“Writer's ResolutionEnough's Enough! No more shall IPursue the Muse and scorch the pieOr dream of Authoring a bookWhen I (unhappy soul) must cook;Or burn the steak while I wool-gather,And stir my spouse into a latherInvoking words like "Darn!" and suchAnd others that are worse (Oh, much!)Concerning culinary knackWhich I (HE says) completely lack.I'll keep my mind upon my work;I'll learn each boresome cooking quirk;This day shall mark a new leaf's turning...That smell! Oh Hell! The beans are burning!”
In Terry Ryan's humorous poem, the speaker expresses frustration with their inability to balance their passion for writing with the demands of everyday life, such as cooking. The speaker decides to put aside their dreams of writing and commit to improving their cooking skills. However, the poem humorously ends with the realization that even with the best intentions, they still manage to burn the beans. This poem highlights the struggle many creative individuals face when trying to juggle multiple responsibilities and the inevitable setbacks that come with trying to do it all.
In this humorous poem by Terry Ryan, the speaker expresses frustration with trying to balance their creative pursuits with everyday responsibilities. This struggle is still relevant today as many people find themselves juggling multiple roles and trying to find a balance between their passions and daily tasks. The poem serves as a reminder to prioritize and make time for all aspects of life, even if it means learning to improve in areas outside of one's comfort zone.
In this humorous poem by Terry Ryan, the speaker humorously laments their lack of cooking skills and the mishaps that come with attempting to focus on writing while also being responsible for meal preparation.
In this humorous poem, the speaker expresses frustration with their lack of culinary skills and the constant interruptions it causes in their writing. Reflect on the following questions after reading the poem:
“Mark my words, nothing smells worse than burned scorpion.”
“I learned to produce whether I wanted to or not. It would be easy to say oh, I have writer's block, oh, I have to wait for my muse. I don't. Chain that muse to your desk and get the job done.”
“Oh, most unhappy man,' he cried, 'try to be happy! You have red hair like your sister.'My red hair, like red flames, shall burn up the world,' said Gregory.”
“When I looked at my hands and wrists, marred by the marks of small burns from cook pots and flying embers, every red weal or white pucker brings to my mind's eye that eternal fire, and the writhing masses of the damned, among whom I must expect to spend eternity.”
“It is certainly true that cooking is therapeutic, creative and all those other faintly creepy self-helpish words. I would love to tell you that learning to cook was part of my journey toward actualization. I would love to tell Oprah this. I would love to tell Oprah this while weeping. But I learned to cook for a much simpler reason: in the abject hope that people would spend time with me if I put good things in their mouth. It is, in other words (like practically everything else I do), a function of my desperation for emotional connection and acclaim.”