s the point of the stanza after that compares the music to Ode to Joy?

I think if you made a poem that used music as a metaphor for the sensory impact of food, it could be good.

JamesPatrick avatar General Stranger

April 10, 2008

JamesPatrick

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I really enjoyed your imagery—the combination of family life with gourmet cooking was unique in that it linked a domestic duty (cooking, cleaning) with a sense of fulfilment that was almost divine (Ode to Joy). The choice of music was a nice spice to the piece.

In particular I found the line about slicing the strudle most poignent. It stood out because of its violent and maybe sexual context.  Or looking for bruises and then mashing the fruit to pulp.  This right after the line of the children sleeping.  It’s a very intersting poem.  One question is why you chose to seperate the first line into two clauses? Why is ‘and kissed’ a parenthetical?

GreenIguana avatar General Stranger

March 15, 2008

GreenIguana Prolific-icon-medium

REVIEW QUALITY: 100.0%(1 vote ) personal info reviewer stats
GreenIguana reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

Fun, it was tasty! My only complaint is the word “punnetful” is this really a word? Also, it seems you were making several different dishes and perhaps you want to make a more distinct break between each “recipe.”

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Doctor_Rat

Age: 48
Loc: United Kingdom
Gen: M
Last Login: November 15
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