Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Eggplant, Pepper, and Onion (Poem)

Eggplant, Pepper, and Onion

     after L.L. Barkat's 'Touch Stuff, Get Happy'

Apply heat,
and aubergine ripens

to the color of nightshade,
the India ink of eyes

spying large and watchful.
Split pepper,

and feel its sting
rise like desire unrelieved.

Peel a layer
from its heart, and red onion

makes a bowl
of tears the shape of spheres

we navigate,
concentric rings of life eternal,

earth-given form
we know to name and touch.

© 2012 Maureen E. Doallas

10 comments:

Kathleen said...

I particularly love the splitting and peeling in the center of this!

Peggy Rosenthal said...

Love the sensuousness of this, Maureen. I've been cooking a lot of eggplant & peppers lately (they're in season, and in abundance, for my local farmers); next time I cook them, I'll know how "to name and touch."

(PS--It has taken me 5 times to get blurry numbers/letters correct that your blog-host requires; I wish they could make this safety-step less of a chore.)

Maureen said...

Peggy, I'm sorry about the anti-spammer tool that Blogger offers. I have the same trouble when leaving messages elsewhere; I just keep hitting that little symbol until I get it right. Not using it brings in too much spam.)

Britton Minor said...

"we navigate,
concentric rings of life eternal,

earth-given form
we know to name and touch."

These last lines speak to me this morning, and I can smell the freshness of my own "splitting and peeling."

Thank you for sharing your beautiful gifts of seeing and expressing...of awaking thoughts and emotions so vibrantly.

Brian Miller said...

love that peeling of the onion and traveling the concentric rings of life....that is where you really hooked me in this...very col maureen...

S. Etole said...

Wonderful images this creates.

humbird said...

Thanks Maureen for sharing your sense of life "feel its sting rise like desire unrelieved"...
It is such blessing to be able to express yourself as you do it...

Beachanny said...

Every image here a metaphor and to name and touch is to own, to be, to understand. Deft, subtle, and deep.

Serena said...

I love when a poem has this soul... in yours it's ... "rise like desire unrelieved" right there in the middle like this beautiful tickle of a surprise... it takes the breath away, it makes one stop and go whoa... This was really cool... I love when that happens.

Dick Jones said...

A fine example of menu-as-existential-metaphor! It's an oft-attempted exercise, but this works so well.