Beet Poetry
Caught red-handed60 total reviews
Comment from rama devi
This made me chuckle, because I cooked a beat salad yesterday and had beet blood on my hands for hours!
Hee hee. Fun and amusing.
these lines really tickled me:
stained bloody from the crime
of loving them too much.
The use of the word SKIN is espcially apt in this context. Ha ha ha. Great personification.
Happy New Year!
Love,
rd
reply by the author on 30-Dec-2017
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This made me chuckle, because I cooked a beat salad yesterday and had beet blood on my hands for hours!
Hee hee. Fun and amusing.
these lines really tickled me:
stained bloody from the crime
of loving them too much.
The use of the word SKIN is espcially apt in this context. Ha ha ha. Great personification.
Happy New Year!
Love,
rd
Comment Written 30-Dec-2017
reply by the author on 30-Dec-2017
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Oh, great, Rama, I am glad my poem reminded you of your beet-stained hands. Mine are still stained from a beet salad I made for a Christmas potluck.
I have some great news. I bought a book of Hafiz that uses 365 of his poems for daily devotions. I look forward to reading this along with my Remi and ghazals. Thanks for the tip and thanks for the review. Have a happy and meditative New Year.
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That IS great news, my friend. So glad to turn you on to Hafiz. Rumi is my first favorite, and Hafiz close behind. You'll enjoy his sense of humor, methinks. Have a happy and meditative New Year too!
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Yes, Rama, I am up to my neck in ghazals, Rumi, and Hafiz. I rotate books. Have a meditative New Year, too!
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Yay! :-)))) Om Shanti
Comment from Ulla
Hi Andre, I actually liked this poem very much. The picture does indeed look as if a crime has been committed. I liked the play of words in the title, and my favourite lines are the two last ones. The poem leaves a great imagery. I love beetroot, especially when it's pickled. Happy New Year to you and your family. Ulla:))
reply by the author on 30-Dec-2017
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Hi Andre, I actually liked this poem very much. The picture does indeed look as if a crime has been committed. I liked the play of words in the title, and my favourite lines are the two last ones. The poem leaves a great imagery. I love beetroot, especially when it's pickled. Happy New Year to you and your family. Ulla:))
Comment Written 30-Dec-2017
reply by the author on 30-Dec-2017
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Oh, thank you, Ulla, for your generous, beet-stained, six star review. Thanks also for pointing out the playful title and lines you enjoyed.
Have a Happy New Year!
Comment from kiwigirl2821
Hello Sis Cat. I loved how you ended this one so poetically! I will say the images it left me with is the texture and physical awareness of the beet itself. Looks almost like liver ... nice work. xoxo Kiwi
reply by the author on 31-Dec-2017
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Hello Sis Cat. I loved how you ended this one so poetically! I will say the images it left me with is the texture and physical awareness of the beet itself. Looks almost like liver ... nice work. xoxo Kiwi
Comment Written 30-Dec-2017
reply by the author on 31-Dec-2017
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Yes, yes, yes, Kiwi, a keen awareness of the beet itself. Two weeks ago I was peeling beets for a Christmas potluck when I paused a moment and thought, "This would make a great poem." Thank you for your review and for loving the poetic ending.
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Anytime. Happy New Year. xx d
Comment from DR DIP
I have never had roasted beetroot before Andre but it sure looks messy when handled! lol
All I know is that when I eat it and have on say a white t shirt I always manage to spill or stain it.
Your poem tells this vividly and your accompanying picture is perfect.
dip
reply by the author on 31-Dec-2017
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I have never had roasted beetroot before Andre but it sure looks messy when handled! lol
All I know is that when I eat it and have on say a white t shirt I always manage to spill or stain it.
Your poem tells this vividly and your accompanying picture is perfect.
dip
Comment Written 30-Dec-2017
reply by the author on 31-Dec-2017
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Oh, thank you, 2018 Dip, for your review. I only eat roasted beets in salads. Nevertheless, they can be messy to peel and eat.
Comment from Dean Kuch
That photograph, Andre. It looks like someone has removed the heart of a small animal, or worse.
I can't say as I care much for the taste of beets.
Liver either.
Interestingly enough, both are foods that bolster your blood.
I love the double intendre in the title of your poem.
Very clever.
As for the member who assisted you in coming up with a conclusion by comparing your poem to William Carlos Williams' "The Red Wheelbarrow" ...
No comment.
~Dean
reply by the author on 31-Dec-2017
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That photograph, Andre. It looks like someone has removed the heart of a small animal, or worse.
I can't say as I care much for the taste of beets.
Liver either.
Interestingly enough, both are foods that bolster your blood.
I love the double intendre in the title of your poem.
Very clever.
As for the member who assisted you in coming up with a conclusion by comparing your poem to William Carlos Williams' "The Red Wheelbarrow" ...
No comment.
~Dean
Comment Written 30-Dec-2017
reply by the author on 31-Dec-2017
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Oh, thank you, Dean, for your review. An early draft included this Mayan sacrificial line "I imagined you as a heart cradled in my blood-stained hands." I did say that loving beets is a crime, so you are innocent, but I will join you on your hatred of liver.
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I like that line, Andre.
Thanks for letting me in on that.
As for the review, you're very welcome.
Happy New Year!
~Dean
Comment from Sandra du Plessis
A very well-written poem about beetroot. I love it too when the lukewarm beet is in my hands and I rub off the skin. Many of them going straight in my mouth before the reach the bowl.
reply by the author on 31-Dec-2017
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A very well-written poem about beetroot. I love it too when the lukewarm beet is in my hands and I rub off the skin. Many of them going straight in my mouth before the reach the bowl.
Comment Written 30-Dec-2017
reply by the author on 31-Dec-2017
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Yes, yes, yes, Sandra. I was peeling beets for a Christmas potluck when I paused a moment to reflect on their warmth in my stained hands. I thought, "This would make a great poem," and I spent a week writing it. Thank you for your review.
Comment from oliver818
I like your poem, it's interesting. The imagery is powerful and evocative and your way of describing beets is very novel and exciting. Thanks for sharing and have a really great day
reply by the author on 31-Dec-2017
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I like your poem, it's interesting. The imagery is powerful and evocative and your way of describing beets is very novel and exciting. Thanks for sharing and have a really great day
Comment Written 30-Dec-2017
reply by the author on 31-Dec-2017
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Yes, Oliver, I was peeling warm, just roasted beets for a Christmas potluck two weeks ago when I thought, "This would make a great poem." It took me a week to write by focusing on that powerful, evocative experience. Thank you for your review.
Comment from Janie King
This is very cleverly done. I love pickled beets, can eat them like candy. I'm not a poet so I can't give any poetic wisdom but I did enjoy it very much. Good job.
God bless. Janie
reply by the author on 31-Dec-2017
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This is very cleverly done. I love pickled beets, can eat them like candy. I'm not a poet so I can't give any poetic wisdom but I did enjoy it very much. Good job.
God bless. Janie
Comment Written 30-Dec-2017
reply by the author on 31-Dec-2017
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Thank you, Janie, for your review and for calling my poem clever. I mainly eat roasted beets in salads and may occasionally eat pickled beets at restaurants. Thanks again and God bless you, too.
Comment from Asem.inspirations
Good morning, Andre: Wow, your words do capture this photo beautifully. You actually make beets sound delicious but I don't know why I never appreciated the taste of beets. My mom used to try to feed them to me and my siblings as we were growing up but beets and radish, no way. My husband loves them but I just don't get why. It's all just a matter of opinion and taste, I guess. The taste has to grow on one, like an acquired taste. Some people don't like chitterlings but I used to love the stinking, disgusting dish.(pig intestines) I used to smell the stink of them cooking on Sunday morning and we would do our happy dances, dying to eat dinner after our Sunday meeting. Yummy! Look at that you have given me some sweet memories from your precious poem. Thank you again, Andre. You always make me smile. Have a glorious day! Sorry but I'm out of sixes.
reply by the author on 31-Dec-2017
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Good morning, Andre: Wow, your words do capture this photo beautifully. You actually make beets sound delicious but I don't know why I never appreciated the taste of beets. My mom used to try to feed them to me and my siblings as we were growing up but beets and radish, no way. My husband loves them but I just don't get why. It's all just a matter of opinion and taste, I guess. The taste has to grow on one, like an acquired taste. Some people don't like chitterlings but I used to love the stinking, disgusting dish.(pig intestines) I used to smell the stink of them cooking on Sunday morning and we would do our happy dances, dying to eat dinner after our Sunday meeting. Yummy! Look at that you have given me some sweet memories from your precious poem. Thank you again, Andre. You always make me smile. Have a glorious day! Sorry but I'm out of sixes.
Comment Written 30-Dec-2017
reply by the author on 31-Dec-2017
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First of all, Tier, write a poem about chitterlings--cooking them, frying them, eating them. Write what you love.
Early drafts of my poem contained lines about my secret to flavorful beets. I roast them with allspice, cloves, garlic, peppercorn, bay leaves, rosemary, lemon peel, orange peel, olive oil and more to infuse the beets with flavor and mask their earthiness. Otherwise, if I just roasted beets with water they would taste muddy. Now you can cook chitterlings and roast beets for your husband. Thank you for your review and have a blessed New year, too.
Comment from giraffmang
Hi Andre,
it's only just dawned on me that what you call beets we call beetroot - which I love. I live in a small village on the coast of Northern Ireland, sea on one side and countryside on the other. Each morning my wife and I walk the beach and visit a local farmer stall where we collect our beetroot, potatoes, eggs and kale. All grown almost literally on our doorstep! lol
I enjoyed this piece. The bloody crime, stained fingers is a great image.
Lovely feel to this piece and it rolls off the tongue.
The play in the title is also super.
All the best
G
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The highest and the lowest rating are not included in calculations.
reply by the author on 31-Dec-2017
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Hi Andre,
it's only just dawned on me that what you call beets we call beetroot - which I love. I live in a small village on the coast of Northern Ireland, sea on one side and countryside on the other. Each morning my wife and I walk the beach and visit a local farmer stall where we collect our beetroot, potatoes, eggs and kale. All grown almost literally on our doorstep! lol
I enjoyed this piece. The bloody crime, stained fingers is a great image.
Lovely feel to this piece and it rolls off the tongue.
The play in the title is also super.
All the best
G
This rating does not count towards story rating or author rank.
The highest and the lowest rating are not included in calculations.
Comment Written 30-Dec-2017
reply by the author on 31-Dec-2017
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Oh, thank you, G, for your review of my playful poem about beets, or what you would call beetroots. I was peeling warm, just roasted beets in my stained hands for a Christmas potluck when I thought, "This would make a great poem."
Thanks again, and I wish you the best in the New Year.
