This prompt courtesy JeanMarie Olivieri.
Happy almost Thanksgiving to poets in the States. This week let’s write a poem about family favorite meals. They could be holiday meals or anytime meals. The holiday season of eating starts now. If you can’t be with your loved ones, maybe you can cook up an old family recipe and post the yummies in the comments below.
About Bartholomew Barker
Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he lives and writes poetry.
Hi here’s mine~: https://eastelmhurstagogo.wordpress.com/2020/11/23/the-fourth-of-july-in-hilldale/
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Posted by larry trasciatti | November 23, 2020, 3:30 PMThere is a lot packed into this poem and the last line is golden!
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | November 23, 2020, 4:13 PMThanks
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Posted by larry trasciatti | November 23, 2020, 4:50 PMA pleasant reminiscence. Thanks for sharing!
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | November 23, 2020, 5:10 PMAn old family
recipe for having meals
for festive events
Bring the potatoes
but don’t forget the yeast rolls
that was my duty
Suspicious I was
that my food to bring was bread
but if you saw us
Well, you would know why
none of use are shy to eat
don’t even talk of skimping
But yeast rolls were prized
mine were of whole wheat
made from scratch and kneaded
by hands and buttered just right
don’t skimp on the honey, honey
they were the delight
nowadays, it’s basics
traditional foods
truth is
this bunch is happy with less
but oh I love to spoil them more
there are just three of us
but we still have a spread
and the bakery makes the bread
because
I don’t knead no more
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | November 23, 2020, 4:19 PMSuper! love the knead no more!
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Posted by purplestoneblog | November 23, 2020, 4:25 PMThank you
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | November 23, 2020, 6:32 PMMakes me want to bake some bread again. Nothing quite like fresh from the oven.
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | November 23, 2020, 5:12 PMIt’s crossed my mind…used to make yeast breads often. Always had honey waiting for that hot loaf.
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | November 23, 2020, 6:33 PMI would mix honey into my pumpernickel.
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | November 23, 2020, 7:30 PMI have not tried making pumpernickel but I do like it. Makes me want to buy a loaf.
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | November 24, 2020, 7:48 AMI agree, “knead no more” great line. Great poem.
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Posted by JeanMarie | November 24, 2020, 3:13 AMThank you!
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | November 24, 2020, 7:47 AMSunday Breakfast
Pancakes & Sundays go together
like corned beef & cabbage
like a pot of tea & scones
like peanut butter & jelly
a ritual not allowed
any other day of the week
Mom retrieved the cast iron griddle
hanging on a hook in the cellarway
gas flame at just the right height
to preheat griddle
wax-paper-Crisco-it lightly
not too much or too little
a water-sprinkle-sizzle-it perfect
the sizzle alerts me, it’s coming
my mouth waters my imagination
I wait
I squirm
fork in hand
first two pancakes tossed aside
always
why? I ask
tradition
it’s what I was taught
next two sandwich-plate-sized-pancakes
round, light, fluffy, golden tan
absorb a chunk of butter
like an ice cube on hot tar
dripped with Log Cabin maple syrup
ice cold milk in accompany
Sunday mornings began a day differently.
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Posted by purplestoneblog | November 23, 2020, 4:35 PMLove the ” water-sprinkle-sizzle-it ” Great work!
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | November 23, 2020, 5:13 PMThanks. Good memories from a life time of foods.
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Posted by purplestoneblog | November 23, 2020, 5:27 PMYummm Love the imagery.
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | November 23, 2020, 6:35 PMGreat memory. Love the descriptions. mmmm!
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Posted by JeanMarie | November 24, 2020, 3:11 AMSuper memories from a tradition with deep meaning. Enjoyed it.
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Posted by purplestoneblog | November 23, 2020, 5:31 PMJust posted to my blog: https://bartbarkerpoet.com/2020/11/23/last-meal/
It’s called “Last Meal” and starts:
From death row
I want my last meal
to be Thanksgiving
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | November 23, 2020, 7:43 PMHere’s mine:
https://jeanmarieolivieri.wordpress.com/2020/11/24/family-meals/
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Posted by JeanMarie | November 24, 2020, 3:38 AMThere’s something to be said for small gatherings and quiche. Nicely done.
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | November 24, 2020, 10:50 AMThanks for writing to your own prompt! 😉
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | November 24, 2020, 4:53 PMMy fiancé has a saying. It always taste good as long as he does not have to cook it. Also, he loves quiche. Great poem.
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Posted by Geri Lawhon | November 27, 2020, 1:22 PMI’ll definitely visit this blog again, thank you 🙂
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Posted by Colorful Sisters | November 30, 2020, 1:49 AMHope to read some of your poetry written to these prompts too.
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | November 30, 2020, 4:41 PM