ackeesoup

Science Fare

2011-06-03T03:35:00.000-07:00

By Giggles Anderson

Could one school dedicate
its Science Fair
to homemade items?

Starting from Scratch

2011-06-03T03:28:00.000-07:00

By Giggles Anderson

When American women traded
their personally fulfilling
positions as homemakers
for economically fulfilling
jobs in the workplace,
our culture lost its homemade pride.

We no longer
make foodstuffs
from scratch.

We used prepackaged mixes,
bottled condiments,
and meats already cut
into desired pieces.

Our teens do not know how
to sift flour,
separate or whip eggs,
wash & cut up a whole chicken
into its parts
before seasoning,

They don't pickle veggies,
can fruit for storage
or clean using the basics:
salt, baking soda, ammonia,
bleach, alcohol, etc.

The men should teach them.

Bath Waters

2011-06-03T03:09:00.000-07:00

By Giggles Anderson

The home moved from hospital-level
clean to spa-scented comfort.

The scents of bleach, pine
and ammonia were replaced with
aromatherapeutic scents like
lavender, eucalyptus, and citrus.

Rosemary brought Spearmint,
her baby, along for the ride.

Bath time is always nice.

Biscuits and Baskets

2011-06-02T21:11:00.000-07:00

By Giggles Anderson

The Market wants.
The Market gets.

Lettuce wraps.
Chicken wraps.

All sold with ad wraps
plastered onto vehicles
with a hair dryer.

Venture Capital

2011-06-02T20:42:00.000-07:00

By Giggles Anderson

A little
cross-cultural
training
would enhance
a child's perspective
of the world
in which
we all live.

Switch it up people!

The Return of the Egg Spoon

2011-05-15T11:51:00.001-07:00

The tornado destroyed
several poultry farms
and a bunch of hatcheries.

Thousands of chickens
crossed the road
to get to The Other Side.

All this had
little to no impact
on Alabama's poultry supply.

Concurrently,
organic eggs are
the new black.

Organic eggs have rolled onto
the dinner menu in their
orange and white splendor.

Fully plated.

Their pedigree justifies
the profit margin.

Midas would have been pleased.

1. Cook, Drain and Mash

2009-03-04T16:42:00.000-08:00

By Giggles Anderson

Another tasty meal,
gone without slaughter.
Remember when you speak,
One can not make good soup
with dirty water.

Go out
with pure heart,
and open mind,
gather up the friendliest ackee
you can find.

Come back after
your soul has been wrung
and wrought,
by a frantic stream
of your self-censored thoughts.

Bring your yellow friends,
to an angry boil.
Temper and torture,
with a stained,
less-stolen fork.

Mash their little heartbeats out.

2. Simmer Simmer

2009-03-03T13:48:00.000-08:00

By Giggles Anderson

Turn down the heat,
add the yellow-bellied slop back in.
Toss in red cubes of tomato,
few pimento balls,
a clove of garlic– Stick a pin:

To calm your inner child,
those demons how they play?
Choking your life organ
with piano wires
all day.

Stop!

Take a swig of London dry gin.

Don’t be a chicken
add a few pieces in.
Tasting cock
in this soup
is not a mortal sin.

A few pinches of flour,
so your soup won’t be thin.
Cut a dozen onions,
a good excuse to cry.

Roses? They’re useless, they eventually die.

3. Serve and Eat

2009-03-02T16:52:00.000-08:00

By Giggles Anderson

Tell the truth,
say how you feel.
As you stir the dutch pot,
Honor your Self
You are all you’ve got.

If your belly starts to move,
and holler in fright,
stir in heavy cream,
Taking holy comfort,
you’re doing alright.

Ackee Soup is ready to serve.

Get the ladle moving
keep your feelings in sight.
Never mind the salt,
uninvited tears will spice
each spoonful and bite.

4. Ear Ache & Belly Full

2009-03-01T16:56:00.000-08:00

By Giggles Anderson

Anecdotes from the host,
The scotch bonnet never bust.
The guests are entertained.
Selling tickets from here on in
is an absolute must.

Fresh ideas get tossed about.
Ginger beer or Guinness stout?
How about a thick slice of
Mommy’s cornmeal pudding?
Coffee service for eight.

Pat your belly down. For Dinner,
like a king’s Procession,
has come and passed by.
No spy or noblewoman was poisoned
by a mashed up ackee lie.

Another tasty meal,
gone without slaughter.
Remember when you speak,
One can not make good soup
with dirty water.

Aircake and Breezepie

2009-01-24T19:04:00.000-08:00

By Giggles Anderson

She made me look back on my lives,
and forward to living new ones.

Flying on spider strings
and Godless wings.

As always,
a man on my back.

Somewhere–
my Mother prays for me.

A new start approaches
from below.

I can smell life,
as death tickles my soul with air.

Suspended by little else but madness,
I dance with the rays of the sun.

Trapped by Freedom,
her wine tastes like aircake and breezepie.