Reviewing a Pomegranate

We purchased it for mixing
with garlic and honey, a dressing
for grilled halloumi and sourdough toast.

Its orb glowed crimson,
the blade split smooth skin,
spilling the ruby jewels within,

and stained our fingers with fruity blood.
Its sticky flesh held heavenly food,
the luscious seeds tiny surprises

crushed between our incisors,
trickling juice upon the tongue,
a fecund fruit with a tartly sweet song.

Kim M. Russell, 24th April 2023

Day 24 and only a week to go until the end of NaPoWriMo 2023, and the optional) prompt is a challenge to write a poem in the form of a review of something that isn’t normally reviewed, for example, our mothers-in-law, the moon, or the year we were ten years old. I have taken an old poem and reworked it for this prompt. Also linked to dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night on 1st August 2024.

32 thoughts on “Reviewing a Pomegranate”

  7. Who wouldn’t be tempted by such verse succulence? What was the tale of Persephone? She wasn’t supposed to eat anything during her winter’s harrow with Hades – but she downed seven pomegranate seeds in her stay (one for every winter’s month, I suppose, and so after her mom Demeter freed her, she had to spend half the year down under with the ex. A tempting fruit indeed ,,,

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  9. Kim, you’re making me hungry. I’ve only eaten pre-packaged seeds but never bought a whole pomegranate before. Love the sensuality of the experience of your poem as you consume its “fruity blood.”

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  10. This is exquisitely drawn, Kim! Wow! I especially admire this part; “Its sticky flesh held heavenly food, the luscious seeds tiny surprises crushed between our incisors.” 🩷🩷

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  13. OMG, what a terrific food poem! I’m a foodie and have tons of recipes in my blog but haven’t really ventured there – but you have given me some lessons today, for sure. I can feel that tart crunch of the seed, and how well it must have complemented the halloumi. How was the dressing, and do you share the recipe?

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  15. Such an evocative pomegranate poem, Kim! Not sure if it was deliberate but the portrait here is finely balanced between decadence and indulgence: “ruby jewels, fruity blood, tartly sweet.”

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