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Other essays on this theme
Essay: "Dinner Time"by Charles Marques Don't call me late for dinnertime as friends and family gather round. A time to rejuvenate from the vigors of the outside world. A time to let our guards down and absorb the atmosphere of our kitchen safe haven. Dinnertime to spend an hour and a half with what should be our most precious treasure (family). The food and drink a sacrament to the collective soul of humanity. A bonding time over shared bread and salt fulfilling a basic yearning for interactive socialization. Mother in the kitchen cooking a wholesome meal. The smells of it all still make my mouth water all too real. Being a little boy again waiting for the dough to rise after Mom taught me about life and death through the symbolism of yeast as a catalyst of change. Which shapes the world and life as a play upon center stage. Hoping one day to afford my family these dinnertime golden opportunities to bond and explore what it all means. Dinnertime a quiet contemplation of life's events. Slowly melting an iced over heart after being heaven sent. We realize its not only which fork, knife or spoon; we learn to use manners as a way to show respect to ourselves and others. Dinnertime to turn off the television and talk to those we love. Turn off the television and talk to those we love. Though what we ought to do most is listen to their opinions. Simply paying attention and taking interest is a gift more precious than gold. It's one that can be shared between young and old. (Even the not so old though they still wear crow's feet!) Dinnertime for a seduction of that special someone. Lavishing lit candles, incense, finger foods, the intimacy of closeness and privacy, or maybe a walk through a darkened park to a secluded spot, lit only by the moon finding a picnic spread beneath an oak tree, triumphing in the reaction of heartfelt glee, perhaps this is the one to make a home with soon.
Dinnertime was easy to take for granted, all those years I prowled the streets plying my trade to appease my greed. Then came myself destruction. As I reaped all I had sown and found new lows dinnertime became intravenously administered at regular intervals all alone with no home. Dinnertime for the next four years left on this time is spent in a cramped room full of strangers. The dirty floors, walls trays, cup and spoons of this industrialized cafeteria are the norm constantly looking for the surprise left in your food is the wise thing to do. Even the rats aren't scared they sit and stare at you! You must be on guard against the next crash dummy (in gray or white) trying to pull something funny. If the situation turns foul the guards season the food with pepper gas launched through the window as they should "trip out, law down, hands behind your back" and zip tied your escorted to your five by ten cell for a progressive release disciplinary lock down bottomless well. Maybe three days or thirty regardless its easy money for them and this in no hurry. There is another dinnertime choice "sleep late lose weight". Now I am feeling foolish as this is a slow hell of my choosing. The last riot was behind someone cutting in line on "pizza" day. Someone please teach these "men" to play nicely. My greatest challenge now is to find a way to remain positive when dinner time is twenty minutes long and it takes at least fifteen to get through the line. Now the guards are screaming "time, pick em' up leave and don't even think about conversation while you eat!! Forced to live, cheat and sneak to get an extra tray cause what they feed only keeps hunger at a short bay. Finally snapping ready to fight about scraps the lion escapes ending all chance for parole cause this guard wanted to see how far he could go. Dinnertime prayers for a better way to live after seeing for myself all that life has to give. Experiencing love and peace finding pain and hate committing crimes. What more can I say except I will leave the negative behind. |