The Souls of Tomato Folks
Poem by Sonia E Barrett (2021)
Tomatoes sat together
Content, fat, juicy
Full of their own seeds and
Skin perfected by the sun
Their support structures have grown with them
always just strong enough to let them hang together
So they were not tethered
nor hanging on
Those structures getting thicker and stronger
as they filled out
and gained their colour.
A collective from the start
We sense these different lifeforms
Humans who have organised their lives around moving
Forgetting to hang out and fatten
Forgetting their support structures
that don’t grow with them.
They are tethered
or hanging on.
Their bruises somehow not visible
Very bruised
Bleeding or squirting their seeds
Organising their lives around skin colour
which fails to change.
We drop and nourish the earth
sometimes humans are an alleyway to the soil first.
Our ethos and skin undigested.
Damaging Tomatoes.
Whichever way you damage me
My seeds will out
Capsuled in life-giving goblets
My seeds will be together
joined by
Smooth but persistent
barely visible bonds
When you pull me from my brothers and sisters
The memory of the vine is a scar or a crown
when I take some or none of the vine with me
You have to boil and slit my skin off of me
If not
My skin, my skin is so troublesome
Stuck in teeth at dinner parties
Curling and refusing
Disintegration
Digestion
Or if your kitchen is aspirational
(Maybe German), it’s equipped.
You can blend my skin off me
Homogenize me till I am utterly pulped
A thousand rotated cuts
That will do it.
The Wrong Soil
The tomato grows in England
And in the Caribbean
My grandmother’s London garden had scallion
Which grows there and here
All the other vegetables I love
Don’t root both places.
When I dug up the potatoes
It felt good
Then the feeling welled up in me
But what if it had been a yam tho?
I realised I was hoping for a yam
Which is manic
as I had seeded potatoes
watered potatoes
and heaped up the soil on potatoes
For months
Perhaps this is a second-generation Immigrant’s
mental harvest
My Grandmother’s complaint
retired back home that she cannot grow roses.
The shelves are bare
I need food not roses
It took a lockdown garden
For me to realise
And fully sense
I am in
the wrong soil
Doing the bidding of tomatoes (they/them)
I wait for them to be ready to descend
And when they do
I wait for them to intuit to me
E a t me
Then I do
I pay attention to their journey
All the while listening, attending
to where they want me to be
When I pass them on
When they reach that point
I make sure I am there.
Preserving tomatoes or
When tomatoes matter
Recline together under
A gentle constant reliable heat
For hours and hours
Together with companion plants
No agitation
Till all are fully
languidly
almost unrecognisably
relaxed
Then guide them carefully in groups
To a clean, uncontaminated, contained space
Add a decadent oil
Enough to enable free
and effortless movement
In the clean, uncontaminated, contained space.