Short Sourdough Poems

bread
edible, necessary
nurturing, sustaining, supporting
sourdough, wheat; big top, entertainment
laughing, clowning, applauding
nomadic, enjoyable
circuses

written January 14, 2022...

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A slow cooked roast with baked potato
Soft spread butter and sliced sourdough
Steamed baby carrots with peas
A-1 Steak Sauce and jellies
Apple pie, cooling by the window

Her way of letting me know, there was a sale at Macy's.
It always worked!...

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This old farmhouse kitchen
could tell its thrifty tales
of hard times, making do,
making bread from nothing –

snatching life out of air…
Snatching life out of air,

she turns wheat and water
to ferment by the stove,
and molds it with her hands
into tart, golden loaves....

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pizza
                                                     doughy mixture
                                             cheesy gooey stretching
                                         bakers oven homestyle freshly
                                                        sourdough...

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beats submissive heart
seldom ever stops beating
for if it does death

for the kiss of life
seldom ever stops beating
love is eternal

hearts as fire burns
churns as butter sourdough
for if it does death

4/10/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022...

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Crackpot Dream

Instead of a Blessing,
I'd Like to Propose A Toast!

SOURDOUGH!

Wahoo!

I Love Sourdough
An Underestimated
---TANG!---

Better Than No
Irritation.

No Really...
Stop Making That Face...

---crunch---

It 
Had a Mother,
YOU KNOW.

-Gray Squirrel

11-09-2024...

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~     Nana's sourdough, warm -


     Heaven's hearth ...


                         the yeast ... of Eden     ~





Written on October 11, 2018

* The "LUNE", (a Haiku-like poetic form consisting of a three-line, 5-3-5 syllable count), is also known as "American Haiku" ... it was first created by the poet Robert Kelly, and was a result of Kelly’s frustration with English haiku. *...

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Oh my pretty Tsuki
Tsuki-tsuki-tsoo
Aren't you a beautiful doggy?
You'd make a lovely sandwich!
Eat you on a toasted sourdough bun,
Yes I will. Yes I will.
I love you so much, kissy kissy,
Snuggle snuggle
Wouldn't you like me to
Roast you on a spit?
Bite a hole in your belly and
Suck your insides out!
Moose fart! PLPLPLPL!!
Such a lovely, lovely girl
You'd make the perfect pot roast
Or a mince pie, you're such a sweety,
Eat you, eat you up, nom nom nom....

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Sourdough crumbles under my hands, 
flour thick on the counter, white haze 
same as my father used to breathe in. 

The skin splits where I score it, steam 
unfurling from the center like something 
trying to leave. 

I eat the heel first, next its soft middle, 
then the quiet between bites, imagining 
what’s left of his lungs. He was convinced
his anger would bully up, save him. 

He hated me, and now it’s just me 
communing with wild yeast. 

Hallelujah. 
...

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A colleague once gave me, on paper,
A recipe written by hand
For Passover rolls
And one of her goals
Was for choices I’d make to expand.

Though they can’t substitute for a bagel
Or some sourdough or seeded rye,
For the holiday week
When some bread I might seek,
They’re a stand-in on which I rely.

When I make them, I’m thinking of Mildred,
Though I’m certain that she is long gone,
But when I form the dough
Into roll shapes, I know
That her spirit I’m carrying on....

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