On June 15th, for Tuesday Poetics--Exploring the realm of Minimalist Photography at dVerse, Sanaa Rizvi showcased Glenn A. Buttkus's site "South Sound Minimalist Photos," for this prompt, and adds that you can find his fabulous site by clicking on this link: SOUTH SOUND MINIMALIST PHOTOS Thanks, Sanaa Rizvi. Thanks, Glenn. She writes: For today's Poetics, I want you all to select one out of the twelve photographs shared above and write a poem. It can be an Ekphrastic poem, if you like. Go philosophical. Go dark or romantic or solemn. Share what you feel about Minimalist photography when you see it. The idea here is to provoke an emotion, and what better way to pour them out rather than poetry?
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- Green Tomato Plant: “Juicy tomatoes thrive in the Northwest, first as green goblins, then as love fruit.”
Tomatl, the Aztecs called it consumed with gusto in Mesoamerica as shrouded by myth, the Romans shun it their aristocrats stiffened from the deadly poison. But wasn't Cortez the rascal glutton who needed no trays on which to display them he showed those Romans the way to savor without pewter plates that leached lead from the apples
Seeing that picture of the tomato plant revived in me an emotion of disbelief as born in the land where tomatoes abound, I was allergic to the fruit. And how do you think my parents handled that do you think? They practiced tough love– and red-faced and swollen, though I was, they served me a tomato a day. Yes, they did! In time, my system changed, and thanks to my lucky star, I’m still here to tell you my story.
Good thing I love the fruit, for to this day, I reach for a tomato every chance I get.
And now another story.
You must know the story of the tomato’s fate in Europe, I’m sure. If you don’t, let me relay it to you the way I remember it.
In ancient Rome, the tomato got a bad rap, thought poisonous when some aristocrats became ill and died after eating them. But what the wealthy didn’t know is that their pewter plates, high in lead content, and the tomatoes, high in acidity, would cause the lovely fruit to leach lead from the pewter plate on which they sat. And this, in turn, was what led to deaths from lead poisoning– forever depriving them of the love apple.
Well, it remained that way for decades until finally, a chap named Cortez and other conquistadores helped the Romans make the connection. Thanks to them, the world is blessed with accepting the godly love apple at our tables. For where would we be today without tomato paste or sundried tomatoes on pizza. Amiright?
Main image: Image by Comfreak from Pixabay — Thanks.
Photo Prompt: South Sound Minimalist Photo, Glenn A. Buttkus. Thanks.
Thanks, dVerse team, for the prompt, and thank you for reading my story today. And as always, I wish you miracles.
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What a coincidence, I happened to use the same picture as an inspiration for my poem. It’s good to know that you grew out of the allergy. Wonderful poem and story. 🙂
Hey, Kitty. Thanks for visiting and commenting. Yes. I’m glad I grew out of that allergy. Your take on the photo was lovely. Give me a minute and I’ll comment there as well. Be well, sista!
You are welcome,Selma. Thank you for your compliments.Take care. 🙂
Oh my heart… Selma.. the poem in its entirety is like something out of scripture .. pure and evocative. I love that you shared your story with us. Being allergic couldn’t have had been easy for me .. but I am relieved to learn that with time your system changed. Sigh. I have type one rosacea, so after I experience incessant blushing for most part of my twenties .. at that time I had no idea.. but as I turned 30.. the symptoms became worse! I developed food allergies. But thankfully.. with proper treatment and care .. now after five years 🙂 I am better. Even though I can’t eat one or two items I really love .. I am glad that my skin is under control.
Thank you so much for writing to the prompt! 💝💝
You’re sweet for thinking that about this poem. But I love it that you saw it as such. I’m encouraged by your words.
Glad you’re getting better and that you’re taking care to do what you can.
Stay lovely. I wish you miracles.
for you* sorry typo
I love the historical references in your poem! I used the same picture as the reference for my poem as well, it’s so interesting to see the variety of thoughts that can emerge from the same thing.
I’m so glad you read and enjoyed the history in it.
Give me a moment— I’ll comment on yours later today as I love it so much.
Thanks for sharing it here. You rock.
I could exist on tomatoes …. decades ago thru four pregnancies during hot summers, I did!!! Your poem and the pizza image make me hungry. Cheers.
Tomatoes! Yes. Anyway you serve them, they are delightful.
My mother used to peel the skin of the cherry tomatoes and freeze. Then we’d eat as popsicles. Haha. Healthy treats.
Thanks for reading and commenting, Helen. Be well. I wish you miracles.
Tomatoes took some time to be trusted… but today the romans seem to have changed their mind.
Thanks for the comment after reading. You bless me. I bless you right back.
Magnificent take on my image. I did not know much about the historical references. My wife only grows tomatoes in her garden, gobbling them all late summer and early fall. Thanks.
Thanks for reading it Glenn and glad I could offer some value too. Your lovely photo is what brought that about. Thanks so much.
Ah, the history behind the mystery! For me, it was strictly taste and texture when I was a child. Just couldn’t handle the snotty, seedy insides. So, unless it was sauce, soup, or ketchup, I passed. Didn’t even like it juiced. Of course, I will only eat a tomato if all the seedy stuff is missing. Oh and let’s not forget the “stewed tomato” still and always has been a big YUCK for me. But I am certain the tomatoes take no offense. 🙂
I’m sure they take no offense. We know what we like and why and what we don’t. Taste and texture rule!
Earth is bountiful — we can choose and pick.
Thanks for reading, dear Annette— when you mentioned Rome, I remembered writing that.
I bless you. Xoxo