Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
The ladle and the knife We were utensils sitting in the old cook's drawer. Each with a measure and a meaning. What was ours? I was the ladle lapping at the shores of survivors bobbing in the broth before they were boiled. You were the knife whose blade tore off the head from the root, the righteous from the right. What was left became fresh trash. In a flash, you could scrape carrots, parsnips, whack the chicken neck in two if the peeler was missing and the cleaver missing with it too. And I could be a paddle on a child's butt, smack the old man's fingers reaching for a nut. We each had duties and seldom touched. In the drawers I was long and lanky wood; you were slender with a sharpened bite. My wooden head, your shank of steel, thrown together for the night. © 2009 Kåre Enga [165.412] 2009-01-17 I thought of what and how we touch. I don't always use the tactile senses, never nearly enough. Probably inspired by Hawksley's Isadora poems. BLAH BLAH BLAH: Not a productive morning ... nope. The day never woke up and neither did I. But, I had pork to fry and underwear to boil. Ate some of the pork and will chop up the rest with my trusty knife and put it in baggies to add as flavoring, Chinese style. And the underwear is cooling slowly in a big pot I use; I stir them with a wooden ladle. See "Soup de jour" for details. Spoke to Lavinia. She likes the centuries old Scottish tune "Barbara Allen" for "Song of Lavinia" and now the lyrics will need to be tweaked. I have somehow inspired her to do some singing and recording. Last night, I was invited to go to Perkins again with Myrt and Dalton. I ordered pot roast this time. I definitely have eaten enough meat this last week to last me a month. I thought of writing projects for February and March. I'm behind in my poetic sketches, but should make 500 by March 20th, if not the goal of 540. I went to Bernice's for a coffee, called my aunt, now I'm back. It truly has been a blah blah day. Montana: a blah blah 25º at 17:00 10,843 |