Our prompt for today (optional, as always) takes its inspiration from Pablo Neruda, the Chilean-born poet and Nobel Prize Winner. While he is most famous in the English-speaking world for his collection Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair, he also wrote more than two hundred odes, and had a penchant for writing sometimes-long poems of appreciation for very common or mundane things. You can read English translations of “Ode to the Dictionary” at the bottom of this page, “Ode to My Socks” here, and “Ode to a Large Tuna in the Market” here.
Today, we’d like to challenge you to write your own ode celebrating an everyday object.
I pick: Kitchen Knife.
In the quiet hum of everyday life's refrain,
We find solace in the mundane's gentle reign,
A kitchen knife, once sharp and keen,
Now dulled by time, yet steadfast, serene.
Within my kitchen's heart, it resides,
A loyal companion, where memories abide.
Each day it dances, slicing with grace,
An unspoken artist in its sacred space.
But as the years weave their silent song,
Its edge, once sharp, starts to belong
To a realm of weariness, a journey trod,
Like a traveler weathered by time's façade.
Oh, kitchen knife, bearer of tales untold,
Your bluntness echoes life's stories, bold.
With every cut, a piece of edge lost,
A reflection of the paths we've crossed.
Your worn handle, a testament true,
To the hands that wield, the tasks they pursue.
Each scar on your blade, a narrative unfurled,
Of flavors savored, of a world twirled.
Let's raise a toast to this humble guide,
Nurturer of flavors, in you we confide.
Though your edge may wane, your spirit's song,
Like poetry, timeless, forever strong.
O kitchen knife, dulled yet bright,
A symbol of resilience in fading light,
Your bluntness mirrors life's refrain,
A reminder of strength amidst the mundane.
In your sheath, you rest, serene and still,
Awaiting the touch that ignites the thrill,
Of slicing through doubts, fears, and woe,
To find solace in the ebb and flow.
So here's to you, companion dear,
In your bluntness, life's echoes clear.
For in your dulled edge, we find our own,
A testament to how we've grown.
- Oizys.