Tweetspeak Poetry

Milk and Butter Poetry Prompt: Life With Milk

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milk-poetry-promptIn many cultural traditions, milk is a powerful symbol. It represents fertility, abundance, and eternal life. It was considered the food of the gods. It flowed freely in Canaan, the promised land. It is the first human diet and is deeply connected with life itself.

Many of us have warm memories associated with milk. An example is a poem by Scottish poet, Donny O’Rourke titled Milk:

Your custom often
when the house was still

to brew milky coffee
and reminisce.

Child care experts would have frowned
on my late hours,

The bitter adult drinks
and frothy confidences.

yet your stories stopped my mewling
and continued as I grew

me tending the fire,
you talking of Ireland.

more real to your first born
than the younger ones who slept.

Those nightcaps, Mother,
were our hushed bond.

And though, for twenty years now,
I’ve drunk my coffee black,

I’m not weaned yet
of that rich, warm milk.

Try It: Milk Poetry

Think of the place of milk in your life. Whether it was the importance of milk in your infancy, the miracle of ice cream, milk in your cereal, dunking cookies in milk, or pouring a glass for a dear child— write a poem about the simple goodness of milk or meaningful memories associated with it.

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Featured Poem

Thanks to everyone who participated in last week’s poetry prompt. Here is a poem on small kindnesses with a mathematical perspective from Monica we enjoyed:

Small Kindnesses

There are many kinds
and none are truly random,
a mathematician might say.
They’re all calculated, multi-variable
functions of the recipient. Small,
even infinitesimal acts, when we integrate
over the interval from zero
to infinity, give us the whole,
filling in the area under the curve.

—by Monica Sharman

Photo by Anders Ruff, Creative Commons via Flickr.

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How to Write a Poem 283 high How to Write a Poem uses images like the buzz, the switch, the wave—from the Billy Collins poem “Introduction to Poetry”—to guide writers into new ways of writing poems. Excellent teaching tool. Anthology and prompts included.

“How to Write a Poem is a classroom must-have.”
—Callie Feyen, English Teacher, Maryland

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Heather Eure
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Comments

  1. Rick Maxson says

    Blue Berry

    How merely a cup of milk
    and the morning’s last blue berry,
    rising slick,
    with wisps of white rolling
    over its sides,
    lost in a dark thrown bowl
    made firm by fire,
    for a moment holds us all in its form.

    The world conspires to make more
    of itself with its spark and sap.

    Reply

  2. Robbie Pruitt says

    Crave

    A land
    Flowing
    With life
    Sweet and golden
    Glowing
    A nurturing nectar
    Milky sweet
    Life flows from the land
    From the fountain
    Of His hand

    (C) Robbie Pruitt, November 21, 2016

    Reply

  3. Sandra Heska King says

    Recipe For Winter

    First take the cocoa,
    a teaspoon in a cup.
    No, two.
    Maybe a whole tablespoon.
    Add some sugar
    (not too much)
    and a splash of vanilla.
    Heat some milk.
    Make it steamy.
    Whisk some in the cup,
    then pour it all in.
    Toast some bread,
    not too dark,
    not too light.
    Slather it with butter,
    not too little.
    Slice it diagonal.
    Dip.
    Eat.
    Drink.
    Be warmed.

    Reply

    • Donna Falcone says

      Definitely not too little butter. I just learned that – from a barista, by the way. He said life is too short to skimp on the butter, or something like that. Anyway, he mounded so much butter on my bagel that I thought it was a scoop of cream cheese waiting to soften and spread. So yes… I love that line about butter. I guess it takes me home. 🙂

      Reply

      • Sandra Heska King says

        I wish I didn’t like butter so much…

        Have you ever put a hunk of butter on your oatmeal? My mom taught me that. And a glob on my soft-boiled eggs. I’ve tried to get away from that, but now I’m craving both.

        Reply

        • Bethany says

          My (step)dad introduced me to butter in the oatmeal. 🙂 Fun to remember that. I like mine cooked without stirring, a dash of salt, a couple tablespoons of milk and a lump of brown sugar.

          Reply

        • Sandra Heska King says

          D had to have hernia surgery when he was a little guy. The staff was worried because they just couldn’t come up with something he’d like to eat. So his mom told them to make oatmeal because he loved oatmeal. But he still wouldn’t eat it. Reason being… they made it with water. Mom made it with milk. Therefore, we make it with milk. Definitely brown sugar. 🙂

          Reply

        • Rick Maxson says

          Oh, butter on oatmeal is delicious. Even better, I love a big pat of butter on a steaming bowl of Cream of Wheat, with just a few drops of real maple syrup and a little whole milk. Start eating from the edge of the bowl, watching the syrup and melted butter swim out, with just the right harmony, to meet your spoon.

          Reply

  4. Shelly Miller says

    Swallowing Sadness

    Every morning as I turn kale and blueberries upside down
    In a magic cup swimming of almond milk,
    my mind returns to a kitchen in Kansas
    where a supersized granite island holds
    an altar of remembrance
    for three friends now scattered by time.
    I ache to turn back the clock,
    add one more day on a string of five,
    but I sigh into the quiet instead.

    Reply

    • Bethany R. says

      Thank you for crafting and sharing this piece with the Tweetspeak community, Shelly. 🙂 Happy to meet you here.

      Your image, “an altar of remembrance” struck me, I could see the scene, and feel the longing.

      Reply

    • Megan Willome says

      I see you, Shelly. 🙂

      And I’m so glad you’re here. I also blend smoothies with almond milk on a daily basis (not breakfast but exercise recovery). And I’ve swallowed sadness with that smoothie more than once.

      I love the “upside down” and the “magic cup.” Also the idea of a “string of five” days.

      Since you’re across the pond, I’ll quote Notting Hill at you: “Oh, well done!”

      Reply

      • Shelly Miller says

        This is a big day Megan! The first time I’ve ever written or shared a poem. Thanks to your lovely book and Sandra’s exquisite poem that slipped through my inbox for inspiration. It just came flooding out. Thanks for your encouragement. That first time is scary.

        Reply

    • Sandra Heska King says

      So you already know I love this. And now I’m wishing I hadn’t packed my NutriBullet.

      I, too, like the super-sized granite island and the altar of remembrance. I’m also noting the “k” alliteration… kale, kitchen, Kansas, clock, quiet. I’m stringing happy sighs. I wish I knew how to post a Snoopy spin here.

      Reply

    • Donna Falcone says

      Swallowing sadness… oh, I love the way you titled this beautiful poem – I’m so glad you decided to be brave! Thank you for sharing your beautiful words. This feeling … I know it, too. Swallowing sadness…

      Thank you. I hope to see you here again, Shelly.

      Reply

  6. Katie says

    Oh, goodness gracious – poetry is so cool.
    I have again enjoyed each offering and been inspired to put brain in gear and finger tips to keys!
    As I often do, I went to my good old friend Webster for some help and here is what I found (hope transcribing from the dictionary isn’t considered plagiarism)
    milk-and-water
    milk leg
    milk maid
    milk man
    milk of human kindness
    milk of magnesia
    milk shed
    milk snake
    milk sop
    milk sugar
    milk tooth
    milk weed

    (not to mention –
    milk
    milky
    Milky Way)

    Well, it that’s not enough to send me googling, wikiing, etc. for the better part of an afternoon, I don’t know what is!

    Before looking these up I must admit that I only knew less-than-half of these terms before reading them today!

    When I surface maybe I will have a milk poem:)

    Cheers!

    Reply

  7. Linda Kozel says

    Milk and Butter Poetry Prompt

    Milk

    I remember visiting
    My cousins dairy farm
    For two weeks during a
    Couple of summers.

    The picture I have in my
    Memory is of a little white
    Pantry room where my
    Aunt kept big jars of fresh

    Raw milk. It had a sweet
    Smell. I didn’t like it. It
    Was warm and did not
    Taste like milk I was used to.

    It gave me a tummy ache, and
    Worse. I dreaded breakfast
    With milk on the dairy farm,
    But I loved being in the barn

    With the cows. I liked the smell
    And sound of the animals and
    The hay, the pink noses of calves
    But not the mushy cow pies.

    December 7, 2016
    Linda Kozel

    Reply

  8. Katie says

    Okay, want to share two milk poems I wrote (thinking they could use some tweaking, but nothing ventured, nothing gained!)

    Half-Pint Carton

    A dime, quadruple-wrapped
    in the bottom of my brown paper bag
    underneath the cheese/bologna sandwich and chips,
    next to my piece of fruit.

    A Mommy’s lunch-time provision
    for a hungry school girl.

    I unwrap the shiny coin
    and hand it to the milk lady.

    When I reach my seat
    I unpack my bag
    Carefully laying each item
    on the four corners of the unfolded napkin.

    Sandwich, chips, fruit, milk carton.

    I push back half the top edge of the little box,
    then pinch and pull forward to open.

    Then bite, sip – repeat.
    No more hungry school girl.

    Reply

  9. Katie says

    Half-Pint Anticipation

    As we progress
    single-file
    some slide trays
    and point.

    I hold my
    brown bag tightly,
    top folded down
    over and over.

    Until we reach
    the day-in-day-out
    same-old-same-old
    little boxes.

    Yes, a-g-a-i-n –
    milk, w-h-a-t e-l-s-e?
    White as always . . .??
    -u-n-l-e-s-s, it’s chocolate day!!!

    Reply

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