Skip to main content

As Goes the Kitchen

 Sharing with The Sunday Muse for Sunday Muse #164. Come join the revelry!



It isn't the chicken or the egg. It is the egg cup,
First among many things lingering in the cabinet
That will need bubble-wrap;
Because it has a story and we met the potter
Who threw it a festival when we were still
Adding to the kitchen.
The egg-cup is the first of these dishes that I,
Standing by the island and crumpling paper,
Want to make sure is boxed.

-- Chrissa 

Comments

  1. hedgewitchJune 13, 2021 at 7:50 AM

    Objects can indeed have all kinds of meaning for us relating to their context, as if they were alive, our friends and connections, or enemies and curses, burdens of responsibility or bright memories that share our days--any power of life with which we imbue them, as you do so cleanly in this poem. Evocative and full of delicate nuance.

    ReplyDelete
  2. qbitJune 13, 2021 at 8:13 AM

    "It isn't the chicken or the egg. It is the egg cup," - fabulous. Perfect opening line. And the rest takes us to that moment of needing to decide what goes with us and what to discard in our lives. A reckoning with what is important, what stories we need to keep. Love this.

    ReplyDelete
  3. indybevJune 13, 2021 at 8:54 AM

    And how could the anonymous potter have known his creation was destined to be bubble-wrapped in memories of that festival afternoon. We are all gossamer threads intersecting serendipitously.

    ReplyDelete
  4. FireblossomJune 13, 2021 at 9:07 AM

    Oh yes. How many things do I have like this, that no one would know what they mean to me, or why?

    ReplyDelete
  5. Carrie Van HornJune 13, 2021 at 9:42 AM

    That first line is like a fishing lure and you drew me in my friend! I can relate to how things we have hold stories and we cannot let them go. This is lovely Chrissa!

    ReplyDelete
  6. HelenJune 13, 2021 at 12:44 PM

    This poem had me time traveling ... all the moves cross country, seven states....the precious artifacts that simply could not have been destroyed. A beautiful write, Chrissa! See you Wednesday.

    ReplyDelete
  7. robkistnerJune 13, 2021 at 2:35 PM

    Treasures are precious, and irreplaceable in their essence — really liked this Chrissa! ⭐️đŸ™‚

    ReplyDelete
  8. JimJune 13, 2021 at 4:44 PM

    Got to save that egg cup!! I think we have one some place
    but I haven't seen it since we moved six years ago.
    ..

    ReplyDelete
  9. ms_liliJune 13, 2021 at 6:36 PM

    I like your personalization of the image to your life, Chrissa.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Susie ClevengerJune 14, 2021 at 12:46 PM

    I too like how you took the image to your life. We can have a house full of whatever, but in a cabinet there is one thing that must be protected because we can't imagine grieving its loss.

    ReplyDelete
  11. kaykualaJune 15, 2021 at 11:38 AM

    Love the idea of an egg cup, Chrissa! Very popular before when 2 half-boiled was a regular breakfast treat. Fear of high cholesterol made it less seen. Now cholesterol is found to be less threatening it might make a come-back.

    Hank

    ReplyDelete
  12. SunitaJune 15, 2021 at 12:36 PM

    Such warmth and nostalgia in this poem. Made my day, Chrissa :)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Turn Away

  Sharing with The Sunday Muse , for #193. Turn away, like the moon, listening... Listening to the planet that rumbles with a hundred million slaps. All the feet, all the rockets, all the  pistons in the cars on the asphalt over the chasm where the veins run deep, blue in sunlight, black at night. Running over the chasm.  Once or twice they ran to you. Once or twice they ran by. Greetings and salutations. The sky is an entertaining shade of concrete yellow as the rain promised earlier in the week makes good on its arrival. It's a disturbing bright sallow sky, the kind of sky that puts you in mind of old movies and degraded film stock and the pops and crackles incidental to the main story.  Several years ago I made a resolution to journal more and last year I came across a video that suggested I actually re-read those journals, at least those of the previous year, at the beginning of each new year. Technically, I have kept the journal resolution, making daily notes in...
15 comments
Read more

Treacle Season

  Sharing with The Sunday Muse #190 ,  hosted this week by Carrie. Keaton was great in that show—the one with wings— Where he was constantly a [man]child on a ledge  dreaming an angel who became a superhero.   She was a sarcastic (fake?) angel—it was the 80s— But always good, on time, her lessons easy, Easy as it would have been for him to fall.   The metaphor so obvious...but I didn't get it. Nor the easy and obvious good. (/s)   I watch the TV movie every other December Remembering believing in easy And crushing on this character, that city...   Angels should be sweet, sarcastic figures, knowing (like nurses and social workers) we prefer Sleeping on the ledge, reckless to call for "heroes." To clear up any confusion:  there is no Michael Keaton movie we watch every holiday season. Although, if there were...I'd probably watch it.  -- Chrissa
16 comments
Read more

The Soul and The Spine

  Sharing with The Sunday Muse #195 . Come and share! When it blew out the candle, It began to speak, voice low,  eyes dimmer than flame. Jenn believed, once upon a childhood (she's still there... but it's waning), it inhaled fire. Spines, tonight. Gears ladder bones and metal and plastic, all that lived, rungs to heaven. Heaven is a level of space where you can't breathe  so they used to send the dead. When the flame goes, it takes our memories with it. But not bot files. Maybe it believes  she'll sleep easier if bots go breathless, too. It continues murmuring and she pretends she's hearing a confession in a box Like the song her mother plays when the dark stretches  between signals We can handle shocks. She can handle the dark, the small  not-flame of its eyes. It's finally winter!! Which means bitmapped frost on the roofs, cold mornings, and a table full of succulents that are pretty much glaring at me because the kitchen window isn't the same as full su...
14 comments
Read more