Confessions of a Dinner-Eater

Daily Prompt: You, the Sandwich

July 23, 2013

If a restaurant were to name something after you, what would it be? Describe it. (Bonus points if you give us a recipe!)

Photographers, artists, poets: show us DINNER.

I love take-out too much;

I know it’s true,

But please try and keep it

Between us two.

I know I’m supposed to like

Green salads, juice and rice,

And sometimes I do –

I just like having a choice.

With turkey, stuffing and cranberry,

Thanksgiving dinners are the best

Good food has a way

Of making you feel blessed.

Did I mention I love apple pie?

I do.

I like frosting, cheesecake and cake

And whipped cream too.

After I’m done,

I look at what’s left

Ethiopia and India glower;

My clean-up is deft.

The washing and putting-away-ing

I really don’t mind:

I’m a Virgo – this job fits us in a way

That’s one-of-a-kind.

Oops I forgot again:

Dinner’s supposed to be light.

Eh, maybe tomorrow

If I’m bothered to get it right.

Also, I work just a little

Different from many –

I give my thanks,

After eating, for plenty.

I feel it then

And in that moment I know

That no joy can compare

To the after-dinner glow.

Utter Lack of Ability

Daily Prompt: Might As Well Jump

June 18, 2013

What’s the biggest risk you’d like to take — but haven’t been able to? What would have to happen to make you comfortable taking it?

[http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/06/18/daily-prompt-jump/]

I wrote this in “haibun” form, something I have only recently discovered, thanks to this blogger’s page and competition right here: http://yepirategunn.weebly.com/2/post/2013/06/ligo-haibun-challenge-1406-2106.html.

————————————-

I am one of those people who have two left feet. Not the kind that say it out of modesty, mind you – I am absolutely, utterly, horrendously incapable of dancing. To add to that, I’m decidedly overweight as well, making it less cute if I blunder around, tires bulging, than if, say, Cameron Diaz or Enrique Iglesias did.

I associate dancing with passion, sexuality and whirling around in the sheer excitement of living; at least, that’s what it looks like to me when others dance. I would give just about anything to be able to dance, yet unfortunately my sense of pride keeps me from making an absolute fool of myself. Funnily enough, I believe that it’s not so much a general sense of pride holding me back as much as shame: shame for my appearance and my stark lack of ability.

I believe that if I lost weight, or if I (privately) attained a certain minimum level of proficiency in any dance form, I would gain the confidence required to dance in public.

Mistakes and missteps

Make a mockery of me.

Will I ever dance?