Just a Thought

This is Just to Say
-William Carlos Williams

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold


“If it ain’t a pleasure, it ain’t a poem.” William Carlos Williams made this declaration, and I have to agree. That pleasure is shared between poetry and eating. I love poetry and food interweaving such as in WCW’s poem I put above. Through his words you can almost taste the deliciously sweet and cold plums snuck from the icebox, your own mouth watering at the description.

A good poem leaves a mark, enriches the mind, makes you think and leaves a fizzy-effervescent pleasure running across the tongue as it is read out. It is complete, round and wholesome like whole-grain bread, fresh from the oven. There’s something to chew on, grains and seeds to crunch through, soft pillows and air pockets for breath. The crust may be hard but a slice of a knife or fingers twisting-tearing at the loaf/poem releases a fragrant cloud enveloping nose and mind. It settles into hair and clothes of waft out with a brush of the hand, repercussions clinging so poetry becomes bread and life and nourishing, and most importantly, a pleasure.