Timing
I try to time the toasting
of the morning sprouted bagel
so that the butter doesn’t melt
before the eggs are boiled
The tea should still be hot
before the eggs have cooled down
before their gold is spread like wealth
on the new day’s wheel of fortune
A pen should be nearby
and notebook pages spacious
The chair should be placed near a window
In the best case scenario, it should rock
The disposition should be even
Not overly sunny or sullen
Silence should be noticed
although words can be read out loud
Words can be tested for rhythm
or come together for unexpected meaning
They can be chosen for their freshness
and measured for preciseness
I try not to drip the yoke
that hardens like wax
down the front of my robe
or worry that inspiration
is like a meal too quickly consumed
The tea lingers the longest
It can be carried around
like a half-finished poem
sipped to the last cold drop
or forgotten
like the breakfast plate
dropped in the sink
and the leftover crumbs
that have washed and settled
in trails that can’t be followed
___Colleen Redman 1/14_______dVerse Poets Pub
January 7th, 2014 10:43 am
compulsive or obsessive? Or. The ritual of being yourself is a finely tuned apparatus honed over the years of just being you -whatever that maybe?
Whilst relaxing in my Phrontistery this morning, leafing through the book Contemporary Canadian Art, I looked at painting entitled Landscape of Obsession, your poem I think is the poetic wordy version. Enjoyed, thank you. I always like the place from which your poetry comes from; always with a ‘open door policy’ in place.
January 7th, 2014 4:22 pm
sometimes is does seem it can be so quickly consumed but every time i go back there seems to be a meal waiting for me…i do love breakfast though…mmm….and every tale can be followed when we come back to it…smiles.
January 7th, 2014 4:38 pm
Lovely poem – a beautiful word picture that evoked pleasant memories
January 7th, 2014 4:41 pm
ah that made me smile… i love the tea being carried around like a half-finished poem.. the trails that can’t be followed made me smile.. some of my poems are like that… in the end, i have no idea how they became what they are
January 7th, 2014 4:56 pm
Colleen, I like your poem. I can identify with wanting the timing to be just perfect. I also like the idea of finding the perfect words, testing them for freshness and rhythm….and inspiration, oh that inspiration, we find it where we can, don’t we?
January 7th, 2014 5:20 pm
I too like to have the right kind of setting when I work or write, particularly in the morning for some reason. And it is definitely better when we have the time and can test and taste words.
January 7th, 2014 6:21 pm
There is something calming, almost serene, in morning rituals–the taste of butter and jam (and words) on our tongue, the tea that lingers, the crumbs we throw away. Yes, I like how you captured being “sated” by both food and words. Well done.
January 7th, 2014 6:22 pm
As usual, I love your style, Colleen. Just yes, on these thoughts of timing, tea…and inspiration is too quickly consumed. love.
January 7th, 2014 6:28 pm
The tea lingers the longest
It can be carried around
like a half-finished poem
sipped to the last cold drop
or forgotten…I just love this. 🙂 Happy New Year!
January 7th, 2014 7:37 pm
ugh, perfect scene here… that is a writer’s morning… plus, breakfast is the best meal of the day… smiles
January 7th, 2014 7:53 pm
I particularly like the idea of carrying the half finished poem…it seems I always have one or two at hand. Your poem is a pleasant evocation of a writer’s perfect morning. Very fine writing.
January 7th, 2014 8:38 pm
I love how this feels to me–full of the calmness of the day and how each task leads of its own accord to the next–beautiful writing!
January 7th, 2014 8:59 pm
Sounds like my kind of breakfast. Enjoyed this!
January 7th, 2014 9:12 pm
Very nice. I can picture this perfectly. 🙂
January 7th, 2014 9:21 pm
‘trails that can’t be followed.’ Colleen, this picture of an early morning quiet writing place and time is splendid. Just splendid.
So glad to meet you here in the pub.
January 7th, 2014 9:43 pm
Delicious write up! 🙂
January 7th, 2014 9:51 pm
How beautiful the moments are that you open up and share with us. My favorite stanza because I so agree: “The tea lingers the longest
It can be carried around
like a half-finished poem
sipped to the last cold drop
or forgotten” Wonderful!
January 7th, 2014 10:42 pm
a poem of wisdom with the earth
January 7th, 2014 11:10 pm
sipping the tea…like a half finished poem…mornings have their words…very nice…thank you for sharing…bkm
January 7th, 2014 11:22 pm
Really great imagery here. Love how it all comes together.
January 8th, 2014 4:23 am
A good metaphor for writing poetry and a great breakfast! I’m drooling…
January 8th, 2014 2:36 pm
Such an interesting piece – the preciseness of how one writes is clear, unique and intriguing.
January 8th, 2014 4:48 pm
Ah… this sounds like a blissful way to start the day! I wonder if this is what mornings will feel like to me once my kids leave my home. I hope so.
January 8th, 2014 7:21 pm
i get what you are trying to say here – and love, love the words you used, the imagery you presented – wonderful..
January 9th, 2014 11:23 am
well Yes..i think that cooking is a type of poetry unto itself…
But no..i cannot cook..and even oatmeal..is quite a challenge.. for me…
So oh my lord..if anything happens to my wife’s poetry of cooking…
I might be eating out..and no longer reading her poetry in a plate.. of anymore…
It’s so easy for a man to become almost totally disabled..just from being loved too much..
Truly It IS..a disabling condition..sometimes..being loved too much…
But with that said..happy breakfast to ya..and enjoy your poetry of cooking even more…
I think i’ll try that someday..after i finish the free lance underwear thingy…and all of that2…
Oh and ynot..i’ll wish ya..a happy 2014..again 3…:)
January 11th, 2014 9:56 pm
Good timing without rhyming…