The writer’s morning
begins
not with food
but with words,
stories on the grill
and poems, poured out
on the plate.
We drink from experience,
nourished
with the knowledge
that our next piece of text —
elusive as anything , yet
lingering on the tip
of the tongue —
may be in the batter,
on the grill,
about to get flipped
onto our plate.
If there’s a more practical daily meditation than the preparation of breakfast,
Then I don’t know
what that might be.
And of all the breakfasts you might prepare,
The pancake is a celebration of perfection through moderation.
Some flour.
(But not too much.)
Enough water.
(But don’t let things get runny.)
Stir.
(Stop before you think you should.)
A kiss of baking powder. A dash of buttermilk.
We are off to the races.
(Slow bubbling lumps are good and make for greatness.)
The right griddle
(Not too cold, not too hot)
Is a most forgiving place.
Where a blob of batter
(Don’t fuss with it. Just let it brown.)
Can become an orb of awesome.
A single flip.
(Stop fussing so much.)
A little syrup.
(Maybe just a little touch more.)
A few little drips.
You can’t refrain from everything.
The writer’s morning
begins
not with food
but with words,
stories on the grill
and poems, poured out
on the plate.
We drink from experience,
nourished
with the knowledge
that our next piece of text —
elusive as anything , yet
lingering on the tip
of the tongue —
may be in the batter,
on the grill,
about to get flipped
onto our plate.
— Kevin
Kevin Hodgson´s last blog post ..Upon Reflection, Part Two: Creating a Virtual Gallery of Digital Art
Fantastic, Kevin!
Thx
Are you writing?
Kevin
Kevin Hodgson´s last blog post ..Slice of Life: Stories on the Wall
Flipping Brilliant
If there’s a more practical daily meditation than the preparation of breakfast,
Then I don’t know
what that might be.
And of all the breakfasts you might prepare,
The pancake is a celebration of perfection through moderation.
Some flour.
(But not too much.)
Enough water.
(But don’t let things get runny.)
Stir.
(Stop before you think you should.)
A kiss of baking powder. A dash of buttermilk.
We are off to the races.
(Slow bubbling lumps are good and make for greatness.)
The right griddle
(Not too cold, not too hot)
Is a most forgiving place.
Where a blob of batter
(Don’t fuss with it. Just let it brown.)
Can become an orb of awesome.
A single flip.
(Stop fussing so much.)
A little syrup.
(Maybe just a little touch more.)
A few little drips.
You can’t refrain from everything.
— Bud Hunt
April 10th, 2018
https://www.evernote.com/l/AAGmQ3PKdu5B47VU4MI2aC_C4wNCG93h6u4