I slice the peppers
horizontally,
the way you like them.
Stuff them with turkey,
tomato sauce, rice,
and spices
(secret).
A little cheese on top,
then the oven—
375 for forty-five minutes.
No, this isn’t a recipe card.
I know you love stuffed peppers
and I can’t wait to—
Wait.
What’s this text?
Of course.
The timer chirps.
I pull them out.
I set one pepper
dead center on the plate,
wipe the sauce from the rim,
presentation still matters.
Steam curls up.
I eat standing at the counter.
The other plate stays clean.
-
Author:
Megan Blaney (
Offline) - Published: December 15th, 2025 15:01
- Category: Sad
- Views: 26
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship, justARandomJulia
Offline)
Comments6
Lovely culinary piece Megan!! Well done!
Thank you! I tried to get that he wasnt going to make it for supper, again. Did I get that across or is it too vague?
You got it across just wasn't sure why, late, death, divorce.
I am still working on it, i will try and make it more clear the reason
Culinary but more, why the clean plate? And for who? Well done
It is a work in progress, it is supposed to be a lover that doesnt come home. But I made it too vague I fear
It depends who reads it Megan. I have found that each piece has to be written for a certain audience. I saw right away that the clean plate meant that someone was not served but then my mind is always looking for more than face value, either in metaphor or clues. Some people read just for face value. I think that too obvious is an insult to the reader but then know that some will never get it. The best poems are the ones that I don't get until much latter after reading them.
Thank you. I think after reading comments I will let this stand on its own.
And I would agree
Good write M. I can't have anything too spicy with my tum-tum. lol.
Aw that is a bummer. I love spicy food
Oh, and I can't have figs either. Catch my drift?! lol. No figgy pudding for me this season. At least not ones made with real figs. I often why I felt woozy after them, in past years, and it wasn't because of any alcohol added to them.
Your poem "Stuffed Peppers" explores themes of love, nostalgia, and the act of cooking as an expression of care and remembrance. It reflects on the bittersweet nature of preparing a beloved dish for someone who is no longer present, highlighting the emotional connection between food and personal memories.
Aw thank you so much!
Fantastic poem! I know you say in the comments that you intended this to be about a lover who often does not make it home for supper, but I first read it as about mourning. Either way, it is great.
Thank you! That is the beauty of a poem, I think. Perhaps I will leave it open to interpretation.
There is certainly something to be said about poems that leave their meaning up to interpretation.
Complete unto itself. defines/sketches your situation perfectly. Although I'm very literal, no more detail is needed in this well balanced piece.
Thank you! I appreciate that
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.