Some Poems You Should Read By Rozanne Stark

These were written by Rozanne Stark along with recipes in a cookbook called The Supper Club. I really liked them and you should read them too!!! (By the way, her blog is The White Buffalo Bonanza) Enjoy!

Poems in The Supper Club Include:

"Something on Marriage"
"Apricot Pits and Bitter Almonds"
"Home Garden"
"Home Sweet Home"
"Woman Shopper"
"Paper Dolls and plastic Beads"
"Afternoon Practice"
"Dawn"
"A Day with My Three Dogs"
"Is this a Poem?"
"Blindness"
"Dia de los Muertos"

Something on Marriage

A woman should stay married
because of the second car discount
on her insurance premium,
health insurance, and his socks to wear.
She won't need an electric blanket.
She can go to a restaurant
and not feel like a pick-up.
He can tell the neighbors to be quiet,
fill her prescriptions, and fix supper
when she has the flu.
A woman should marry young
and never divorce or else
she'll have to pay her own rent.
A woman needs someone to take care of her.
Love is one thing, but marriage
is something altogether different.

From my cookbook, The Supper Club,© 1985, Rozanne.

Apricot Pits and Bitter Almonds

She stared at me when she rang the pecans
for $2.99 a pound. She mumbled the price
of apple cider. Then she stared at me
when she rang the pineapple, coconut and raisins.
Finally she said in a clear voice,
"Don't they have any bags for the spinach."
She got her fingers muddy.
"Anyone else, anyone else," she said.
"Excuse me, mam, I forgot the tea in my basket.
"I'm sorry, you have to ring second ticket."
But really my trip to the farmer's market
was a useless remedy to my coffee addiction.
Like apricot pits and bitter almonds,
useless remedy for cancer, cyanide in the blood.
I stopped for coffee on the way home.

From my cookbook, The Supper Club,© 1985, Rozanne.

This one is for desserts. I wrote it at a time I was trying to give up coffee

Home Garden

I bought packages of seeds for a garden
I've always wanted an asparagus garden.
When I was a child asparagus grew wild
on the hill across the street.
Early every morning I picked sprouts.
The package says it's worth the effort
and waiting three years for a crop.
But then the bed is permanent
with a crop for twenty years.
I spaded and pulverized the soil.
We'd plant a garden on Mother's Day.
Broccoli, squash and muskmelon,
cucumbers, cauliflower and asparagus.
Sunflowers, zinnias, and marigolds.
We'd make a garden this year.
The children would have asparagus in adulthood,
like the pecan tree
my daddy planted when I was a child.
I waited till noon. Plans changed.
The children' won't be coming home
for Mother's Day. In my hands
I hold twelve packages of seeds.


From my cookbook, The Supper Club,© 1985, Rozanne.

This one was for sauces, vegetables, soup, and sandwiches

Home Sweet Home

"Home is best" I embroidered
on a tea towel when I was sixteen,
a young woman at the stove
and a cat nearby, a teenage girl's
dream of happiness in cross stitch.
With every stitch I dreamed
of the man I would marry,
the children I would raise,
the home I would have.
In those days a girl had a hope chest.
So I made tea towels and pillow cases
and samplers. All the women
of my family embroidered.
"Life had not reward nobler than friendship."
"Today is the first day of the rest of your life."
"Thank you for the world so sweet,
thank you for the food we eat."
"Home is best," stained spotted towel.
It's twenty years later and
I'm divorced. I'm a temporary typist.


From my cookbook, The Supper Club,© 1985, Rozanne.

This is the one for breads

Woman Shopper

She'd been shopping today,
seven shopping bags full of cans
and all her belongings.
She sat huddled in a corner
her bas beside her
waiting for the bus I guess.
Why would she become a bag lady?

From my cookbook, The Supper Club,© 1985, Rozanne.

This one is for Salads

Paper Dolls and Plastic Beads

We are little girls forever
repeating the memories of the future
with our paper dolls and plastic beads
and yearnings to be grown up
and play house with real dishes,
a husband and babies.
One day it is real,
but we must remember
we are little girls forever
with memories of the future
plus a grocery list.

From my cookbook The Supper Club,© 1985,Rozanne

I'm finished putting the notebook together, but thought I'd type a few of my poems. This one was in the section titled "Letters to Children."

Afternoon Practice

I play Chopin's Revolutionary Etude
to the Batman theme song on TV
while the egg timer ticks the minutes
till the clothes are ready for the rinse cycle
and I run down the stairs to turn the knob.
The washing machine timer is broken.
I tune out the TV
and the kids tune out the piano
and we both enjoy what we're doing
to the background hum of air conditioning
on this scorching hot July afternoon in Atlanta.
The bell rings before I finish the song.


From my cookbook The Supper Club,© 1985,Rozanne

These are from the cookbook I typed up for David when he was busy in plays in high school. Most of it I wrote while on this boring temporary job as a receptionist where I barely answered the phone

Dawn

Waking to daylight
and the reflection of the prism
on the bedroom door
I know I've made it one more day.

From my cookbook The Supper Club,© 1985,Rozanne

This is my favorite for breakfast, drinks and punch. I wrote it right after the Iranian hostages were released and they said how wonderful it was to see daylight.

A Day with My Three Dogs

Meals, several times a day.
Michelle joined us.
Forgot to watch for wagging tails.
All comfortable.
Meals, several times a day.
Tails wagging.
We are all comfortable.
Hoover comes from yard
When he hears clicker.
Tails wagging, very happy.
Hunter comes from other room
When he heard me
Working with Hoover.
Episode, quick growl at backdoor
Over who would go out.
Had just been so happy.
Very good at supper.
Wagging tails, motivated.
Michelle is getting grouchy at door.

Rozanne
02/03/04

(Footnote: Michelle is not me, it is her sheltie)

Is this a Poem? (After watching Andy Warhol)

I don’t understand this I don’t understand I understand this I don’t understand this I this I understand don’t I understand this I understand this I don’t I don’t this I don’t understand this this this I I understand don’t I I don’t this I don’t I understand I this I this this I don’t don’t don’t understand understand understand this understand I don’t I don’t I understand this I don’t don’t don’t understand I I I I I I I I I this I understand I understand I this I understand I don’t understand this I. Understand I this I don’t understand.
(lol)

Blindness

My eyes are getting bad,
though not too bad,
just sort of bad
in that I can't see
the small print on the bottle
to find out how much lotion to put on my arm.
I have to reach my neck like a giraffe
over the frozen food counter
to see if I'm buying flounder or orange roughy.
I can't decipher red print against purple flowers and green lily pads.
I thought it was my glasses.
Yes, it must be my glasses that I have this problem
or maybe the cataracts are getting worse.
I've always had trouble seeing
so that's a good thing.
You don't really know you are getting older
just because now you can't see as well.

Rozanne
05/06/07

Dia de los Muertos

For Michelle, my sheltie

The dead always leave something behind.
My mother left her fingernail in her bed.
My dad left unpaid traffic tickets in his car
My mother-in-law left an angel paperweight
In her otherwise empty house.
My father-in-law left a black butterfly
Who on occasion lingers at my backporch.
My dad left more, the West Texas sunset,
A sun that filled the entire sky as he departed
And every now and then returns,
And my mother-in-law left me Michelle,
Now my Michelle, the sheltie
Who died today as I was bathing her
And she left some of her hair in the drain.
I found it there as I cleaned the tub
For a warm bath to relax and forget this day.
Her spot is empty where she slept
At the foot of my bed near the dresser
But her shrill bark pierces the silence
Of our All Saint’s Day vigil, disturbing me
And my two other dogs who sniff blankets
And bark at imaginary sounds
Now that Michelle is gone.
Mother, where are you when I need you?
Would you send me your prayers.

Rozanne
11/01/07