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Bread, Pastries, & Pies: Photo Play 2

By Heather Eure 36 Comments

Thanks to everyone who participated in last week’s Photo Play and Prompt. Each photograph that was shared made us hungry for more.

Bread, Pastries, and Pies

Every contribution was a feast for the eyes, although we confess to wishing we’d been there in person to join in the feeding frenzy that surely followed.

Bread, Pastries, and Pies

We also enjoyed reading the freshly-baked verses from our poets. Here’s a poem from Donna that finds beauty in the negative spaces of puff pastry:

Each empty space
in my puff pastry heart
was forged…
an alchemy of fire.

Fossils from gifts
where sweetness
now pools.

And so,
I fill each hole
with

thanks.

—by Donna Falcone

 

PHOTO PLAY 2 POETRY PROMPT: Pick a photo you can really sink your teeth into and write a poem. Share it with us in the comment box below. Yum!

***

Be sure to check out the highlights from Photo Prompt participants on the Photo Play Pinterest board! And keep clicking and/or playing with words.

Photos by S. Etole, SimplyDarlene, and Monica Sharman. Post by Heather Eure.

________________________

Sometimes we feature your poems in Every Day Poems, with your permission of course. Thanks for writing with us!

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  • Author
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Heather Eure
Heather Eure
Heather Eure has served as the Poetry Editor for the late Burnside Collective and Special Projects Editor for us at Tweetspeak Poetry. Her poems have appeared at Every Day Poems. Her wit has appeared just about everywhere she's ever showed up, and if you're lucky you were there to hear it.
Heather Eure
Latest posts by Heather Eure (see all)
  • Poetry Prompt: Misunderstood Lion - March 19, 2018
  • Animate: Lions & Lambs Poetry Prompt - March 12, 2018
  • Poetry Prompt: Behind the Velvet Rope - February 26, 2018

Filed Under: Blog, Food Poems, Photo Play, Photography prompts, poetry prompt, poetry teaching resources, writing prompts

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Comments

  1. Elizabeth W. Marshall says

    January 19, 2015 at 9:20 am

    Donna, I love this from you. Utterly delectable. Perfect blend of savory and sweet. It’s freshness wins my heart.

    Reply
    • Donna says

      January 19, 2015 at 4:41 pm

      Thank you Elizabeth. 🙂

      Reply
  2. Simply Darlene says

    January 19, 2015 at 11:06 am

    thank ye for including my pic between pie and cake, what a sweet place to be 🙂

    my poetical offering based on bread image (revised from my site)

    i found her
    chewing
    through walnuts,
    cranberries,
    butter
    heavy
    toast. red
    lip-
    stick colored her
    coffee mug,
    a cigarette
    smoldered smoke
    heavy.
    crumbs,
    ashes
    clung to her
    table
    linens.

    Reply
    • Donna says

      January 19, 2015 at 4:43 pm

      Darlene, it’s a delicious photo, and the poem … so sensory-rich, and loving.

      Reply
    • Sandra Wirfel says

      January 20, 2015 at 10:04 am

      This could have been my mom when I was little and she smoked in the house, everything except the lipstick on the coffee mug, she never wore lipstick. Very nice.

      Reply
    • Bethany Rohde says

      January 21, 2015 at 2:42 am

      I love the repeated theme of: “heavy.” I enjoyed the unique richness throughout your piece.

      Reply
    • Simply Darlene says

      January 21, 2015 at 9:59 am

      Thanks, Donna & Sandra & Bethany… a reflection of my grandma.

      Reply
  3. Monica Sharman says

    January 19, 2015 at 3:44 pm

    Thanks for the feature and the yummy prompt! Donna, your first two lines are my favorites.

    Reply
    • Donna says

      January 19, 2015 at 4:43 pm

      Oh Monica, you really had my mouth watering last week. Love this image. Thank you for your comment. 🙂

      Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      January 20, 2015 at 8:23 pm

      Great picture, Monica. Bet that cake was amazing. I adore mango. Could probably eat one every day if someone else cut it up for me. I make a mess and it’s downright embarrassing the way I chew on the pit. 🙂

      Reply
      • Monica Sharman says

        January 24, 2015 at 12:43 am

        Like a dog chews on a bone. If we didn’t eat a mango that way, it would be a terrible waste. 🙂

        Reply
  4. Robbie Pruitt says

    January 20, 2015 at 3:21 pm

    Sustenance

    Soft bread
    Porous as the earth
    Beneath a hardened crust
    Fired under the crucible of heat
    A golden brown, like rust
    Broken as it is, broken as it must
    And offered up for us to eat

    © January 20, 2015, Robbie Pruitt

    Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      January 20, 2015 at 8:18 pm

      I like this very much, Robbie. Thank you for sharing it!

      Reply
      • Robbie Pruitt says

        January 20, 2015 at 11:21 pm

        Thank you very much Heather. Appreciate you reading and commenting.

        Reply
    • Bethany Rohde says

      January 21, 2015 at 2:26 am

      “Porous as the earth” is a gorgeous simile. Thank you for sharing your piece.

      Reply
    • Richard Maxson says

      January 21, 2015 at 12:37 pm

      Robbie, I enjoyed this, particulary “Fired under the crucible of heat”

      Reply
  5. Richard Maxson says

    January 20, 2015 at 10:02 pm

    Best Cherry Pie

    I climbed the cherry tree in my Grandmother’s backyard,
    the bark was black, the trunk

    split from trunk by lightning long before me,
    the brief fire healed now.

    I would fill the bucket with what I did not
    consume, red the color of blood shining
    in the sun, the stems like drowning hands
    reaching from a sea of arching waves.

    Between the spaces of her beer and cigarettes,
    naps on the couch—her bulk threatening her Chihuahua,
    her lashing out at my Papaw, motionless,
    leaning against a wall, she performed
    the sweet and tart miracle of cherry pie.

    Some memories rise above life and death,
    they cut like razors through long recited grievances.
    I can recall with effort her leathery skin and tongue,
    sharp and foul, but I see her heart flowing with the pectin-rich
    syrup that let spill from a crust something made new,
    life giving, with a sharp sweetness
    that moved through me as I imagined lightning would.

    Reply
    • Bethany Rohde says

      January 21, 2015 at 2:40 am

      Wow. Powerful piece, Richard. I love the images from the black tree bark to the “stems like drowning hands.” What a great job you’ve done in describing a complicated family member of the speaker. Ending with lightning seems fitting.

      Reply
    • Simply Darlene says

      January 21, 2015 at 10:05 am

      My favorite of yours so far, Richard… place and time and flow and how you’ve stitched the beginning and end together.

      Reply
    • Richard Maxson says

      January 21, 2015 at 12:48 pm

      Thank you Bethany and Darlene for commenting. I appreciate your encouragement.

      Reply
    • Donna says

      January 21, 2015 at 4:41 pm

      Richard, your words – so powerful. How you’ve reconciled the bitter and the sweet … it’s so moving. And so, as I to tell you that I wrote this:

      this is the new math

      the math of cherry pie
      where all of the bitter
      plus
      all of the sweet
      equals
      love resting
      between flaky crusts

      Reply
      • Richard Maxson says

        January 21, 2015 at 7:22 pm

        Thank you, Donna, for your kind words. The new math would serve the world well.

        Reply
  6. Olga Salimova says

    January 21, 2015 at 12:31 am

    Hey, Big Daddy, I miss you.

    I miss you most of all

    When I wake up one wet morning

    So early that the dark iron sky

    Conceives just a tear of daylight

    In the corner of its eye.

    Hey, Big Daddy, I miss you.

    I miss a piece of white bread,

    Warm like a newborn,

    Thin-skin butter and a cup of coffee

    In an outstretched arm.

    Especially today, when a mucker wind

    Mats soggy leaves and mixes sore dirt,

    And my cup is torn into pieces,

    And my bread is a heap of crumbs;

    I miss you, my wonderful central;

    I miss you being part of my life.

    Reply
    • Bethany Rohde says

      January 21, 2015 at 2:46 am

      Thanks for sharing your poem with us. I especially loved the line: “Mats soggy leaves and mixes sore dirt”

      Reply
    • Richard Maxson says

      January 21, 2015 at 12:41 pm

      Welcome, Olga. I like the language in this entire section;it’s very original:

      Especially today, when a mucker wind

      Mats soggy leaves and mixes sore dirt,

      And my cup is torn into pieces,

      And my bread is a heap of crumbs;

      Reply
    • Donna says

      January 21, 2015 at 1:31 pm

      So much emotion in this.
      So rich and powerful – the imagery is so strong I can’t even pick a favorite part, although I was particularly struck by thin-skin butter and a cup of coffee…

      So glad you shared, and so nice to meet you here, Olga.

      Reply
    • Elizabeth Marshall says

      January 25, 2015 at 11:23 am

      Welcome Olga. Thank you for trusting us with your words. So fresh and original. Lovely

      Reply
  7. Simply Darlene says

    January 21, 2015 at 11:57 am

    (regarding pecan pie)

    homemade crust
    encircles golden
    time laden, thick
    filling. sugar simmered, spice
    stirred. recipe instructions stuck
    to cupboard door: caramelize
    nuts – untouchable things of
    dreams and movies and magazines

    because wistful, wishful thinking a pie
    does not make

    cut the corners
    of paper pouches, dry
    chocolate pudding poofs! across
    forearms as hand-mixer spins
    ’round ’round ’round
    milk jug splattered brown. slop
    full the thin tin pan’s graham cracker
    store bought crust

    no doubt we’ll eat our instant pie
    with a spoon

    Reply
    • Richard Maxson says

      January 21, 2015 at 12:44 pm

      I love this, Darlene! My favorite part is the sound of this read aloud:

      cut the corners
      of paper pouches, dry
      chocolate pudding poofs! across
      forearms as hand-mixer spins
      ’round ’round ’round
      milk jug splattered brown. slop
      full the thin tin pan’s graham cracker
      store bought crust

      Reply
      • SimplyDarlene says

        January 21, 2015 at 4:16 pm

        thank ye kindly – it’s my fav part, too 😉

        Reply
    • Elizabeth Marshall says

      January 25, 2015 at 11:21 am

      Love every syllable of this.I would LOVE to hear you read it. ♡

      Reply
  8. S. Etole says

    January 23, 2015 at 10:10 am

    Thank you for including the pecan pie photo and Darlene’s creative take.

    Reply
  9. Elizabeth Marshall says

    January 25, 2015 at 11:17 am

    Breaking Bread

    Words swirled
    Round
    Cut
    By truth
    While I slice
    Butter
    You cut calories
    Measured
    Disciplined
    All business
    Cut the fat
    Portion paragraphs
    With precision every time
    Perfection rules your hand
    Perfect poetry every time
    You always liked
    The end
    I
    The middle
    Ground
    Cinammon our shared
    Spice
    One ingredient
    Common
    come communion with me
    the end
    is near

    Reply
  10. Elizabeth Marshall says

    January 25, 2015 at 11:24 am

    * commune * rather ^^^

    Reply
  11. Sandra Wirfel says

    February 6, 2015 at 3:46 pm

    http://www.nytimes.com/2014/04/23/dining/toasted-to-perfection-gradually.html?_r=0

    The perfect toast. I recently read an article in the New York Times, it made me happy and made me want to share it with all of you. I don’t have the poem done yet “Buttered Toast.”

    Reply

Trackbacks

  1. Poetry Prompt: Cookie of Good Fortune - says:
    January 26, 2015 at 8:00 am

    […] to everyone who participated in last week’s poetry prompt. Here is part of a poem from Darlene we […]

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