I really like this one. When a relationship ends it does leave shadows/remnants behind that cannot be so easily erased. You've captured that sentiment beautifully.
From a poet such as yourself, who is so adept at spinning legends and painting surreal scenes, this is a stark piece of pure emotion...I'm sure you've been told this by at least a few people, but I've had far too many of these nights...mind you, when I write about them, they tend to come out a bit more agitated and not with the subtlety you've presented here, which only serves to emphasize the loneliness that much more...there is something about the simple act of cooking, it is a playful activity between partners, or a byproduct of solitude that must be done, even if the solitary character is too depressed to have an appetite....I guess it goes without saying that this one spoke to me...wonderful work my friend.
Posted 11 Years Ago
11 Years Ago
Thank you so much. I totally agree...the act of cooking and eating is something that is completely .. read moreThank you so much. I totally agree...the act of cooking and eating is something that is completely different when you are with a partner and without; it can go from happy to lonely in seconds!
I sense the loneliness in this poem, reminders even in the grain of the very table of romantic meals once enjoyed between two people in love, though now only one half remains of this idyllic duo waiting as the pasta simmers, waiting, waiting and waiting......
I really enjoyed the atmosphere you created in this poem Girl Friday, a very strong emotional piece indeed!
Posted 11 Years Ago
11 Years Ago
Thank you so much, Tom...you definitely "got" this one :)
You hit all the senses as you pull at the heart in this piece, Sarah. Memories are so intertwined with scents and textures, and we torture ourselves by calling them. This can be read as a scorned lover, or as a widowed soul (reminds me of my mother, who cooks only for herself now...) A tangible poem Sarah, wonderfully written.
"She's mad but she's magic. There's no lie in her fire." - Charles Bukowski
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