In my family,
We have age old recipes.
Recipes from the beginning of thyme,
Rose water, vinegar and fine wines.
Not wine of the alcoholic kind,
Wine for the ego, soul and sullied mind.
We’ve garnished our ego’s for centuries,
Stove top boiling jealousy.
We’ve brothed our marrow for covetous greed,
Envious of others with gluttonous mead.
Stirred our emotions to anger and rage,
A dash of fire-belly, beast out of the cage.
Followed prescriptions, against our brethren,
Increase the stock, for more possessions.
Debate, prattle in pots of gossip,
When that’s not enough, backbite a dollop.
Yes we’re flesh eaters, barbaric heathens,
But we’re just another family, we’re humans.
In my family we also have remedies,
Cures for sick hearts and ancient maladies.
We love, and let it simmer in Turkish pots,
We sip tea together with drowning sugar blocks.
We apologise with chilli red eyes,
We wipe with woven hand towels our salty eyes.
We share our olives, down to the pit,
We spread with honey, lies, to make amends, with Arab wit.
We pour olive oil on wounds, and gargle with salt,
Clean filth with forgiveness, and find no fault.
We’ll spice with turmeric, curry or cumin,
Cure cancer, mend abscesses,
Add any ingredient,
Because like you,
We’re just humans.