Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Breaking bread




While I carefully butter
the plumb belly of native bread
& sprinkle it with sugar,
his delicate fingers
would tear the bread into pieces
and dunk it in his warm coffee
like a wet tissue
Maybe it is out of habit
Or maybe it is to make it easier
for his dentures 
We are sliced apart
by more than 
a generation
a war
& my mother's elopement
Yet over the breakfast table 
In pajamas, grandpa and I
eat leisurely while shooing away the flies
waiting for our crumbs
Outside the sun rises
a yeast
browning the sugar fields
and settles between us
a bread
filling the spaces
what words couldn't


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - I am pleased to be your host for this last Poetics for 2014 
~  Thanks for the visit~

37 comments:

  1. So delicate and telling so much more than the story of sharing a bread.. very carefully in it's details, and the way it turns seamlessly from viewpoint to viewpoint...

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  2. I love how this poem flows from one scene to another, taking in and effectively using the surroundings as backdrop, as your poem spans time & generations. Lovely prompt today, Grace.

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  3. wonderful, sensitive telling of souls shared but in mundane terms of different times.

    'Grace-fully' written

    gracias

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  4. smiles. what a cool moment between the two of you....i spent a summer with my great uncle before he died....and we spent many an hour going over old stories...passing history on...this reminded me of those days....

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  5. "a bread
    filling the spaces
    what words couldn't"

    That was the best part of the piece for me, smiles - very wonderfully done, such a wider canvas you took with a humble beginning,

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  6. such peace and tenderness over that yummy bread... Makes me think of times spent with my grandma eating and telling stories of her and her brothers on the farm picking fruits and feeding the chickens... And the end says so much... food speaks volumes when eating it with the ones you love...

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  7. Really wonderful Grace, I love all about bread:)

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  8. What bread can do, the coming together of generations

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  9. a bread
    filling the spaces
    what words couldn't... i love this grace...what a tender moment with your granddad

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  10. I love how this tells such a beautiful of story of bread filling the spaces.

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  11. This is such a touching remembrance and made me think of my own grandpa who died so many years ago. These lines blew me away:
    Outside the sun rises
    a yeast
    browning the sugar fields
    and settles between us
    a bread
    filling the spaces
    what words couldn't

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  12. It is joy beyond measure to enrich our memories of elder-time with the breaking of bread; this piece is tender, artful, mysterious, loving, & pulls us into every line. So happy to have you hosting the posting; very nice job all around.

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  13. a lovely picture - ah dipping is the perfect combination of tastes

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  14. A wonderful poem of remembrance! I have bow reached the dunking stage and yes, it is because our old teeth cant "cut it" any more, LOL. This is poignant and beautiful, Grace. Loved it.

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  15. Oh, Grace, I've missed you voice for so long. While this whole piece is gorgeous, the wee crumb of this zinged me was your use of plumb for the bottom of the loaf.

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  16. I love your bread poem, and particularly, the companionship between the generations

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  17. loved the intimacy and relationship in this... the picture of Grandpa eating bread is so homey

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  18. ... woke up cuz of a night mare last night ... so I started some dough and baked some 20 buns ... always liked baking when troubled ...

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  19. I can taste the moment with you. Brilliant poem!

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  20. There are times in life where bread fills the silence as you savor the special moments.

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  21. Words are bread. Bread is words for the body. Such ancient things. Our partners.

    ALOHA from Honolulu
    ComfortSpiral
    <3

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  22. I have a feeling many of the responses will be similar..the idea of breaking bread being universal...fitting poem, Grace; love the browning of sugar fields.

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  23. Such an intricate poem, Grace! It reminds me of how I used to prepare the bread for Grandpa exactly how he liked it. At 10:00am sharp every morning. I miss it now that he is gone.

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  24. A wonderful, tender moment in time, what a poignant shared memory!

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  25. At least it can provide an opportunity when trying to resolve matters. Breaking the ice is not easy! Nice lines Grace!

    Hank

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  26. finely penned, Grace, a lovely glimpse of the love you shared with your grandfather. nice to see you ~

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  27. Oh so beautifully done.. love the story you told, and the ending lines were exquisite...

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  28. Grace, your remembrances are beautiful. So many memories have to do with food. Certainly you've tossed me back to memories of meals at my grandparents farm, days when food was made by hand, not bought from the store. So much was invested in "simple" food that it seems right that so many memories are related to it.

    janet

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  29. Eating together on a table, a rare things seen these days!

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  30. I love this, Grace. One of my new favs of yours. And that bread looks and sounds delicious.

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  31. So exquisitely beautiful that it brought tears to my eyes, Grace. My maternal grandfather died years before I was born, and I did not meet my paternal grandpa until I was 21. He had immigrated as a young man from Finland and spoke in broken English, although I believe he was a man of few words in any language. It was all feeling between us and very few words, as he and I shared Finnish-style coffee made by my grandmother. Thank you for this memory, like a holiday blessing for me.

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  32. Superb! Mixing metaphors of nutrition and perception. Nicely done.

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  33. Beautiful! Honest and warmly expressed.

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  34. A warm family scene of having breakfast with your grandpa.

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  35. Such a warm write.....so much said in metaphores.......loved the atmosphere created...

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  36. Ah lovely. Really beautifully put together, Grace. Thanks. k. (Manicddaily)

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  37. I remember this bread from when I lived in the Philippines. It's really good!

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