Durian Poem

I almost rarely check my old email account now, and when I do there are rarely any interesting emails, as they are all mostly junk emails. So it really came as a big surprise to me when I spotted an email with the subject title “Durian poem”. It was from a sender I don’t recognize, and of course, it landed in my junk mail.

I clicked on it. The sender had emailed me, expressing how she enjoyed my Durian poem, and how it drew her to keep reading.

When I started to seriously pursue writing back in 2004, I made myself an account on Writing.com. Suffice it to say, I was pretty active in hashing out poems and stories, though I did have trouble with fiction writing. After a while though, I backed off the site, and now, I no longer have an account there. The main reason I did so was because technically, your writing is considered published once you put it up there, and I was then seeking to be properly published.

When I read the email, I immediately thought of the site, because that was where I composed that poem and displayed it. I emailed the sender asking her where she read the poem, because my account is no longer there. After I hit the send button, I had the urge to google, and I got my answer.

It was only then that I recalled asking permission from the site’s owner on using one of the Durian photos to accompany my Durian poem on Writing.com. He had then read my poem, and asked if he could put it up on his website. Mystery solved. I wonder what other writings of mine I have forgotten about.

DURIAN

Cracks upon cracks, riches revealed,
Slivers of gold, treasures concealed,
Grasping fingers prying apart
Doors to rooms, now no longer hidden.

Every room is amply filled with
Golden riches on pure white pith.
Guards of green, prickly menacing,
Litter the field at every inch.

On beds of glossy shiny white,
Soft golden pillows greet your sight.
Nestled close, cradled with love,
Molding in to every curve.

Wafting aroma, strong and bold,
Releasing tales of young and old.
Pungent and putrid, revolting to some,
Yet delectably fragrant — how can that be?

A whiff chock-full of controversy,
Opinions riddled with fallacy.
Banned in places of fancy manners,
Lest it render people unconscious.

A golden treasure now in your hand,
Airy and soft, yet it feels so grand.
Moistness dissolving, lilting the senses.
Flavor so rich, it tastes so divine!

Buttery, custard-like, tastes like heaven,
Alluring appeal intricately woven.
Golden pillow releasing its magic,
Emanating warmth, inside and throughout.

Airiness filled with ultimate richness,
Subtlety bursts with utter creaminess.
Soft yellow flesh promising enchantment.
Leaving you sighing in sheer contentment.