HAIKU DIALOGUE – The Haiku Mind – Favorite Meal
The Haiku Mind
Recently, my five-year-old daughter was comforting her younger sister when she spontaneously composed this haiku as a source of solace:
leaving
all that’s left
the fog
I was shocked! I haven’t shared much haiku with her yet thinking it was a bit beyond her ability to comprehend. Well, she showed me! This beautiful haiku came from a heart that knows no poetic rules nor has had any training. It flowed out of a haiku mindset that I believe is inborn in all of us.
Unlike adults, young children do not carry around the concerns and worries of the world. They have yet to have years of self-consciousness weigh down their creative efforts. Their first impulse is followed without wondering whether it will be “good enough”. They simply create. It is a freedom many of us long for in our own writing. So, let’s regain some of that innocence. Let’s write from that first spark that alights within us. Let’s throw off what we believe what a haiku “is” or “isn’t”. Let’s let go of trying to “follow the rules” and allow ourselves the satisfying joy of creation.
Each week I will provide a simple prompt for your imagination and memories to springboard off of. I’d like for you to try to clear your mind, breathe deeply, and follow the first image or feeling that comes to mind. Take a minute to jot down your impressions and see where it goes. Try not to take too long or spend too much time on revision. Allow yourself to trust your own inborn haiku mind.
noticing
the sunset first
her innocence
Please send one to two unpublished and freshly created haiku by clicking here: Contact Form, and put Haiku Dialogue in the Subject box.
I will select from the entries, providing commentary for a few each week, with the rest being listed in the order they are received.
next week’s theme: Travel
Think back on the places you have visited. Where are you? What do you see? Who are you with? How old are you? What time of year is it? Are you participating in a special event? Is this a place you come to often? Has something intriguing happened? Are there any specific scents or sounds associated with this place?
Let yourself follow the first thought that comes to mind and engage that idea with all of your senses. Allow yourself to create and throw off what you think “should” or “should not be” in regards to your haiku. There is no right or wrong here. Bring yourself into the moment and stay there awhile. Let it linger.
The deadline is midnight Eastern Standard Time, Saturday March 7, 2020.
Below is my commentary for Favorite Meal:
This has been a truly beautiful and exciting week of haiku. Thank you all for trusting me with your haiku moments. It is an immense joy to read each and every one of them. And with all this talk of food you’ve had me hungering for things I had yet to hear of! I particularly enjoyed the notes that some of you sent along explaining the dishes referenced. As with each week, I would love to hear the stories behind your haiku and what your writing process was like. Is it getting any easier to trust your creative instincts? Drop by the comments and share your thoughts, let other poets know you enjoyed their work, and possibly even join in a discussion!
Sharing a meal seems to be at the heart of many of our food-related memories. And for many this week their haiku/senryu centered on familial experiences. From extended family…
family feast
twirling pasta the same way
as my unclesMarisa Fazio
As I am writing this week I am out of town, and as it so happens, visiting family. Last night looking through some old photo albums I saw for the first time how similar my own daughters are to my sister and I. We share the same mannerisms, same facial expressions, and even the same ways of playing. It was quite amazing. I imagine Marisa having a similar “aha” moment. I wonder how old Marisa was when this moment occurred. Was she a little girl looking over at the adult table? Or is she grown-up, now at the adult table, and noticing this for the first time?
to mothers…
third try
my lasagna passes
the mama testPat Davis, NH
Where I am reminded of my own failed attempts at recreating my grandmother-in-law’s infamous banana bread. The elusiveness of it still has me trying! Here with Pat’s “third attempt” I gather a sense of triumph (and possibly exasperation) at finally receiving that stamp of approval. I wonder what else Pat is hoping will pass the “mama test”…
and beloved grandparents…
apple pie…
grandma’s
memoryRosa Maria Di Salvatore
A simple haiku yet it draws on every sense (as I imagine it): the smell, taste and sight of pie, the feel of a fork, and the sound of it crunching into the crust. With the sparsity of the wording we are left with lots of space to imagine the scene. One interpretation could be that her grandma’s memory is faltering but the one thing she can remember is how to make her apple pie. Another could be that Rosa is sharing a slice of apple pie that transports her back to the taste of her grandma’s. What do you see?
Here are the rest of this week’s selections. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did. Happy reading and I look forward to hearing from you in the comments section below!
homemade pasta-
that ancient flavor
of nostalgiaAngela Giordano – Italy
dinner alone
where to start
with the memoriesStephen A. Peters
my sugary hands
the prize at the bottom
of the cereal boxSari Grandstaff, Saugerties, NY
dementia
her first pizza
without herselfAljoša Vuković, Šibenik, Croatia
merciless
salmon and its eggs
at the sushi barTeiichi Suzuki. Japan
the pleasures and barbs
of childhood…wafting back
blackberry jamWanda Amos
Valentine’s Night
grated over squid ink pasta
umami starsHelen Buckingham
melancholia
antidepressants
and mashed potatoesRehn Kovacic
memories of grandma
salt cod alla messinese-
the recipe written in dialectvincenzo adamo
the chink of feet
on the Paris pavement
moules marinièreAndy McLellan
like clock work
the early bird special
with happy hourMichael Henry Lee
waiting in shade
the allure of
curry riceNeelam Dadhwal, Chandigarh, India
mother’s lentil soup –
the days of our childhood
freshly stirredEva Limbach, Germany
incomplete
without sundown
balcony supperRicha Sharma
After a quarrel
We add less pepper
To our lentil soupAnna Goluba
fresh pie
the warmth of kisses
my mother’sNazarena Rampini, Italia
aloo prantha –
a taste of mother’s love
for breakfast( aloo prantha is a traditional and popular Punjabi Indian breakfast. It consists of unleavened dough stuffed with a mixture of spicy mashed potatoes )
arvinder kaur, Chandigarh, India
grease and salt
on a slice of warm bread –
mother’s smileZdenka Mlinar, Zagreb, CROATIA
dad’s waffles
every little square filled
with loveBryan Rickert
char-grilled
corn silk
– summer nightsRoberta Beach Jacobson
french cheesecake –
all our thoughts
coated in sugarIsabel Caves
*iftar…
mum share of bean cake
also mine* iftar is the evening meal with which Muslims end their daily Ramadan fast at sunset
Jibril Dauda Muhammad
arousal
the way my husband
rolls the gnocchiTerri French
seafood festival—
grandma’s tongs
chasing the crabLori A Minor, Raleigh, NC
the smell of arson . . .
my favorite meal
in my mother-in-law’s wayIvan Gaćina, Croatia
an extra dab of butter
on my mashed potatoes
chickenpoxLouise Hopewell, Australia
last crackling
of embers and ash…
lamb skewersultimo scoppiettio
di braci e cenere…
ArrosticiniDaniela Misso
my night off . . .
his chicken jalfrezi
extra yummyIngrid Baluchi, Macedonia
visits back
still cutting to the core
baked applesLaurie Greer, Washington, DC
breakfast for dinner
as if we could
just start overKristen Lindquist
homemade pasta
the smell of grandma’s
apronPamela A Babusci
weekend fast
enjoying the banquet
in my headCharles Harmon, Los Angeles, California, USA
tagine
the drooling dog
by my chairAdrian Bouter
that day
we had wine and bread by the Seine
time like a riverPeggy Hale Bilbro, Alabama
solar seeds –
the savory dreams
in my risotto alla MilaneseLuisa Santoro
edamame spaghetti
the puzzled silence
before the questionsMadhuri Pillai
wonder diet
a pepperoni pizza
the best lovedMarta Chocilowska
steak smoke
from backyard charcoal
my dad’s voiceAnn K. Schwader, Westminster, CO
ramadan morning…
the aroma of biriyani
lifting the spiritR. Suresh Babu, india
hot tomato soup
my mother swears it cures
everythingFranjo Ordanic
snow tales …
on her fingertips
orange’s smellfiabe di neve … profumano d’arancia / i polpastrelli
Lucia Cardillo
the morning after
or the night before…
breakfastSteve Tabb
Mama’s brownies
missing
her special touchMargaret Walker
Spring sunrise…
our cups of coffee
just before departureElisabetta Castagnoli
fried green tomatoes
the last sizzle
of daddy’s gardenPris Campbell
grandparent’s house
the fragrance of bread
from room to roomEufemia Griffo
morning
finding my Jekyll
with juiceJanice Munro
easy over egg
that elusive one
after all these yearsEdna Beers
refugee camp…
the lingering smell
of desi rotiHifsa Ashraf, Pakistan
romantic picnic
we share our food
with antsRich Schilling, Webster Groves
homesickness…
mom makes me
mac and cheeseNancy Brady, Huron, Ohio
pot luck
after the funeral
the quandary of fresh peach pieGreer Woodward, Waimea, HI
Lori Zajkowski is the Post Manager for Haiku Dialogue. A novice haiku poet, she lives in New York City.
Guest Editor Tia Haynes resides in Lakewood, Ohio, near her beloved Lake Erie. She was featured in New Resonance 11: Emerging Voices in English-Language Haiku and has appeared in journals and anthologies worldwide. Much of her inspiration comes from the landscape and people of the American Midwest as well as life with her two small children. Her chapbook, leftover ribbon, (Velvet Dusk Publishing) is available on Amazon. Follow her on Twitter: @adalia_haiku
Katherine Munro lives in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, and publishes under the name kjmunro. She is Membership Secretary for Haiku Canada, and her debut poetry collection is contractions (Red Moon Press, 2019).
This Post Has 51 Comments
Comments are closed.
Thank you for publishing my poem and your precious work.
A wonderful selection and I have enjoyed reading them all. Congratulations to all the poets.
homemade pasta-
that ancient flavor
of nostalgia
—-Angela Giordano – Italy
*
*
dinner alone
where to start
with the memories
—–Stephen A. Peters
*
*
my sugary hands
the prize at the bottom
of the cereal box
—-Sari Grandstaff, Saugerties, NY
*
*
waiting in shade
the allure of
curry rice
—-Neelam Dadhwal, Chandigarh, India
*
*
grease and salt
on a slice of warm bread –
mother’s smile
–Zdenka Mlinar, Zagreb, CROATIA
*
*
seafood festival—
grandma’s tongs
chasing the crab
—Lori A Minor, Raleigh, NC
*
*
snow tales …
on her fingertips
orange’s smell
fiabe di neve … profumano d’arancia / i polpastrelli
—- Lucia Cardillo
*
*
Mama’s brownies
missing
her special touch
—Margaret Walker
*
*
grandparent’s house
the fragrance of bread
from room to room
—Eufemia Griffo
Elisabetta –
Thank you for mentioning my haiku!
You also listed some others I had missed – so was pleased you brought them to my attention.
Your own “spring sunrise” – there’s nothing quite like the smell of coffee early in the morning.
Thank you Elisabetta for your appreciation of my haiku.
Such wonderful verses and comments! Thank you for sharing everyone.
Many thanks Tia for selecting my poem. I hope everyone enjoyed my ” aloo prantha” . Somehow haiku takes me back again and again to my childhood. The reason behind this could perhaps be the recent loss of my mother,an event,a loss that’s hard to get over. My mother was a great cook and always made pranthas for us so lovingly. Miss those times and those meals.
Enjoyed reading ‘family feast’ and your comments on the same. The image is so vivid and one can identify so clearly. Pat’s poem worked so well too ! Yes,the standards mama set were so high.
‘dementia’ ,by Sibenik,a very poignant poem . My eyes were moist, having seen my mom on the verge of it all. Enjoyed ‘dad’s waffles’ , ‘by Bryan Rickert , grandma’s tongs’by Lori,’ homemade pasta’ by Pamela.
Congratulations to all chosen poets !
I’m sorry for your loss. My own mother passed in 2013. She was a fantastic cook and I have many memories of her dishes and of cooking with her. Reading many of these haiku made me smile with those memories.
Thanks Tia ! love the beauty of our shared experiences !
arvinder – Thanks for mentioning my poem. I can relate to your loss – my husband died in September, and my brother died in February – my heartfelt sympathies to you.
Pat, I’m joining in late this week but am sorry to just hear of your double loss. Debbie
Conngrats poets. Literally I was waiting to read your haikus and know the great haiku minds through your haiku dialogues on the topic of Favorite meal. Thank you Tia Madam for the wonderful selections this week. i enjoyed reading all the haikus. I have tried to interpret few of the haikus and see how well i could connect with them
homemade pasta-
that ancient flavor
of nostalgia
Angela Giordano – Italy
Food has this special ingredient to remind you of your past, and what best can do this than the food cooked by your mom or elders in the family. When you work overseas and reach your home home after a long gap, the first thing you would want is to eat those special delicacies cooked by your mom or elders at home. you wouldn’t have eaten anything better anywhere, and the first bite of it brings wonderful memories of eating it on the table with your family and friends, and they come to your mind. Wonderful Haiku Poet
dementia
her first pizza
without herself
Aljoša Vuković, Šibenik, Croatia
Pathos in this haiku. You have eaten so many pizzas in your life but this one seems your fist one. Imagining it give us shivers. I mean you even lose your memory of your taste. And your expressions are bland though the pizza you hold in your hand is rich in colours and spices. you have eaten it many times, but now you seem to be eating it for the first time without the excitement and nostalgia of the past. Wonderful Haiku Poet
refugee camp…
the lingering smell
of desi roti
Hifsa Ashraf, Pakistan
Brings to your mind of not just eating your meal but sharing it with others. On my long walks in my neighborhood, i see the poor who live in tents and cook their meal in the open and eat it under the sky with their loved ones. And the fragrance of the meal invites you to share their meal. They put their best ingredient in food which is called ‘LOVE’. And they eat it after a day’s hard labour, and they relish every bite of it. Wonderful Haiku Poet
Mama’s brownies
missing
her special touch
Margaret Walker
When people age , and suffer from age related ailments, they are not able to cook as before. And what is more distressing is that they ask you again and again how their food taste, and would love to hear an appreciation or acknowledgement from us. We try to inspire them and motivate them telling this is so good and i haven’t tasted anything before like this. And i have experienced this in my life too. I could connect with this haiku so well. Thank you Madam, Wonderful Haiku
hot tomato soup
my mother swears it cures
everything
Franjo Ordanic
We have a same kind of soup in southern part of India. we call it Rasam and also add garlic and other spices with it. Surprisingly, i have read few messages on Whatsapp that it is a cure for many virus related diseases. Whenever we suffer from cold , the first thing they give us is the hot piping rasam or the soup. I could connect with this haiku so well. Wonderful Haiku Poet.
homemade pasta
the smell of grandma’s
apron
Pamela A Babusci
An apron is a calligraphy of fingerprints and marks of menu. You smell the apron, you know what was cooked and what is cooking. And when you wear this apron, you feel you are a perfect cook and you walk with your head held high into the kitchen and become a kitchen warrior. How nice to smell the homemade pasta on grandma’s apron. Wonderful Haiku Poet
I have enjoyed reading all the haikus. Best wishes Poets.
Thank you for your commentary and for sharing much of yourself with us. I have never heard of Rasam but tomato soup is a favorite of mine. I’ll have to look up a recipe! How interesting that on two different continents tomato soup is a comfort food (and medicinal) for those who are sick!
Dear Tia, many thanks for selecting my poem. I’m so happy to learn new things…. 8-))
Dear R. Suresh Babu,
I’m so glad you like it.
R. Suresh Babu –
Thank you for mentioning my haiku. Interestingly, you also touched on one possible meaning when you commented on “refugee camp”. Love is an important component of many favorite foods – especially those made by people we cherish.
Pris Campbell’s “Fried Green Tomatoes” is another that touches on the “love” of a favorite food from her father’s garden – and for her father. I could taste the fried green tomatoes as I read the haiku!
Another that addresses love of a person(s) and memories is Eufemia Griffo’s “grandparents’ house”. The homes of my grandparents also smelled of freshly baked bread. I could smell it as I read the haiku – and recall the many memories of their love.
It is wonderful that you took the time to comment on so many of the haiku here. You “see” meanings in several of the haiku that I had not yet thought about – and that is a great part of the beauty of haiku!
I so appreciate your taking the time to do this.
Your own haiku –
ramadan morning…
the aroma of biriyani
lifting the spirit
I smiled at a memory this evoked. As the principal of a school where many of the students celebrate Ramadan, I can only imagine how the smell of food throughout the day must make their mouth’s water in anticipation of the evening meal. The aroma of biriyani lifts my spirits at any time – it must surely be something to look forward to after a day of fasting.
Thank you.
Thank you Maam. Thank you so much for your appreciation
Thank you, Tia, for selecting one of my haiku this week! I really enjoy seeing everyone’s offerings at this haiku banquet, especially feeling the family love many poets associate with food.
I especially liked, for its emotional truth and wordplay:
visits back
still cutting to the core
baked apples
Laurie Greer, Washington, DC
and:
seafood festival—
grandma’s tongs
chasing the crab
Lori A Minor, Raleigh, NC
There’s a humor in this one that I love, the image of grandma chasing the crab with tongs like a crab’s claw.
It was quite a banquet this week indeed!
Thank you for your kind words, Kristen; glad this one resonated. Baked apples are forever associated for me with my grandmother and annual visits where the tension was palpable, even to little kids. It’s a very complicated dish for me, and one I’ve never had in any other context.
I loved the haiku about breakfast for dinner. It was a staple in our home growing up. When my younger sister first fixed breakfast food for dinner to her new husband, he freaked. Even now, many years later, he will not eat any foods he associates with breakfast after ten a.m. in the morning. No matter, we still do.
I make breakfast for dinner all the time! It’s so simple to put together and enormously comforting after a trying day (which is many when you have a 3 and 5 year old running around). Also, easy to remember on a meal plan, lol. I often forget to prep food earlier in the day. Which reminds me I need to soak my lentils for tonight!
My Dad, from a large impoverished Scots family between the wars, used to tell us kids of how, if money was tight, they would often sit down to a meal simply of cheap ‘bread and dripping’. This memory came to mind with Zdenka’s poem, although circumstances, hopefully, were not so dire:
…
grease and salt
on a slice of warm bread –
mother’s smile
Zdenka Mlinar, Zagreb, CROATIA
….
The other poem which brought me up short was Adrian Bouter’s :
…
tagine
the drooling dog
by my chair
…
Oh yes! Wherever you may be, probably in an outdoor restaurant, maybe somewhere exotic like Marrakesh or even here in Macedonia where stray dogs abound, that dreadful feeling of…boy, I’m hungry, but I must keep back a token of my meal (surreptitiously wrapped in a paper napkin) for that dog – or cat – under the table, because the night is long and life is tough, even if you and it end up wishing you’d eaten a bit more. Thanks, Adrian.
…
And thank you, Tia, for including one of mine. It’s quite a reveal to dip into other poets’ experiences, often to find we share the same thoughts, values and emotions.
You are most welcome Ingrid 🙂 Thank you for sharing how these haiku struck you. It really is revealing to see how we are more alike than not.
So many great haiku especially about Italian and Indian foods! I loved them all. Thanks for including my haiku about a very special memory. Not Italian, but still special! I’ll comment later on the ones I particularly liked.
Thank you so much for including mine, Tia! Here are a few of my favorites:
Valentine’s Night
grated over squid ink pasta
umami stars
Helen Buckingham
—
arousal
the way my husband
rolls the gnocchi
Terri French
—
breakfast for dinner
as if we could
just start over
Kristen Lindquist
—
fried green tomatoes
the last sizzle
of daddy’s garden
Pris Campbell
—
third try
my lasagna passes
the mama test
Pat Davis, NH
You’re welcome Lori! And I have to admit that Terri’s “arousal” haiku had me blushing!
Congratulations to all… I’m happy mine make it too.. Thanks to Lori Zajkowski and
Tia Haynes
Thanks to kj and Lori, and to Tia for selecting and commenting on my simple poem. Yes – that satisfying and triumphant feeling of passing the mama test. The mama test extended into many areas – sewing, needlework, ironing, etc.!
Some of my favorites this week:
dementia
her first pizza
without herself By Aljosa Vukovic Such sadness, to see a loved one who once loved a favorite food and now not able to express enjoyment.
snow tales…
on her fingertips
orange’s smell By Lucia Cardillo My Nonno placed orange peels on the wood stove so the smell would waft through the whole house. Thanks for bringing that memory up with your poem!
seafood festival
grandma’s tongs
chasing the crab By Lori A. Minor I love this for the sheer fun of it – what a sight!
Glad that you enjoyed the commentary 🙂 Aljosa’s haiku on dementia hits home for me having watched my grandma go through it. I think I felt a tie in some way to all of the poems this week. As Lemuel commented, food connects us all. It is a beautiful thing that our community of diverse writers can resonate with each other in this way.
Thank you, Pat! I’m so glad my haiku resonated with you. I loved yours as well! It really hit home for me. I’ve always loved cooking, but I’m at a stage in my life now where mama’s recipes are some of my go-tos and I just can’t seem to make them quite like she does.
Thank you, Pat for your comment …
We have exactly the same memory !!
Kudos, to all you poets and dreamers, and thank-you. Your writing is tasty.
*
We are connected by our need for nourishment. I appreciate reading glimpses of the everyday and the every-person aspects of these ku. Your intense presence comes through quietly in your compositions. You gave us poems about food, which is life, that we all share, and you fed my soul.
*
homesickness…
mom makes me
mac and cheese
Nancy Brady, Huron, Ohio
*
refugee camp…
the lingering smell
of desi roti
Hifsa Ashraf, Pakistan
*
morning
finding my Jekyll
with juice
Janice Munro
*
weekend fast
enjoying the banquet
in my head
Charles Harmon, Los Angeles, California, USA
I enjoy your commentary every week. How you describe your approach to reading and its impact on you is so thoughtful and your generosity in your uplifting comments is a delight. I too felt like my soul was fed this week.
Thanks for finding something in my haiku, Lemuel. Too many times during my college days, I suffered from homesickness and would ask for someone to come get me so that I could come home for the weekend. My sister Sally usually drove over and Mom often made me what I wanted, and her homemade Mac and cheese with bacon on top was my choice. My sisters were not as enthralled with the meal, but I loved it. Yes, Kraft’s Mac and cheese was a common meal with my roommate, but it wasn’t like Mom’s.
.
Thanks Tia for including mine with all the tasty treats. There were so many that resonate…think I just gained ten pounds.
Thank you, Lemuel. Your words resonate with me. Reading the poems and all the commentaries and personal selections this morning inspired a crescendo of feelings within me.
Some delectable ku here; just a few that struck me, for various reasons:
*
my sugary hands
the prize at the bottom
of the cereal box
Sari Grandstaff, Saugerties, NY
*
My hands were sticky like this many times growing up! While sound isn’t specified, I can hear the dry contents shifting and settling as the hands rumage in the cardboard
*
merciless
salmon and its eggs
at the sushi bar
Teiichi Suzuki. Japan
*
a devastating picture…I will never be a sushi fan
*
incomplete
without sundown
balcony supper
Richa Sharma
*
this reminded me of trips where I had a balcony…one in Greece, especially; the sundown was definitely part of the gustatory experience
*
*
breakfast for dinner
as if we could
just start over
Kristen Lindquist
*
I was trying to do something similar, based on memories of pancake dinners when my father was out of town. This is so much better than anything I came up with! Thanks for showing me how to do it
*
homemade pasta
the smell of grandma’s
apron
Pamela A Babusci
*
I had to think about this for a minute–why the apron? But little kids would have their faces at about apron height, and so would get the scents of it. Very nice!
*
ramadan morning…
the aroma of biriyani
lifting the spirit
R. Suresh Babu, india
*
I love the intertwining of physical and spiritual here. The whole point of religious ritual
*
pot luck
after the funeral
the quandary of fresh peach pie
Greer Woodward, Waimea, HI
*
here, too–the physical experience and an emotional one are close–almost too close for comfort, you could say. How enjoy life in the wake of a tragedy? Yet life must go on…
*
Thank you, everyone. And thanks to Tia for including one of mine.
You’re welcome and I also enjoyed that there were poems that touched on the spiritual or the difficult. Even current events such as Hifsa’s about refugee camps. Seeing what is closest to a poet’s heart is eye-opening to me. Your “baked apples” haiku brought up for me my own complicated relationship with my mother who I would cook and bake with when I came back home before she passed.
Thank you for your kind words on my haiku!
Thank you Laurie for your kind comments! I don’t think the breakfast cereal companies put prizes in the bottom of kids’ cereal anymore? The younger haiku readers/writers won’t have this association. But I have the same fond memory of the sound of of the crinkly inner bag in the cereal box and the dry cereal being rummaged through!
Thank you so much Tia !! And thank you for your perceptive commentary!! All the haiku are fabulous !! Lovely light and shade in the selection. Well done to all !!
Thank you, Laurie, for commenting on my poem.
pot luck
after the funeral
the quandary of fresh peach pie
It’s very helpful to know how others analyze your work. The pie moment happened to me and I remember how awkward it felt, though I doubt anyone was paying attention to what I was putting on my plate. But I am an example of frail humanity when it comes to desserts. I took a slice. It was delicious.
Thank you so much for your kind words
Thank you Tia for including one of my haiku here among so many wonderful morsels! I particularly love these two haiku with their powerful subtleties:
breakfast for dinner
as if we could
just start over
Kristen Lindquist
easy over egg
that elusive one
after all these years
Edna Beers
You are very welcome Sari! And aren’t those two haiku simply divine? It feels like they flowed out of Kristen and Edna with such immediacy and ease. Your “sugary hands” haiku had me chuckling. I love it so much!
Thank you Tia. You picked up on the lightheartedness of my haiku!
Wow that’s made me hungry! Thanks for including mine again this week, Tia, and congratulations to all those posted.
.
My dish of the day is Teiichi Suzuki’s:
.
merciless
salmon and its eggs
at the sushi bar
You’re welcome Helen! Telichi’s haiku had me cringe a bit in its subject matter and is so well done. As a vegan I have to say it was an interesting week of selecting haiku!
Thanks Tia for picking up my sushi dish bravely.
It is a delightful haiku! Happy to have picked it up 🙂
Thanks Helen !
To be honest, I like squid ink pasta rather than sushi.
I’m happy… Thank you very much, dear Lori Zajkowski!
Congratulations to all!!!
a fantastic smorgasbord of food memories….thank you poets and poets in charge of serving the dishes.