I love chocolate truffle cake
-yet I drive a knife
deep into its heart
till it bleeds brown
and mouths drool
to taste the latest version
the names spelt in sugar
do not always evoke
sweet memories
-mindlessly
I pierce creamy layers
in search of a sensation
on the tongue
ephemeral; yet desirable
I count the engagement
on social media posts
annual rituals
of remembrance
all those emojis
with folded hands and hearts
and wonder which version
of being is celebrated
or mourned
Obligations
bereft of meaning
executed with efficiency
again and again
calendars managed
with beeps and alarms
not to get left out
of the social game
Calendars do not know
the paper on which they lived
turned into an electronic image
Anniversaries do not know
the underlying spirit has
long since changed

Hi, Reenaβ£οΈ
Just wanna let you know that this week’s W3, hosted by our beloved Judy, is now live until Monday, Aug. 24:
Much love,
David
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Thanks!
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*hug!*
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Reena, the cake is a powerful symbol for how celebrations can lose their sweetness when we keep doing the ritual but forget the feeling behind it. β€
~David
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You are so right. I wish people forget the date for once, but everybody is keen on playing their perfect friend or relative role.
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π€
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Reena, this is an interesting take on the prompt – I hadn’t considered the digital calendar but you make some very good points! Now I have to consider what I’ve been doing online and see if I need to cut back!!!
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Good luck! π
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Thanks!
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Fantastic poem, Reena!
Yvette M Calleiro π
yvettemcalleiro.blogspot.com
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Thank you, Yvette!
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You have captured the modern dilemma perfectly. We optimize our calendars and automate our empathy with emojis, but the ‘underlying spirit’ often gets lost in the social game and the performance.
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Thanks, Josie! Glad it resonated.
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this is really great Reena π really enjoyed this poem! β€
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Thank you, Carol!
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Great Renna – a poignant, sensory way to show how real relationships get flattened into neat, superficial decorations π
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Yes, I guess flattened is the right word, since the dimensions are lost.
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π©·
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This poem touched something in me, Reena. Because it’s true we’re all just going through the motions with our calendars and beeps and hearts we add to social media.
But the real thing, the real presence? Gone. Your words about piercing layers looking for a sensation but finding emptiness instead… it’s honest in the most uncomfortable way. Thank you for that. π
Love & Hugs
Khadija ππ€
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So glad it resonated with you.
We are being measured by likes, comments, deletion of posts and removal battles in Whatsapp groups. It leads to a different anxiety about visibility. And the hollowness is greater than 10-minute appearances at cocktail parties with fake plastic smiles.
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Yes Reena, The metrics become proof of existence, donβt they? π And when they fail, it stings differently than any cocktail party rejection ever could. Because itβs public, quantified, visible to everyone. Thatβs a particular kind of loneliness. Youβve captured it perfectly.
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Very true Reena. I feel if we celebrate less and enjoy the occasion more- things will be more genuine.
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Bang on!
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ππΌππΌππΌ
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that last line made me consider how much time I actually “allocate” to the things and people that I love. Everything is scheduled, which is sad when I pause to think about it.
a beautiful poem, Reena.
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Good to know it started a thought process. Thank you, Nigel!
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You’re welcome, Reena.
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