Today I Was Eating A Beetroot Salad Poem by Liza Sud

Today I Was Eating A Beetroot Salad

Rating: 5.0

Today I was eating a beetroot salad
with your sperm.
You had such a great desire
that just poured it on.

And I was eating eagerly
at a breakfast morn.
It was as am angelic miracle
as if I returned

to the earth, from the air weightlessness
to the shades of tastes,
all my former life - for so many-many years
was already blessed.

And you stood behind, weightless and transparent -
I didn't see your face.
But I felt you as cloud of many thoughts
with your airy pace.

All experience was inreal.
All was pure fantasy.
I rememberd my earthly life so clearly:
oil, potatos, mayonnaise.

You were kissing me on my left cheek, right cheek.
and your strong embrace
was so full of trust as my own mind's game
and my own Grace.

I was feeding with this tasty beetroot salad
your small son in me.
And the part of you has dissolved in my blood
coming right to him.

Why they say that incest is sinful
in its open form.
Almost every son in mom's gut has eaten
his own father's sperm.

Was it a revenge to the small from my side?
we are all combined.
all the earthly elements and the flows of our mind -
all belong to One,

with Whom we all are to blend, coalesce once
as in vinegret *,
so eat any mix of earth-heaven's flavours
And do not regret!

*****

Сегодня я кушала винегрет
со спермой твоей.
Ты так сильно меня хотел,
что залил все ей.

И я ела ее с аппетитом
на завтрак с утра.
Это был как чудо ангелов,
как вернулась я

сюда с воздуха невесомости,
где лишь вкусов тень,
как вся жизнь моя, год за годом там
был благословен.

Позади стоял, невесом, прозрачен,
не видать лица.
но я чувствовала в твоем каждом шаге -
мыслей облака.

И весь опыт был нереален,
чистая мечта,
жизнь земную я вспоминала:
майонез, масла.

целовал мне правую, левую щечку,
сильно обнимал,
как игра ума - на доверьи полном -
благодать моя.

Я кормила этим салатом
сына твоего во мне,
Часть тебя, в крови моей растворяясь -
к нему притекла.

Почему говорят, что инцест греховен,
когда он открыт,
ест отца ведь сперму сквозь мам животик
почти каждый сын.

Месть ли это с моей стороны ребенку?
Мы едины все.
Элементы стихий - все в Едином Боге,
как наш круг идей.

С кем когда-то мы и должны смешаться,
словно винегрет.
Так что ешь смесь небесно-земных комбинаций,
и не пожалей!

Wednesday, August 3, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: salaam
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
vinegret - is a popular beetroot Russian salad, a combination of many vegetables.
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Daniel Brick 08 August 2016

There many miraculous things happening: the speaker describes herself as an ANGELIC MIRACLE recently returned to earth to earthly food, and there is a man in her presence who is more spirit than flesh. The two have a son growing in her womb. And man and woman are kissing fervently with his trust and her grace bonding them spiritually. But a more awesome wonder is then revealed: ALL THE EARTHLY ELEMENTS AND THE FLOWS OF THE MIND - ALL BELONG TO THE ONE... This puts a representative human family, its members already partly in a spirit context in the divine presence, but then you take one divine step further - THE ONE WITH WHOM WE ARE TO BLEND. This strikes me as your version of the Pauline concept of THE MYSTICAL BODY OF CHRIST. Your poem could be the FANTASY of a woman eating a salad and day-dreaming about her ultimate spiritual condition, or it could dramatize the real event, the entry of three people into the Life of Paradise after mortal life had been been completed and vanishes into nature while souls ascend to Heaven. What a triumphant pilgrimage expressed in your own poetic language.

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Unnikrishnan E S 03 August 2016

Hi Lisa, Loved reading. As you have always been, you are true to yourselves. The element of sensuality you added -and stopped without saying it aloud- I loved. Nice.10+

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