Sunday, 22 July 2018


The bantams are broody,
not a single egg laid
for at least the last month.
They hide in the hen house,
fretting and moody,
still in their silence
bar an occasional half-hearted,
a softest cluck-cluck. 
They long for the crow of a cock,
the warmth of the nest,
the gentle tap of the beak,
the cracking of shell,
the chirp of the chicks
as they welcome this world.

And she?
She is broody, her belly ballooning,
but this a mere phantom,
pregnant only with yearning, the want
the need of a tiny babe suckling,
grasping deep comfort in the warmth of her breasts. 
Oh how she longs for a life growing inside her,
if only, if only, if only.

This morning she rubs at her tummy,
fondles it strokes at it,
and yet knows it is naught but a dream,
for she has only ever been oh so desperately lonely,
she never having been kissed, never ever been loved
and never ever been laid
(Oh how she dreams of being laid,
safe in the arms of a man, she sure such a good man,
(she imagines the feel and the smell of him). 
Oh how she aches to be taken. 
Oh how she wants to be wanted.)

She hears the kettle click-off,
makes up a cup of  instant black coffee,
sees the bacon near-ready, (mmmm (licks her lips))
cracks an egg on the pan side,
lets it drop in
and watches it solidify in the sizzling hot fat.

Anna :o]

Inspired by the bantams – the bantams are broody.  They are not my little clucking friends, rather that of my son and daughter-in-law.

Just finished a few days stint of looking after my wonderful grandsons – loved it, but I’m now worn out!

Shared with the good folk at Poets United, hosted by Mary – cheers Mary!

Image:  Courtesy of  Wikimedia Commons
Author:  Jon Sullivan


Old Egg said...

What a beautiful inventive poem that so many of us can realate too (whether wife or husband) as your plans don't necessarily keep to your schedule. With my own daughter's hens being broody at the moment this doubled my enjoyment of the piece!

Jae Rose said...

great write!

Mary said...

Ah, I can feel the yearning in this piece. I hope it comes to pass & that the love is passed on.

Vivian Zems said...

Funny how the cracking of an egg can evoke such vivid illusions.
The yearning is quite powerful. Love it!

Anmol (HA) said...

Ah, the longing for desire and its realization is so beautifully brought about in this moody verse. How the broodiness of the bantams finds its resurgence in such a vivid display of the need of intimacy!

gillena cox said...

Luv the wit. And a cleverly written brood.
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Sherry Blue Sky said...

Broody bantams, and broody woman....i remember, a century ago, dreaming those dreams.......they came true and turns out it wasnt a hollywood movie, it was real life. Lol.

Magaly Guerrero said...

This one makes me think deep thoughts... about what might go on in the speaker's mind. The longing for life filling her womb is almost devastating to read--the way she imagines the babe, the way her hands touch her stomach, how she sees her yearning in the chickens and their eggs... Before I finished reading the poem, I worried about her. I kept wondering, are the eggs going to make her sick? Will her longing make her feel like she's eating the chicken's babe? Then, I realized that I probably had to step back... switch metaphors... Perhaps, the speaker is trying to remind us that although we can't get all we want all the time (not even half the time), at least we an enjoy a good taste of life (or breakfast) every now and again. So... yum, yum.

Sanaa Rizvi said...

It's incredible how cracking of an egg can bring about such vivid illusions.The longing is quite potent!

Rommy said...

Elanor Rigby by the Beatles came to mind as I was finishing this peace. There's so much sadness woven into the wordplay.

annell said...

A delightful write about the chicks, and yet it turns to the lonely one, who rubs her tummy and wishes to be loved! A very imaginative write!

colleen Looseleafnotes said...

The morning eggs and bacon are at least some consolation. A line from a poem I wrote called Broody: She stubbornly sits like a contemplating poet / like a Buddha denouncing possessions...

Wendy Bourke said...

Awesome cadence and wordplay in an enthralling, brilliantly crafted, piece that pops and pulses with unrequited yearning. Great job on this!

Thotpurge said...

When you're consumed by something..everything reminds you of it...even the simple act of making the flow of the poem, was like stepping inside the narrator's mind.

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Touchingly told. A phantom pregnancy would be a sad thing indeed. I think you have imagined and written it with great sensitivity, moving on from the broody bantams. In both scenes, a lovely, truthful domesticity.

Susan said...

Wow! Never have I seen human woman and Bantam hen compared to greater effect. I think that if the human were aware of the yearning she shared with the hen, she'd be an instant vegetarian!

Sarah Russell said...

Ah, the want of what we don’t have. Always a yearning.

Magical Mystical Teacher said...

Is there anything worse than a deep longing unfulfilled?

dsnake1 said...

the juxtaposition of the bantam hens and the female human is a lovely stroke. loved the witty wordplay too. :)

Margaret said...

very well written... the longing is so moving. By the way, we had chickens growing up and I was so afraid of those broody hens - I was never able to brave putting my hand under their bodies to collect the eggs - they would peck my hand but when my mother reached under them they wouldn't. Perhaps they new better - but I didn't know chickens were that smart. My mom probably would have wooshed them off their nest.