Showing posts with label noodle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label noodle. Show all posts

Monday, December 24, 2012

Re~noodling "Isaac's Flight" ( on a suggestion from Janice Sandeen )

Isaac's Flight

Our lullaby verses for the year
Her words were our shared comfort
The tender new buds of recognition
The stubborn old rifts between us 
 “He was peaceful
They were slow, full belly breaths ” 
Before the morning of his flight
Heavy eyes had watched him all night
In his final bedchamber
That sterile nook that was
Curtained off privacy
While we stood bewildered 
His spirit hovering above us
Like an old Eagle at rest
A strong Semitic nose
The beautiful curve
More pronounced than ever as he lay there
The mouth hanging open and dark
His forehead warm and moist when I kissed it
In the hour after he died
Sweet relief was all around him
Then gone
Slipped out through an opening
No one was watching
The secluded moment
True to form
In the harbour of his sleep
In his mother tongue
He was saying goodbye 
Leaving his hard earned English language behind
Defying all impaired reasoning
Shining through the fog of his Dementia
The anchor of his sweet calm
A near extinct Moroccan Spanish
Picking up speed and entangled memories
With time spent spinning in circles
In that hospital room corner
Papa was splayed out in all directions




Friday, December 21, 2012

it's hard to have good posture when the heat's out




it's hard to have good posture when the heat's out
huddled by the space heater, a crisp breath billows
more quiet than a shout, like an apple well stored


anticipate benevolence in velvet depth as night turns
learn to breathe in breathe out, feel the fronds
of guanyin's willow supple and stout


what was once travail turns _______* at the core


[*Note: each time read, place a different adjective in the blank, from this list
or your imagination: 

hopeful, growthful, trilling... ]

[or what about removing "at the core" - although I like the resonance with apple in stanza 1]

so
what was one travail turns to ease

[is this an artifact of feeling cold, the incapability of completing a thought/poem?]

[other ideas on how this poem could end?]

Thursday, December 20, 2012

ThisTHREAD

weavesINandOUTofEVERYTHINGthatITtouchesANDisEVERYTHINGthatITtouches.THISisWHATourCONSCIOUSNESSis.EMANATIONexquisiteEXPLICITsometimesTHINGSthatAREexplicitAPPEARotherwiseANDitISourTOOLSofCOMMUNICATIONthatLIMITthingsTOanotherEXISTENCE,apparentlyONLY.existenceWHATisEXISTENCEbutApointingTOsomethingWHICHhasAsubtleREALITYthanFROMourUSUALwayOFdescribingIDENTIFYINGsomeTHING.thingsAREmarkersEITHERimplicitORexplicitOForFORsomethingELSE.andWEareTHEdanceTHATensuesONthisPLATEinTHISdiet,THISwayOFlife.IT'sCOOKEDupHEREforWHATEVERappetiteITfits.BONappetit.PLEASEcontinueTHREADafterDIGESTINGsome(ORnot).TOOmanyCOOKScooksMANYpots.WHENisTOOmanyTOOmuchORnotENOUGH?

Monday, December 17, 2012

Stuck noodle - ribbon of time

Stuck noodle - ribbon of time

scent of the music
wafts through the kitchen,
room we all gather in,
“Hey, is that spaghetti up there behind the Wedgewood?.”
“Yeah, it stuck.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I used to like to make big red wine infused spaghetti sauce
& serve it to lots of people,

U  
N    
 T
  I                       
   L                       

THAT night I had invited 8 guests to dinner & had the spaghetti cooking
in a Big pot on my rented stove & it was ready to drain; the salad, the big red wine infused
spaghetti sauce served ready to spoon in front of 8 guests in 8 mismatched chairs
out on my little enclosed patio when this one guest -
a taller than me slender woman ( my highschool sweetheart) with long blond hair
came into the kitchen next to me and quietly said
“I need to tell you something. I got v.d. from BJ (another guest) & may have
passed it on to you.”
I saw RED & had to go outside for air.
There sat  BJ laughing
& just that fast
I overturned the table,spaghetti sauce, salad & all onto my used to be friend.
END of pasta party. End of highschool sweetheart.End of my making infused spaghetti sauce.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
& still that noodle hung on the kitchen wall behind the stove
guarding the secrets unsaid, dares not slide to the floor
as the landing would crash too hard & too loud,
until the day of the remodel got too close.
& that noodle began to vibrate & shake & threaten to go airborne.
Soon it would be time for twice cooked pasta.
MINE!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
go noodle ya all

p-sketti writher


Monday, December 10, 2012

A ribbon of time - noodle script

Do something with a noodle:
Rainbow Pasta

Slurp it, see how rapidly you can hoover one up, what shapes does it make rattle-slapping your chin

Write about the splotches of sauce on the table cloth from this maneuver

Throw one on a wall, does it stick? 

Eat a noodle off the wall you've thrown at it, as if you were in a movie where gravity changed 90 degrees. 

Dance like a noodle. Is there a different move for linguini flop? Does angel hair float? 

How do you write a noodle poem? Is it thoughtful, or spunky? Experience a noodle. Write a poem. Stay flexible to the possibilities. Share the results of your noodlexperiments...

Tags: noodle, poem, [poet's moniker]

Image source: Wonder How To ("How to Make Your Own Super Cheap and Simple Rainbow Colored Pasta")