Pancakes
Looking at this plate of pancakes
a lonely meal for one
I can't help but think of Saturday mornings
when I was seven and my family
would rise after the sun
and mix and match and make a mess
of the lumpy pancake batter.
And we would crumble in eggshells
sometimes on accident, sometimes not
but either way the crunchy pancakes
tasted like sunlight through the window
golden and slightly sweet.
~~~
Coffee
I scowl at the solitary cup of coffee
next to the plate.
It brings back memories of when I was ten.
My dad and I would sit at the table
me with my bowl of cereal,
him with his cup of coffee.
We would talk about how much fun we were
going to have and how great it was going to be.
We each had a grin so big and wide on our faces.
About an hour later the news comes.
"Hey bud. I don't think I'm going to be up for it today,"
he says. "Maybe next week?"
It was fake.
The smile, the laughs, the promises.
All fake.
That was the first straw of many.
The first cut.
The first bruise.
~~~
Day-old pizza
The slice of pizza mocks me
with limp vegetables and unappetizing cheese.
I know I should warm it up or something
but I just can't make myself care.
I'm used to cold pizza, anyway.
I ate it when I was naive and thirteen
slowly realizing that my family wasn't perfect.
We were more like
a burnt crust covered by a thin layer of sauce
that silently slides off the piece of pizza.
Just like the toppings,
my family was slipping too.
Points:
Time spent:
IP address:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
140,071 Literary Works • 672,990 Reviews
Hey!
First of all, lemme just say I loved how you associate a broken family with food. The idea of a solitary coffee mug instead of the laughter of all your loved ones is beautifully depressing.
I really liked the ending, how you describe the family as a slice of pizza with the toppings slipping away slowly.
This part was also really nice:
"Hey bud. I don't think I'm going to be up for it today,"
he says. "Maybe next week?"
It was fake.
The smile, the laughs, the promises.
All fake.
On the whole, I really loved this poem.
Keep writing,
Hi NivedaJames, thanks for the review!! I'm glad you liked the food comparison! ^-^ Ooh and in case you missed it, this is actually just the first part of the poem-- you can read the second part here! Thanks again!! :D
Hi! Here to drop a quick review.
Let me say I'm not the best at poetry, so my review will probably be a little bit scuffed. Let's dive in.
I really loved reading this. The food theme initially was a bit daunting. I was like, Woah, okay. But as I read it made sense, and I'm really glad that you chose this specifically. Combating darker topics with lighter themes can help the reader connect, and in this case, it worked. Food is really just a big part of many memories and childhood.
I don't think I have any complaints or things to critique. Maybe some of the sections with dialogue could have been more concrete—for example: "Hey bud. I don't think I'm going to be up for it today,"
he says.
That's probably just the website being formatted weirdly and cutting things off. But aside from that, this is phenomenal! Going to go read the second part. Please keep writing poetry!
Thanks for the review, orbiteliza!! And yay, it's nice to hear that the food theme made sense! ^-^ @MapleWay and I will definitely keep writing!! :D
Check out the second part here! ^-^
Pancakes: Part 2