Nation Of Health, Flying Fish And Chicken Wings Poem by Lovita Morang

Nation of health Flying fish and the chicken wings"

Mother made it, her old hand like food processor, wrinkled taste proved her bon vivant
As if the water glass is drinking to forget the woeful ballads of happy valley,
Taste with inviting necessities for existence, will the equal to resources will have fair shake
But her kitchen garden has the foodcycle, the relationship among organisms are orchestrated, a great deal to kill ordeal
come with me gulp the water and chew the grub
I grab the grub,
It's in the same garb of salt and supplies
Vittles and vitamins
It shines on my skin like the crystal Swarovski tuck on time's table
Watch the wrist wriggle out
To sustenance from deprivation
Home cooking and health and wellness for the Nation
What's the wellness status?
Go Google.....(India poorer than Nepal, Bangladesh in global health index
26-Feb-2019 · Spain has emerged world's healthiest nation, with highest life expectancy, United Nations data)
Till, I drink it is always since I was born in the year 1976
Crossing rivers mountains of states
Flying fish from rivers of Majuli are the fresh servings for the inhabitants and the winged guest.... white and Blue breasted kingfishers
Purple heron, Common merganser, Black headed gull
Great crested grebe, Red Crested pochard, Netta rufina
Common pochard Aythya ferina
Tufted duck Aythya fuligula
lapwing and adjutant stork's delicacy but my childhood fantasy's flight for these winged guest from neighboring countries Australia, Serbia and Mongolia....
I wait here, eating and the bread butter beans and bacon wilting (and the taste Mozzarella vs Caesar Saladand bell pepper....
Dive into the soup bowl without measuring the size. Force at gunpoint to leave fantasy out of deep thoughts. Let's try to talk passionately about ‘malnutrition in minds ' over a laden plate of canapés and glasses of free mocktail mocking at the waiting side plate
Platter full mothers will make it
Ration store and the ration card
Ration card is for identity
She is a beautiful, unlucky woman never won in her polity. She should be happy
I am lucky it's her bliss,
she is eating this fresh air on hilltop homeostasis

We could build a table on it, on top of mountain
Blues do climb
I remember all the food thousand times she cooked the scented kitchen, aroma therapy for air ducts in my nostrils and in my lungs.
Running away to other country, with running nose, scent of coriander leaves haven't left us
the fowl folk across the porch,
Chicken wings will make the pigs fly


When I eat I am too much like her—

the knife in one hand I cut off the fat things
Fatty belly it's her big waist

I have loved my belly dance, all my life
she hardly knows about belly dance
in the same way that all her life
she loved her apong(Drink Mising tribe drink herbal ricebeer) , dedicated to the act of making itself, hundred and one herbs in it she say is the secret(I failed in my life to understand this human cravings) they dance to it.
she stood at this stove of fire
and warmed her elixir with the care of the very drunkmen that I see lay on city streets mushrooming correctional homes, homes are nomore rooms for love anymore for them. Science failed to cure this sense organ.
But my plate is full with this sustenance
It is everything occuring
handed lifethis plate of
As I thought of the ration and the nation identity
With ministry of wellness, health as it's priority
-Lovita J R Morang