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On The Menu Today: Lunch Time Special

June 17, 2015

Sean Michael, 2014

A man’s soul is stewed in the pot of life’s miseries
Chunks of loneliness and loss
Anger and pain, carefully diced
Regret and sorrow added slowly
Stirred and mixed and brought to a simmer
Served piping hot for a good burn
in your throat, chest and gut.
Feel the fire as it spreads through
your body and enjoy.
(Your Mama ain’t never cooked up
nothing like this!)


Posted for  dVerse Poets, Poetics, June 17, 2015


From → BLOG, Poetry

  1. yep – it can seem like that, especially when we eat crow !


  2. Some food are prepared to hurt.. nothing like mama’s cooking.


  3. Until the soul is set free,
    (regardless the body) yes,
    yes, it is.


  4. Indeed…until the soul is set free and the sorrow, regret, all the negatives burned away.


  5. Funny – my poem ends with exactly the opposite view point on mother’s cooking 🙂
    That’s the great thing about poetry prompts I always find – every aspect thoroughly explored.
    Although maybe we are saying the same thing in the end – mothers try not to dish up regret and sorrow, at least not consciously…


    • That is the great thing about poetry. It’s free expression and there are different views and perspectives. I notice sometimes people perceive a line or a complete poem different then I did when I wrote it. I love it.


  6. And so it is, sometimes we need go through life miseries to appreciate good stuff that our mothers would make, smiles ~


  7. Our souls are subject to such pain and misery in this world which we live in.. hopefully peace shall be granted in the afterlife.. an excellent write 🙂


  8. I was once this stew, but then found that if you mix in a little forgiveness, love, and grace, it can make the dreariest stew taste delicious. Peace, Linda


  9. Oh this is masterful–well done!!


  10. So true the pot luck of mama can be so sweet..
    but the luck of pot holes in roads so
    dark.. can stumble the strongest
    of feet.. Oh.. to carry on..
    in dust or not..
    to pain away..
    ’till the sweet
    pot luck of


  11. Using poetry to comment on another’s poetry — wonderful!


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