I like to watch my father chopping vegetables,
maybe for a Sunday stir fry or a hot lamb curry,
ginger grated to gold, onions slivered to crescents
with a knife beating in steady rhythm by a big,
brown hand that minutes ago had been washed
with slow deliberation at the kitchen sink, right hand
over left, right hand over left, that now stops to scoop
the cut vegetables off the wooden block and onto a
large board sectioned into neat, aromatic squares
of pulpy reds, crinkled greens, shimmering whites,
like some sort of culinary flag that hangs for a moment
in the air before being dropped into a spiced oil that
sputters out smoke and steam, enough to mist
the thick lens of his glasses so that he wipes them
with the end of his striped, belly-stretched shirt,
all the while singing in a deep, ardent voice
an old Bollywood song that only he remembers.
One of the many reasons why Abby's poetry stands out on this site is her ability to give the reader a 100% visual's, a picture in words.
What an amazing poem this is.
In every detailed line, I see her father in full description, cooking and humming along to a song that only he knows, cooking the way he cooks and just being his wonderful self. The author expresses her love for her father from start to finish in the descriptive masterpiece.. Just outstanding!!
The fun and flavorful words she uses is another bonus to this poem, such as "pulpy and crinkled"- You can hear him cutting on the chopping board and smell the food cooking... simply Beautiful!
This piece was completely refreshing to read! The aromas created, the care in your father's actions, everything you have painted comes alive in each line. I like the allure of it and the excitement you have in watching him, like a little child caught in a moment of wonder and awe. I know you wrote this in one sentence for a reason as you replied in the comments, and I think it fits so well as I read it in a almost rushed way, fully intrigued as this atmosphere was being imagined. What I admire about this piece is that you show the reader your father, these are all his actions (cooking, singing) and you show the food he makes and everything involved, and I am inspired by this man. Not because you said "he" all the time or described exactly how he felt, but this whole piece holds such a charismatic attitude. I can feel his happiness seep through this piece. Wonderful gem, this poem is oozing with personality! (4)
This is such a heart warming write that it brought
a picture of my father in the kitchen. In that one
paragraph the writer has drawn the looks of the
character, his mood, the work he is doing; along
with the atmosphere, aroma and the things that
he is using. Each line has got vivid images for
the reader to see rather then to imagine. I also like
the way this poem ended. It has a soft touch to it. Nicely written.