Bell Pepper

Something has drilled a tiny hole
right above the base of the bell pepper.

I try to picture what it must’ve been like
to inhabit that green cathedral space as it expanded
& its single cloud grew ponderous with seeds.

Imagine the light & the sliding shadows of leaves
shaped like enormous beetles.

Imagine an orange sunset, in the absence of a horizon,
starting from random spots
that slowly spread across the vegetable sky,
deepening week by week into fire-engine red.

There is no heart like this, so roomy, so full of sugar.
If it is a bell, it’s much too good at absorbing
every kind of blow — or else
its tone is too high-pitched
to be heard by anything larger than the head of pin.
__________

Written for the prompt #2 at Read Write Poem. The other responses (mostly food poems) are here.

About Dave Bonta

Dave Bonta (bio) crowd-sources his problems by following his gut, which he shares with one quadrillion of his closest microbial friends --- a tight-knit, symbiotic community comprising some 500 different species of bacteria, fungi, and protozoa.
This entry was posted in Food and Drink, Poems & poem-like things. Bookmark the permalink.

11 Responses to Bell Pepper

  1. ...deb says:

    Inventive and lovely. The idea that this fruit is a cathedral is fantastic. Nice ending, too.

  2. dale says:

    Wonderfully satisfying poem. “vegetable sky” brought immediately to my mind “vegetable love” — as in Marvell — “My vegetable love should grow / Vaster than empires, and more slow.” There’s more than just the verbal chime, there’s a deeper connection, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.

  3. rr says:

    MMmmmm. Edible in its loveliness.

  4. Great perspective. Glad to discover this space.

  5. Rachel says:

    Oh, I quite like this, Dave. Green cathedral space, ponderous with seeds, the orange sunset, no heart quite like this.

  6. jzr says:

    Great piece of writing!! Love the “vegetable sky!”

  7. David Harmon says:

    I like this! Worlds in a grain of… salad? ;-)

  8. miguel says:

    I always love your point of view, Dave. I’m not sure if this is a weevil or a fly larva or a caterpillar, but if you scrunch yourself down that small and look through their eyes, I wonder what you would see? I wonder what it would be like to be a louse, exploring the world’s last remaining forests?

  9. Dave says:

    Thanks, y’all! Sorry I’ve been so taciturn lately (but note the new “Blogging Without Obligation” button at the bottom of my sidebar).

    dale – I love Marvell, too.

    littlepurplecow – Welcome!

    Miguel – I wonder what it would be like to be a louse, exploring the world’s last remaining forests?
    There are definitely some “forests” I wouldn’t mind exploring in that manner… but I shan’t elaborate.

  10. leslee says:

    Nice. I love the view inside the green cathedral, and the growing sunset.

    I started the day reading Dick Jones’ market poem – aha! He’s on the list! I read his with breakfast and yours, appropriately enough, with a dinner of roasted veggies (pepper included), rice and sausage.

  11. Dave says:

    Cool! I’m think there might be a publishing niche there, at least for those of us in the habit of reading while eating. I know I would like to read not only more food poetry, but more food philosophy, too. To my knowledge, a good phenomenology of food preparation and consumption has yet to be written.