"eggplants" poems
At a hermitage:
A cool fall night--
getting dinner, we peeled
eggplants, cucumbers.
3.8k
let's talk about his
peanut butter thighs
and his cashew eyes
his cloaked voice that
floods me when he
speaks, and his
big hands and thin
fingers. Let's talk about
all of his parts that make
him whole and makes
my eggplant legs go
bump bump
in the night.
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 12:30 PM UTC
a
basket
full of
tasty fruits
and
purple
eggplants
to
calm down
the
aggressive mode of
the
silverback gorilla
in the
congo green forest
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 2:00 PM UTC
but nobody will want me, she said
I am the purple duckling.
My feathers curl to the wind
My eyes, they roll like marbles
in the sun.
My feet walk backwards
to the beach to look for
glass instead of fish.
Who will take me in,
not to rip away my feathers
for fluff and blankets
but to hold me
in their laps and
treasure my wings like
jewels?
My pack is all green-wearers.
their beaks a matching row.
they left me under the
Ash tree and said
She'll never grow.
But if I hold up my candle
to the inscription that
is written on my fading
dignity
hope it will say;
Purple is also the colour
of strength and
royalty
not just eggplants and shells.
so roll their barbs off
your back
and some
day you too, will
find your
Rightful Pond.
Feb 6, 2011
Feb 6, 2011 at 8:26 PM UTC
In the kitchen,
......fragrance is eclectic......in spices
fresh, some stewing with other ingredients...garlic
ginger, and bits of pork, and shrimp paste, blending
flavors in boiling coconut juice...sliced eggplants, cut string
beans, squared squash, and squash blossoms will be dropped
soon................in a separate pan, fish is deep fried...
joining this redolence, is
the smell of plucked sweetsop tree leaves, and dry grass,
touched by rain.....raindrops shyly tip-tap on the hot roof,
flowing down on the eaves, dripping sparingly, softly hits
the steaming creviced grounds....a hushed sound follows...
red, blue, brown, beige roofs adorn the graying horizon...
too early for thunder and lightning...gray clouds hang low
...more tears from Heaven threaten to flow
the front garden beckons...awaits to be rearranged
.....peach, purple, mauve and verdant colors surround
........there's music! the air is rich with a mix of sounds:
the neighbor's washing machine is running...cats are meowing,
purring, the rooster keeps crowing...seems, dog is vocalizing,
a pleasant crescendo...as water in the basin overflows...
...i could see invisible arrows, leading me...seeming didactic
...where to go, what to do, this morning so eclectic
...but.....
i savor what remains of a late breakfast of red sausages,
......and the smell of almost gone coffee...so pleasant, as
drying bubbles cling to the rim of the mug......electric fans
are turned towards the table.....to dispel hot, humid air,
........plates are ready......there is always cooked rice,
...........lunch is served.
Sally
Copyright August 27, 2017
rrab
Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 11:00 PM UTC
there's strange fruit hanging from the tree
we planted in the garden
those giant eggplants i can see
in cloth wrapped, burnt and hardened
the white ghosts cooked them on the vine
while chanting blasphemies in time
to metered prose of Tennyson's E. Arden
(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
Dec 12, 2012
Dec 12, 2012 at 10:52 PM UTC
She is searching for good eggplants,
me, a bundle of decent radishes
and an avocado.
She’s been eating licorice
or chocolate; her lips
are ringed dark.
I smile at the contrast between
her pale skin and licorice or
chocolate, she looks up,
bemused; similar to the way
you would respond if seeing
a calico in a fall pear tree.
We look at one another
for two seconds or so;
I figure me no good,
and leave.
Sep 5, 2016
Sep 5, 2016 at 9:42 AM UTC
An Exercise in Love
~for Jackson Allen
My friend wears my scarf at his waist
I give him moonstones
He gives me shell & seaweeds
He comes from a distant city & I meet him
We will plant eggplants & celery together
He weaves me cloth
Many have brought the gifts
I use for his pleasure
silk, & green hills
& heron the color of dawn
My friend walks soft as a weaving on the wind
He backlights my dreams
He has built altars beside my bed
I awake in the smell of his hair & cannot remember
his name, or my own.
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 5:44 PM UTC
In the midst of the long chaos in Gaza.
Also difficulties and limitations in any way.
There is a ten year old little girl named Renad.
Who has an unbreakable spirit.
To do her own food cooking show.
You can see her almost every day on Tiktok.
Renad always looks cheerful.
Laughing in front of the camera while showing the ingredients she will cook.
Onions , eggplants , tomatoes , garlics , fava beans , spices , luncheon and others.
She mixes all the ingredients then cooks them quickly.
Maqluba , mulukhiya , musakhan , manakesh , whatever she can cook.
Then she shows it to the camera.
Renad is always proud to show the food she cooks.
Then she starts eating slowly while explaining the taste.
With an expression full of enjoyment she chews her food.
Making anyone who sees feel wants to taste it.
After that she smiles with satisfaction and says.
BETJANIN !...
December 2024
By Alvian Eleven
Dec 15, 2024
Dec 15, 2024 at 4:29 AM UTC
Painted toes, the color of ripe eggplants
Flutter and kick around as giggles bubble the rim of my hard edges
Days gone by in silence, broken now by mirth
Drunk on a spring afternoon's nectar
I catch the sparkle in your eye, knowing
What comes next will have me breathless, wanting
"Please" whispered softly as giggles fade to sighs
You love it when I beg
I need this, you, here in the sunshine
Gilded fingertips tracing my tarnish
Chasing away the darkness with the promise of warmth
Apr 14, 2020
Apr 14, 2020 at 12:07 PM UTC
distracted people lay
IN THE GRASSES OF ETERNITY
they gaze, just empty hands
OPEN PALMS TO THEIR EYES
the mother coughs, sweats and weeps
BEEFY FLESH SHARED AS SERENITY
the eggplants lay withering in dying foliage
IGNORANCE FEEDS INTO DISGUSTING LIES
the communications they commit
waste what little time and
breath they have left
no shred of passion is left,
they all commit to be planted
and dare not care
every mouth of movement spills out
repeated nonsense, repeated quotes
from things of repeated nature
however it is not the repetition that makes them vile
its the lack of acknowledgement it receives
the lack of emotion for anything
CONSCIOUS OR UNCONSCIOUS
and the ones i connect to,
are dead, or changed forever,
for better or fo-
no
just for ******* worse.
you are on your own,
and when you realize that
you seize solitude as a piece of pride.
Jun 1, 2018
Jun 1, 2018 at 1:40 PM UTC
Loving her was like
Being in headphones
Listen to your brand new and
Favorite cheesy song
Full of her dulcet words
And melisonant melody
I grokked nothing
I used to fell my heart
Wandering in fantasy place
My spirit lavitating in paradize sky
Of her thoughts
Squinting a pierced glance
With pleasure and admiration
Of her love
I felt like she had made for me
I used to eye her in
My dreams
Together flying with wings
diving in daisy full of drainage
In form of the clouds
Smiling like bitten eggplants on top
I thought she was my answer
Until she comes and
Take them away from
My poor pate
And threw them away in horizon
Loneliness was the only mate
She left me with.
Now i have a backpack full of
sorrow and pain
A bottle on the left side sac full
Of her lies and promises
Inside there is a book of our memories
Hanging with all staffs we did together
And a wax match in left back pocket of my jeans
And a black shovel in my right hand
I need to burn them all to ashes
And dig a long hole
And bury them painstakingly
To make sure they never haunt in
My mind
Cause i've realized
Maybe i need to love myself
First
Before learning how to
unlove the immersing her
And make her my sturdy confinement
So i have to follow my heart
And put the rest in God hands
Cause i know my God
Always win.
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 10:30 PM UTC
Dance with the devil with
two chicken feet,
spilled beans
pills reeking of sin,
braided veins, clenching fists,
the Lord is my shepherd when
I'm the sheep,
manifesting brethren and manifestos
of governments,
depopulation of educated slaves,
drink from the cup that
defines your worth,
***** lips, thoughts in braille,
diabetic oldies and cabbages,
dead fetuses and tomatoes,
manhood and eggplants,
sterile women eating omelets,
abandoned kids eating goat meat,
buried underneath slubs,
subscribe to the notifications
of corrupted media,
mutating phobias, the feared is
the victim.
Poets and marijuana,
writers' block and emotionless poems,
******** eating molds,
fungus and bacteria foams.
Hide righteousness in a cloak,
dangling nerves have strangled
our generation!!!
Club Controller;
Boom bap,
*** shaking,
wombs filled with ghosts of babies,
Ovaries now main ingredients for corporate omelets.
Adam and Eve,
the dominant and the submissive,
Bitten forbidden fruit on Apple logos.
Artificial intelligence,
human negligence,
mummified peasants,
death is proud of its workspace.
Institutions judging
black ops as being too rebellious for success,
stores selling tumours
and diabetes symptoms.
Atheists and theists fighting in poetry pieces.
Innocent citizens dodging bullets whilst diving into graves,
mortuary polluted with the smell of corpses with gunpowder in small spaces.
Free our souls,
stop polishing the chains that shackle us,
remove handcuffs that have extended to our throats whilst we dangle from Amarula branches.
Deceived intellectuals,
searching for Nirvana in cannabis trips,
mocking poetry,
seeing Shakespeare as a founding father.
Deception poeticized,
corruption politicized!
The truth is my artery,
wisdom is my capillary,
poetry is the hidden mos code in my fingerprints.
Poetry is the stem to
ascend truth into the human language,
use it for no social
media whilst
marketing for likes!!!
Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 6:16 AM UTC
(morning twilight)
\0/ \0/
\0/
In the drowsy stillness of
morning twilight.....when
feet are still huddled beneath
a light cotton sheet...the urge
to get up is not too strong
the bed, a hammock of quietude,
is comfortably warm with body heat.
this is the moment....fresh sounds
fresh air, fresh ideas, renewed hope,
all come in...all flow cool and smooth,
joining this civil dawn's atmosphere
......................
i emerge from a peaceful inertia
from this stream of calming thoughts,
rising..........breaking silence...........
......to be at the helm...as usual
........................................
...........................................
fried hungarian sausages for breakfast?
...grilled bass and eggplants for lunch?
fried chicken, fried fishcakes for dinner?
with sliced tomatoes and cucumbers?
...................................
is there enough bread, rice, water,
meat, fish to last for the week?
in this lengthening pandemic?
..............................
.........................
coffee mug is still half-filled....slices
of fried plantain stare back, begging
to be eaten, as chicken, veggies, fish
recipes razzle-dazzle in my mind
a normal moment in my mornings
.............................
oh well...am pouring more coffee
☕️☕️☕️
....................
que sera, sera
Sally
©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
May 24, 2020
4:34 AM
May 23, 2020
May 23, 2020 at 4:34 PM UTC