Benjamin Bartley Poet Free verse

Hot Poetry Soup

I like my soup hot.
Slurping the edge of the bowl carefully
So as not to get burnt.
These aromatic words are better than any drug.
But just as addictive ... with no hangover.
Though sometimes it still gets me high.
Or makes me cry with its blatant honesty.
So, I thank you, you Wizards of culinary delights.
For easing my hunger pains. Teasing my taste buds.
Inspiring me to be a better cook.
I feel less like a stranger in a strange kitchen.
With thousands of friends with their tongues in my ear.
Stirring up the pot in my soul. Tantalizing my dreams.
And when my bowl is empty, you leave me craving for more.
You and I are not a lost Art in some back ally squat.

Thank you for letting me sit at your table.
And you're always welcome at mine.

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Virginia Gelok January 1, 2025 at 7:44 PM this was not only enjoyable to read it sure made me want a bowl of your poetry soup. I rather enjoy using my own recipe though. So many of us sharing flavours and style which helps us build an even better poetry soup. I need all the help I can get. Thanks for sharing.

Sami Al-Khalili January 1, 2025 at 4:17 PM Very meta with the hot soup 'bout the poetrysoup. It's like a goulash up in here. I enjoyed your poem and share the same joy.

Duke Beaufort May 7, 2024 at 10:28 AM Benjamin, I love how you express the idea of community. You have a way with words. Some of us are busy with many different things and can only be here for small increments of time. I try to answer every comment that comes my way, but it becomes a chore. On the other hand, we are a community and we get out of this what we put into it. I think you have a lot to offer everyone here.