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Showing posts with label food poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food poetry. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Breakfast


















By Justine C. Tajonera

We break the fast
together,
opening doors from
our dreams,
yawning, gathering
ourselves
together.

We break the bread
together,
spreading cream cheese
and strawberry jam,
taking coffee,
vitamins
while sunlight
streams onto
the table.

I could live
for this morning
ritual,
the smiles we give
each other,
the question:
what will you do
today?

I kiss each one
of you,
before I
leave,
taking you
with me
all through
the day.

(Jan. 13, 2010)
Image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/darwinbell/3572741098/

Monday, January 04, 2010

Pink Donut

by Justine C. Tajonera

Nothing tastes as good as
the color on this donut.
His choice overrides everything:
the taste of the donut,
the place where we buy it.
Nothing matters except that
he chooses a pink one.
Few have the privilege
of an obstinate choice,
a dedication so pure,
so free.

No one will understand
this but us,
his bewildered,
adoring parents.
The chaotic universe
looms large
in the background
but we are safe
together
gathered around
our son's
pink
donut.

(Jan. 3, 2010)

Image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/7310714@N06/3741991820

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Donuts

By Justine C. Tajonera

I see them sitting
by a food stand
along the train station.
I can tell
from the way
they hold their
donuts in their
hands
that they
have been
anticipating
this moment
for weeks.
Though they are
in rags and
smeared with dirt
the space around
them glows.
If I could but
parallel their
divine contentment
for every little
slight satisfaction
in my life
I would be
in Paradise.

(Sept. 22, 2009
Boni Ave. MRT Station, Mandaluyong City)


Monday, August 31, 2009

Saying Grace at Palaisdaan

By Justine C. Tajonera

Before we leave
Quezon,
we have a meal
of grilled tilapia and shrimps
and hito stewed in
coconut milk
and pineapples.
We walk along
the floating
bamboo bridges
over the koi
and tilapia
pond,
looking for
our nook.
We find the
perfect spot
behind a stone
fish fountain
and a wheel.
We perch on a
wooden swing,
contemplating
the wind
sweeping over
rice terraces
that seem to reach
until the base
of Mt. Banahaw.
Life could not
be sweeter than
this.

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