Long Spoonfuls Poems
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‘Twas the night before Christmas and I didn’t care;
I had dozens of latkes I had to prepare.
The menorah was ready, with candles to light,
Waiting there by the window, a wonderful sight.
The presents were wrapped and I lined up the dreidels;
The soup was a’bubble, with floating knaidels.
The applesauce waited to chill in the fridge
In a Chanukah bowl. (Yes, I tasted a smidge.)
The cookies were baked like my grandmother taught,
(So much better than any that anyone bought)
Shaped like candles and dreidels and six-sided stars;
There were plenty to fill cookie platters and jars.
When I suddenly sensed there was something the matter.
I raced to the kitchen – the oil was a’splatter!
For while I was fixing the festive display,
I should have been frying (not quite my forte).
The first batch of latkes was burnt to a crisp
And smoke filled the kitchen (much more than a wisp),
But tying my apron for take number two,
I ditched all the burnt ones and knew what to do.
I lowered the flame and reheated some oil,
Plopping spoonfuls of batter I wouldn’t let spoil.
Then I conjured my childhood and Chanukahs past,
When I had no idea years would fly by so fast.
And I pictured my nana and grandma, as well
As my parents, my grandfathers and Aunt Sydelle
And my brothers and sister and cousins galore
And my uncles and aunts I’ve not mentioned before.
While my latkes were frying, so crispy and gold,
I remembered how Chanukah used to unfold,
When we played with our dreidels and gathered our gelt,
In our family’s embrace and the love we all felt.
So I cooked the new latkes with patience and care,
Knowing that with my kids and my grandkids I’d share
All the pent-up emotions I’ve hidden inside
With a platter of latkes, now perfectly fried.
And to all who will celebrate Chanukah time,
I do hope there’s a lesson for you in this rhyme –
For the very-best feelings our childhoods instill,
Through traditions, our hearts and our bellies will fill.
December 7, 2022
HEAVY TUMBLING STORY
Before forbidden words
dawn to confess
Come... Come.. C O M E...
Uncoil your taste-buds to me
Entrust you health fully to thee
Yours truly,
FOOD
___________________________________
Enamored beyond possible reproach
I opened my mouth for crumbs of tasty
Crumbs later become spoonfuls
Spoonfuls turned to one, two, three plateful
Appetite feast in crescendo of daily treats
Boosting my body: front and rear - pound per pound
My clothes then groan: a cri de couer
Yet, desirous mouth craved for more and more
Eating up to the crust and core of everything
Months passed, Bigger! BIGGER, I come to be.
'Til even walking and standing, I can't do
My room - my only day and night intimate boo
My children, I robbed tardily of their joys
As their focus and attention divided by two
Fats stored everywhere on my bod
Gradually they are killing me - stealing my breaths
An oxygen via prongs must be on beside to help me breathe
My back an archipelago of aching ulcer...
Comestibles become my sweetest agony
Breaking me and my dignity so gently
Obesity then my heavy tumbling story...
__________________________________________________
Food Can't Live with it can't live without it - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Debbie Guzzi
~~~1st Place~~~
©Olive Eloisa Guillermo
10:51pm, Oct. 17, 2014
He chases her around the garden
Arms are whirling.
They say he has a metal plate in his head
that's why his hand flops.
He tickles her to the red earth
both laughing toward the sun
a generational quilt of love.
They say he raided a pillbox
on some burning island
a million smiles ago
that's why the eye droops
the Marine Corps leg is heavily braced.
They're sitting off to the side
sharing a soft silence
between spoonfuls of ice cream.
They found him a week later
the only sacrificial lamb left alive
no more than eighty pounds
before falling, he took out a half dozen dead enders.
She notices neither the gimp nor flop
only the bronze star eyes and
purple heart that gift her unsoiled attention.
I never used to drink sweet tea,
and neither did I drink coffee.
The one drink that my mother made
was the 60’s stand-by, sugar water called Kool-aid.
I never liked it much; I wanted pop instead.
“Pop I will not buy you,” my mother always said.
So pop became for me a kind of treat-
something other than kool-aid for a beverage sweet.
As an adult in my later years because
I wanted to be healthier, I found tea was
the best alternative for me.
I still hate the taste of coffee.
One year I went crazy and I bought
chamomile, dandelion, peppermint, licorice, green, and quite a lot
of other types of very tasty brands.
How nice it feels to have a cup of warm tea between one’s hands.
Sometimes I use stevia as a sweetener for tea.
That’s because stevia is the best one calorie-free.
However, nothing beats the taste
of tea that is with honey laced!
Boiled water with tea and honey
I sometimes put inside (does this sound funny?)
a tall container like a plastic bottle I carry.
It’s good for any drink, whether juice or dairy.
Once tea has cooled down,
it’s so convenient to carry it around.
I drink it at the place where I teach.
So nice it is to have it within reach.
So pleasant is tea’s flavor. I ought to drink it more.
But when I’m late for work, I have to leave the door
with bottled water or a second drink I like called Bai.
Tea, however, is the very best. Here’s why.
Antioxidants are what a good tea contains.
Good blood pressure and cholesterol also it maintains.
Best of all, I drink it before I go to sleep.
Two bags of tea together in the boiled water I seep.
For vitamin C, some spoonfuls of lemon I throw in.
Drinking Cokes instead of tea ought to be a sin!
Let me tell you a story
Many years ago I bought a puppy
Displayed at the street corner for sale
Caged alone under the sun, hungry and frail.
When the street vendor handed him to me
He licked my hands, wagged his tail happily
He ate three bananas in my basket
Poor pup unfed for long hours, I bet.
I brought him to my boarding house to stay
But my landlady didn’t like dogs- to my dismay
She asked me to keep him outside
But kids stoned him for fun, he didn’t hide.
I attended his head’s bleeding wounds
While cringing in pain with whining sounds
I put bandages then named him Saver
To be my hero at times of danger.
Saver grew up brave and smart on my lap
He knew who’d hurt him when he was a pup
He’d loved and enjoyed his weekend-bath
Tooth brush, fur-paws scrub with nails' cut.
But he was food poisoned at playground twice
He came home dying, I was vet in disguise
Giving him three spoonfuls of sugar
I'd revived him with my loving power.
He was my faithful body guard at night
He accompanied me without fright
At stores and pay-phone calls outside
He never left me…always at my side.
One day, I came home from work
And propelled to a barbeque stand at the park
I felt someone holding my shoulder from the back
Oh my! It was him standing! He rocked.
Then, time came to leave my country
I couldn’t take him, I was so sorry
I entrusted him to my friend and her family
But he died after a year waiting for me.
April 21,2022 10.10pm
Theme: pets
The true story of my dog when I worked at the city. Saver died 2008. I requested somebody to make a figurine that exactly looks like him. It’s now displayed at our living room in my birth place.
This is my 2nd poem tribute for Saver.
Form N - Narrative - New Poems
Contest Judged: 4/27/2022 1:42:00 PM
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Place: 1
I was born underwater with lungs oversized,
With gills immature in a world full of smog,
I'm filling petition to be cauterized,
And end other chapter in life’s fragile log.
I was born black and white with extremities gray,
The plaintiff accuses what I might hide,
It's nothing but SOUL constantly at play,
With spoonfuls of turquoise rolling down off life's slide...
Implosion of rainbows will probably be
The cause of my passing unknown and alone.
When thrown overboard and deep into sea
I'll finally return to my home long time gone...
I've moved in a place with no windowless chamber,
Where time has no meaning and waiting is painless,
If I had any hopes, I swear - don't remember...
And don't recognize him, his sorrow is senseless.
I have died underwater, reborn in blue nights,
Don't need oxygen to play with the whales.
Remember when watching those great Northern Lights
That Mother is smiling behind Nature’s veils.
for Constances contest "Mother"
I'd want to grow old with you
Watch you have grey hair day by day
See you forget to put your make up on
Cause you fine with how you aging
I'd want to see you fall asleep
As we watch our favourite shows
To hear you snore cause you don't need to be perfect
I'll have grown to every bit of you and what you bring
I'd want to feel your palms on mine
To see how the folds on your hands sag
And instead of hiding you just fine with it
Cause you like how you aging
I'd want to see you glow from every bite
As we go out just me and you
Have other dates under the skies
When it's just me and you and the stars
I'd want to see you all grumpy
When the kids making all sorts of noise
Cause all you'll crave is silence
And maybe at times you'd wish that there were no kids
I'd want to taste the food you cook for us
Cause I know it would be spoonfuls of love
So that by the time we in our sixties
I'm so deep in your love
I'd want to introduce you every where I go
So that they know I have someone as great as you
That wherever you are I'm there
Cause you'll compliment as me there
I want to show you off to the world
That from all men you saw
You just had eyes for me
And that you okay with spending eternity with me
I'd want that as I die I'm assured that,
you not lonely or all alone
So I'd leave you a pet
So that it comforts you when I'm gone
The PO£T
Humphrey Haj
Quietly waiting
at the table
legs swinging…
Then, Aunty Jean
brings in
green soup.
Mother-glares at me,
sister-stares with me
at the cold green soup.
Is it medicine,
pond slime,
mushed frogs?
...at least twenty
spoonfuls long.
Silently I say, “Ugh!”
Quietly waiting
at the table…
Aunty Jean brings in
passionfruit cheese-cake,
cream dessert.
Is it more slime,
frog spawn,
tadpole eyes...?
Oh no, it’s a giant slice.
I take one bite…
“Oh,” says Uncle Ron,
“Don’t you like it?”
“Not really,” I murmur.
“All the more for me,”
He smiles,
turns goggle-eyes,
leans across,
adds my slice to his.
Cauldron bubbling,
mixture squelching
sauces oozing
gases belching…
“A glass of milk?”
“Yes please, I’d like
a glass of milk.”
“...and a chocolate frog?”
“No,
No thank-you,
Aunty Green.”
how do you do it?
bring out the inner child
of mine, that is.
could it be the tapestry
of divine magic you weave
to keep him forever young?
you tickle the ribs
of my inner child
when sad and blue
to make him laugh.
he jumps and pirouettes
on the moon;
he knows no greater joy
because of your loving ways;
ever so blissful
in the fulcrum of your arms
you nurture the child
within me
and feed him
spoonfuls
of tenderness
you turn this inner child
of mine loose
to run wild.
Submitted for...
Your Inner Child Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
Date written: 09/09/2021
Big things in small packages, so goes the phrase
And astounding, a spoonful of snow, in such ways
A thousand frost miracles, and identical, none
Innumerable prisms making rainbows from sun
Each with its detail of wonders, unique
Chilled to perfection to tickle your cheek ...
Spoonfuls, that if balled, are fun to be flung
Pleasurably melted when placed on your tongue
Just enough snow for a friend, I would think
To get their attention, or cool down a drink
Limpid complexities with formations, fine
Chiseled by a physical process, divine ...
Jewels from the heavens as winter clouds weep
The crystalline tears of a season's cold creep
Transparent and clear, and cleaving the light
Yet bundled together, the whitest of white
Like so much we see, they're plain at-a-glance
Yet examined up-close, are sure to entrance
So ...
Maybe there's a lesson that we can thus learn
To look at each OTHER more closely, in turn
For the inestimable qualities surfaces hide
And the precious complexion of what is INSIDE
By remembering always, wherever we go
The amazement and magic in a spoonful ...
Of snow.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Christmas Rhymes" Poetry Contest, Kim Rodrigues, Judge & Sponsor.