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| Curtis Cole Medlock |
My Mother’s Kitchen
Mother ties her hair in
a bun,
And puts on her leather
shield.
She is gone with the
fumes of her kitchen.
Stir, stir, stir, clean
this, clean that,
Mother has been
replaced by a super powered octopus.
She stands still in the
moment.
A thought hits her,
laundry must be done!
Fold this, fold that,
start a new load.
The smell of dinner
hooks onto her nose.
BEEP BEEP BEEP!
The sides are done.
She must preserve the
heat, into the radioactive box it goes.
Time for the masterpiece.
The violin picks up
speed and the rest of the orchestra starts to join in.
Mother slices and
dices,
A little pinch of this
and a teaspoon of that.
Onto the table.
Plates are set,
perfectly align with each other.
She creates a perfect
pattern.
Small fork big fork,
plate with napkin, big knife, little spoon, big spoon, DONE.
The cups with ice cold
water place at the right.
Time to set the mood.
She sets fire to three
small white pillars.
A glowing gleam bounces
off the walls.
BEEP BEEP BEEP!
She jumps with joy.
The deed is done.
With steady hands she
takes the masterpiece of out the oven.
Everything is placed on
the table.
Her finest work of art
is ready.
She stops, slows down
time.
Takes it all in.
Dinner is served.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteSorry, I somehow managed to post my comment without finishing...
ReplyDeleteLove how you quickened the pace throughout basically the entire poem, writing things like, "Stir, stir, stir, clean this, clean that", "Fold this, fold that, start a new load", etc. but finally came to a complete stop with "Dinner is served".
Based on what I've seen with my mom, I think you did a good job conveying the craziness one might go through just to make dinner haha
YAY! Thank you!
DeleteYeah, this is a good reflection of the time and effort that takes place. I may juxtapose this with a thankful child (or and ungrateful child) so the the struggles that can come with motherhood in everyday life.
Delete...nice picture too!
ReplyDelete