Stars, or: Cyanide

Memories free in verse

I remember entire apples
consumed, only stems remained
to be thrown away
I remember wet crunching sounds
even as I was still cutting 
mine
into slices

I spread thick peanut butter, too
much of, it on apples, as he
did, but his used 
to be spread upon the skin; then
all over the fleshy insides, as he made
his way to the center, intent
upon devouring his every
apple's fruitless existence

I suppose he, he,
he never ate enough
apple pips to actually poison
himself, though Agatha Christie
had planted this thought in my 
impressionable
young mind; when
I mentioned 
cyanide to him, he 
laughed

I still like to spread chunky peanut
butter on glistening smooth green skinned 
crescents, but sometimes 
I cut entire apples
in half 
not from top to bottom, but 
across their rounded 
stomachs instead - to see 
their 
stars before 
I throw them 

away

A d’Verse poetics prompt:

‘How to Cut a Pomegranate’

Today’s challenge at d’Verse is to think of a fruit, how it looks before and after it has been cut open, and how it tastes. Think about where and how it grows, and what it makes you think of. You may choose to write a poem in the style of Imtiaz Dharker, or you can explore the fruit in another way and in any form you wish. Whichever you choose, your poem should appeal to the senses.

79 thoughts on “Stars, or: Cyanide”

  1. Not a problem, I just wouldn’t want you to think I was being rude and I don’t think I made it ver clear. Apologies all mine💙🦋

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