Writing about three pieces is not as easy as I had thought. I took three different ones- a cup, my dad and newspaper. In fact, I have taken few more and tried to connect all those here. I wrote a very simple verse. I post this for Monday Poetry Train too.
designed with complexity,
cup sits there on a coaster-
frothy coffee grows cold
aroma infuses environs.
my dad reaches towards it,
inhaling with enjoyment
sips, his expression akin
to deep ecstatic pleasure.
glasses perched on his nose,
glances through newspaper-
is lost in sports, coffee now
forgotten, nearly discarded.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
** When I am engrossed in reading, be it newspaper or a book, after a few sips my cup of tea is forgotten and is always poured down the drain. However, I do prepare a cuppa before I sit down to read. The only difference is, my dad loved coffee, I like tea.
25 comments:
I love coffee, spiced chai, green tea... They all are so comforting, and I grab a cup before I sit down to read or write, or sometimes just to stare out a window. It is one of the little indulgences I give myself in life, and my mood will dictate which I prefer at any given moment.
In regards to the poem, you linked the three together very nicely, and I can relate to the discarded remnants, as concentration persuades abandonment of carnal pleasures.
I think you just done great with those three words!! It flows well, and I could really see it and imagine why this cup of coffee was forgotten!
You struggled with this? It doesn't show at all, G.
Yeah, I was laughing as you kept following me from Michele's today. What timing!
'frothy coffee grows cold
aroma infuses environs'
Mmm! Now I want one. I love the image you paint of your dad's ecstatic enjoyment of the coffee, only to pale before his passion for sports.
The thing I've inherited from my dad - among other things - is to go on laughing tangents. If something struck him funny, everything would stop while he laughed himself into tears. Me too!
Lovely images, Gautami, and I think they linked very well together. (Mine is up).
Flows quite well and the imagery is wonderful. As always, you did a magnificent job.
Incurable Disease of Writing
simple, beautiful, precise.
You summon him well, Gautami.
I really enjoyed this, and I think you used the three elements perfectly to create a snapshot of your father -literal and figurative.
I often do the same with my morning cup of coffee - although it's usually writing that distracts me from drinking it :)
A very moving poem Gautami. It has all the senses engaged.
Rose
xo
This was a nice poem.
Derek
http://eatsbugs.wordpress.com
well this was beautiful ,, and i might add did not lend itself to a struggle at all...
A very nice picture painted with your words.
I like the contrast of moods between stanza #2 and #3. :)
At first I read this as a lovely remembrance by a daughter but on a second reading I felt like the daughter was sad that her father was more interested in his coffee and sports than in paying attention to her. Could be I'm way off base but, either way, an excellent poem!
Linda, my dad passed away in May 2o02. My memories of him has never ceased in any way. I can still see him in my mind with his glasses and reading. I wrote here about that. I loved to watch him read. He read to me when I was a kid and when he read for himself.
I am sad that he is no more. However, I never ever felt neglected when he was there.
a cup half full
of coffee gone cold
autumn ends
I think you saw an earlier version of this, in which line 3 was "autumn is here." It seems relevant to either end of the season.
Haiku is to poetry as espresso is to coffee--; )
I like this - I like the way one thing links to the next until you have built a full moment at the table.
I'm a tea person too and with a sore throat lately, I've been downing lots of herbal teas and some decaf chai, too.
This is a terrific poem- very human. I agree with Jill - your words flow so nicely.
Like your way to go around the blogger link constraints.
Want another set of prompts? http://challenge.groups.vox.com/
that always happens to me: cold tea/coffee if i get into reading or writing. what a great idea for a poem and also to connect with your dad.
quiet but very big. nice
I can identify with this and it's so clearly written -
my sweet sherry is burning a hole in the bottom of my glass - I forgot to drink it!
That was fabulous Gautami - like a truly human moment captured in amber. errr- okay, i'm tired and that analogy sucked. But you know what i mean.
ha, i can relate to that.
beautifully written, gautami.
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