I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

29 November 2016

Why I Can't Write About Cooking

Well you see, 
I’m not much of a cook.
I have little patience:
can't do games of chess or recipes.

I’m not much of a cook
except when it comes to the simple –
omelettes, fried mushrooms, grilled fish….

I have little patience
for weighing and mixing and waiting
for the oven to work its measured magic.

Can't do games of chess, or recipes.
The ingredients – rare spices, self-control –
are far too exotic for me; I don’t stock them.

The current Mini-Challenge at 'imaginary garden with real toads' is Cooking Up a Storm. This is not the luscious, foody poem requested! I call myself a 'non-cook'. But it was another opportunity to practise the trimeric, as I am doing this month. (I am breaking rules all over the place. We were asked to write a poem of four tercets, and in a trimeric the first verse has one line more – but it comes very close, so I hope I can get away with it.) PS I know how to play chess, but I always want to play it like Chinese Checkers.


  1. I am not much of a cook. My daughters love it and are really talented. The apple bounced away from the tree with them. :)

  2. I'm with you, simple is best.


  3. You might not be much of a cook, but your poetry is delicious. I love it when a poem full of truth makes me smile.

    1. P.S. I can't stand measuring things. I'm an eye-baller when it comes to cooking. Hence I always have so much trouble sharing my recipes... I don't really have any.

    2. My Aunty Ev was a good cook. She never measured, just guessed – she thought that was a sign you had really learned how to cook!

  4. I can't cook with recipes... but I can cook with pationece and experiment... taste and improve

  5. You (or your poet) cooks better than I do. My art talent reaches only to the Stickman stage, my cooking to the hot dog, egg dishes, or soup. But I once failed a college Minerology course because of chess. He said he would have passed me if I had better lab attendance. Instead I would be across the street during his afternoon classes at the drug store fountain area playing chess. I was good, I often won matches with the Lincoln, Nebraska, city chess champion.

    1. I have the greatest admiration for the superior brains of people who can play chess well!

  6. p.s. I really enjoyed this poem, regardless of form problems. I'd rate it "Mission Accomplished."
    BTW my country school learned writing speech vocabulary is also limited to four and five letter words. I do know way bigger words but most aren't on my tongue tip.

  7. Ha, I love this response to the prompt. Wish I had thought of it, as had no inspiration in that direction.

  8. This took me back to the kitchen with my daughter.
    She's a chef now