Baked to Memory (NaPoWriMo 3 of 30)


Alabama heat sweltering
The steady clack clack clack of peas hitting aluminum pans
Fly swatter in hand
Slippers patting carpeted floors
Glasses held in place by facial features as soap operas play on old TV screens
An undeniable smell drifting through the house
The sweetness of freshly shifted flour combined with milk, sugar, vanilla, butter, and other various ingredients
Smells like home
The other one
Away from concrete city slabs
Blocks filled with danger on every corner
Monsters always right within reach
Where everything smelt like trouble
Felt like danger
But tucked 1076 miles away was a safe space for parents to send young malleable minds
To be molded into something strong enough to withstand the pains of a brick city future
Where tea was sun brewed
Where the night actually had a sky
The sound of the ceiling fan whirling 90 degree heat
Kool-Aid pops in the freezer
Smells like I remember
Those lessons she fought so hard to teach
I fought so hard to forget
Wasn’t much interested in listening
She was too old, I was much too young
Generations makes differences
A woman grows old but she must always remain a lady
    Not every shut eye is sleeping
    I’ve been around the teacup and know where the handle is
    Anythang worth having is worth working hard to keep
But she never did say how hard
Or when the difference between fighting to keep and simply fighting began
What about saving for the future and how do you know when to walk away
What about those days when only tears will come or when friends turn out to be everything but who they said they were
So much to learn
Too little left to give
I remember
The smell of her teaching me how to live, love, grow, feel, believe, and achieve over homemade cakes and freshly rolled cobbler
I still cannot knead dough to the right consistency
Never took the time to observe the level cutting of it into dumplings
I seem to have taken way too much advantage of time
Reckoned the smell of German chocolate cakes would arrive every Christmas
The nutmeg of candied yams simmering across countless meals
Who knew that smells held goodbyes just as much as hello’s
Who knew on any given day a moment would be recalled and you would remember exactly what it smelt like

©Nykieria Chaney 2014

National Poetry Writing Month 2014

#NaPoWriMo #NaPoMo

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Baked to Memory (NaPoWriMo 3 of 30)

  1. Alabama heat sweltering
    The steady clack clack clack of peas hitting aluminum pans
    Fly swatter in hand
    Slippers patting carpeted floors
    Glasses held in place by facial features as soap operas play on old TV screens
    An undeniable smell drifting through the house
    The sweetness of freshly shifted flour combined with milk, sugar, vanilla, butter, and other various ingredients
    Smells like home […..]

    (Sigh). Smells like My grandmomma’s and granddaddy’s home. Until the day they passed away, their home was My home away from home. And She was indeed an incredible cook.

    Who knew that smells held goodbyes just as much as hello’s
    Who knew on any given day a moment would be recalled and you would remember exactly what it smelt like […]

    I did. Because she would always tell me so…lol.

    Nykieria, this time, you really messed with my heart.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s