The Flavors of the Broth

The Flavors of the Broth

In the soup, out of the soup, eating the soup,
warmly I came, I dreamed, I breathed the vapors, I
awakened in the dream, I conquered and
took a nap in the dream and
fell in the soup that
had turned cold enough to swim in.

In and out and in and out
the heart beats fast

Walking to the beat, there is music that
runs along with tickles and feathers and
I fly through the cloud with thunderous beats,
but the song of the rain makes me happy to land in a field
where dreams grow ingredients for soup.

The rain drives the worms to the surface for the bird to eat,
a mourning for the worm, a morning
for the nourished avian to sing,
share its dreams, give flying lessons, though
many do it with the mettle of metal glistening in the sun
an orchestra of pitter patter, chirps, and lub dubs, a
dubbing onto emergent things, the spirits
that travel in and out of dreams and fantasies like
a throb of a celestial trombone, sliding in and out
landslides without snow, flying without feathers or metal
shiny without light, beingness behind symbol, light of love,
invisible but soaring in the light of meandering love
listening to the grand and gentle splash, ha the cushioned percussion

Clouds are cymbals, puffy beats, and do
play with the food for thought. Could
clouds be as tasty as marshmallows? I’d say
only if serve with celestial soup —

the four course dinner: to dream, to fly, to love, to be
or not to be alone
in the breath of life there are many, there are one
fragrance wafts along the way waiting for an inhale, a
hail for a sigh

rest ye breaths for the butterfly. The flutter is a flit, a flirt of heaven;
kiss me.



4 thoughts on “The Flavors of the Broth

  1. Beautiful…oh so beautiful (sigh) it makes my heart pitter, patter, flutter and fly. So romantic, especially how it ends with ‘kiss me’. mmmm, the four course dinner sounds delightful and all of the wordplay feels like a swirling dance. Makes me feel like a smitten-kitten. I’ll probably read this a hundred more times and still find something newly beautiful about it each time. I don’t know why i didn’t see this poem until this morning, it says you put it up on the tenth but i’ve been on here since then and i know i’ve clicked on the read blogs tab. Maybe my scatterbrainess is worse than i thought. But anyway, i’m ecstatic to start my Sunday with words of such grace and beauty…

  2. Thanks very much. That’s encouraging how you perceived it. I thought a lot of things were mismatched and the metaphors switched abruptly. Like in “soaring in the light of meandering love”, meandering matches a river metaphor but “light” seems out of place. Maybe I mean “lightness”. Well maybe in the sense of “river of light”. Sometimes it seems very confusing. But then on the other hand, reading through it without thinking seems to feel right. I don’t know — I was going to make a lot of changes. Maybe the imagination can carry the inconsistencies along. Hmm, now that I think about it, people say “splash of light”. So maybe it’s an easy transition. It drifts a lot and so do my feelings about it. Maybe incoherence is allowed. I don’t know. Oh, yeah, and I think I meant avalanche without snow or something — no that’s worse… it’s supposed to match “flying without wings or an airplane” to go with invisible things etc. Maybe messes are more interesting than neat things.

  3. I wrote another messy one just now. It was inspired by the comments in the one previous to this one. I looked around in the dictionary and “scatteredness” is a word even though spell check doesn’t think so.

  4. hmmm…well, It felt right/good to me…I mean it wasn’t odd or anything. When reading i wasn’t confused or lost…maybe a bit excited but i liked the meandering and the light. I’m sure if you decide to make any changes it’ll be great still.
    I’m happy that scatteredness is a word, it makes it feel more valid or ok to feel that way for some reason. I’m so sleepy right now, i think i’m going to go to bed. sweet dreams – all of your new poems are lovely.

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