This month our theme was wabi-sabi — a Japanese concept recognizing and honoring impermanence and imperfection — in us and in our earthly lives. The Zoom call with my poetry sisters was long and meandering and, if you must know, a bit fumbling and imperfect. As was the practice of writing this poem itself. So meta.
My draft (below) is in honor of my dad — a subtle and exquisite cook-without-a-cookbook kind of cook…
Kitchen Wabi-Sabi
By Liz Garton Scanlon
My dad, when he still
had his eyesight,
read cookbooks
and then cooked
without them
heating the oil
crushing the garlic
adding the salt
with gutsy abandon,
simmering and searing
to a timer
of his own making
following his own
loose lead, dancing
backwards
without assurances
that his foot would land
as intended
and the meals – each taste
a soft-shoe on the tongue –
well worth that risk
To read more imperfect poetry, visit:
Laura
Tanita
Sara
Mary Lee
Tricia
Kelly
And our very own Tricia is the Poetry Friday host, too!
As for next month? We’re writing haiku (it’s the heat of summer, please forgive our brevity) that resemble classified ads or Buy Nothing Group posts. Fun, right? Please join us — we love it when you do!
What a tribute! I love the dance metaphor you wove in. I can almost smell the garlic!
haha! I sort of cook like this, too. The joy he took in his “imperfect” cooking is evident, and what is more transitory than a meal? A great use of wabi-sabi!
Liz, that is a great topic for your wabi-sabi poem. I imagined the cooking and sizzling in the pan with the oil and garlic and “gutsy abandon”. I love cooks like that who can create “taste / a soft-shoe on the tongue –” Not easy, but a beautiful skill. I’m sure there was joy in writing this poem in honor of your dad.
Wabi Sabi seems to bring out the parts of our lives that we savor, those little things that are truly the big ones. You’ve shown that so lovingly, Liz, love your father’s dance with food, “a soft-shoe on the tongue –”.
“dancing backwards” –such a great metaphor to visualize this dream-like man’s deft chef-ness!
Ohhh, this is lovely.
I love that reading the cookbook is just the first step in a whole complex dance.
With good dads, Father’s Day isn’t ever over – this one needs to be shared.
Oh, I love this “timer of his own making.” What a beautiful tribute!
Lovely poem! I especially like the dance metaphor – “each taste
a soft-shoe on the tongue –”
“Gutsy abandon” and “soft-shoe on the tongue” are wonderful descriptors, Liz. So easy to picture your dad whipping up a tasty, heartwarming meal.