Kathleen Jones has posted Barbara Crooker's poem, Ode to Chocolate, on the Tuesday Poem hub this week. Spurred on by thoughts of chocolate, black beer and sensually alluring food, I thought I'd post a dark foodie poem, too. Doris plums are my 100% guaranteed downfall. . .
Once upon a time, I considered this poem a double haiku. (It has the right number of syllables, but seems in every other way to be a dishonourable imposter.) When it was first published, it was shaped to look like the fruit.
DORIS PLUM
A plain woman's name,
Doris, but when lattice veins
burst and scarlet breaks,
warm mouths close around
her undressed flesh, lingering
her undressed flesh, lingering
in her purple scent.
CB
And here's a link to a Cuisine NZ recipe for Black Doris Plum, Rhubarb and White Chocolate Trifle. . .
Yum. I love 'undressed flesh'. They are exquisite things those peaches and I'd never thought about how ordinary the name was before. Thank you Claire!
ReplyDeleteSo are Doris plums and black boy peaches the same thing under a different name (perhaps more politically correct)? I love the peaches - wish we could get them in England. They are heavenly roasted with cinnamon and butter and served with mascarpone cheese. Come to think of it, they'd be nice with chocolate too!
ReplyDeleteAs far as I know they are two separate fruit, one a plum, and one a peach? My granny always bottled the Black Boy Peaches (yes un pc indeed, but so are Afghan biscuits and Maori Kisses and our Eskimo Lollies)
ReplyDeleteWhoops, that's me - maggie, not anonymous about the plum peach thingee.
ReplyDeleteWhat a succulent poem. One of my ideas of heaven is eating plums - Doris, omega, greengage, th elist is long - sun-ripened straight off the tree.
ReplyDeleteIt's an ideal choice for a Tuesday poem selection that's food-centred.
A banquet of words - that's another of my ideas of heavem
Harvey
Greengage being the least sensual but the sweetest of all.
ReplyDeleteWhat juice!
ReplyDeleteHello Mary, Kathleen, Maggie, Harvey & Mim
ReplyDeleteToday we meet with plum (& peach) juice on our chins?! Lovely - and just what the Doctor (would have) ordered.
I will need to look into the difference between D. plums and black boy peaches, Maggie & Mary. . . have always considered them two different fruits.
Roast plums make a most luscious feast, Kathleen! I like to drizzle a trail of manuka honey over the mascarpone. Yum, yum, yum. I love them hot or cold. They seem to get more intense the longer you leave them, too (like tamarillos).
Harvey - - - plums and poems are my idea of heaven, too. Aren't we fortunate that both are readily available? And when the one isn't, the other is!
Thanks for your contributions to today's offering, everyone.
L, C