Waste not, poet nor cook

As a poet, I have learned the value of words, the value of conciseness, of using only the best words to create a poem.  In poetry, all words carry weight.  The fatted adverbs, the slovenly adjectives and interjections are pared.  Verbs are hashed, blended, manipulated and hammered to give the poem rise.  The poet counts every syllable, listens for rhythm and threads of sound to weld the lines.  The poet is a fierce editor, slashing the underbrush, clearing the way for the reader to see the poem's true beauty.

I am a writer, I will not waste words.

THE STARLINGS

They lift in thousands,

a black wave rolling

up into the Iowa sky,

as if the dried husks

in the fields sighed,

 flocked murmur—

they scatter, collide

into rioted shadows,

seem to loll, linger

then split the blue

September, only to

weave and stitch,

ribbon the horizon

with crack-the-whip

tails flung higher,

then over and around,

rumor above our heads,

their hurried wings

like soft words—

God’s whisper.

We are a wasteful lot; wasting words, wasting time, wasting food (the biggest sin one can commit).  I began a new life plan in August, switching my diet to a mostly plant-based menu.  The concept is to eat clean, avoid the 'whites' (salt, sugar, flour and dairy).  I have eschewed processed foods for fresh fruits and vegetables.  

This 'diet' (and I'm loathe to use that word) can challenge the single person.  Fresh produce can go bad before you can eat it, and I'm not alone in admitting to tossing whole heads of lettuce that turned brown  after committing to 'eat more greens'.  

Not long ago, I overcooked brown rice, rendering it to a hardly-palatable mush.  I did my best to eat it with some sauteed veggies for a couple meals and regrettably threw out the remaining.  A friend later suggested I could have given it to the dogs.  Damn the waste.  Better yet, I'll refine my brown rice cooking skills, however, the dogs will always be considered part of my 'zero waste' policy.  A small garden plot next year will benefit from a compost heap and 'zero waste' should be my reality.

I'll write about wasting time in a future post.  Right now, I need to stare anxiously at my Facebook and see what my friends are eating, watching or not doing.