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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write. Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground. Kiya's gift. I love it!
Green Peas at Stake
#580924 added April 22, 2008 at 11:37pm
Restrictions: None
In the Kitchen (Dew Drop 22)
In the Kitchen

In the kitchen, Mira
--my friend from India--
soaks tamarind,
balancing homesickness
with cooking and poetry.
Hard working, efficient,
she rises and falls again
like the dough or the pain
of searching for the best
paprika in the market, beating
the eggs and simmering her opinions.
Her cravings widen the dance
of my thoughts and send them
spiraling to other people like
my grandmother, aunts, women
from all over the globe
who
distill memories in
cups, spoons, torte pans, gadgets,
Pyrex pans, non-stick roasters
that stick to recall as they
are towed to the island
in the middle of the kitchen.
They interpret recipes and
trying moments
they've allowed to marinate,
and I fluff up to take in
all their aches and memories,
tasting, trusting
the soft, wise voices
gifted with metaphor.


© Copyright 2008 Joy (UN: joycag at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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