that makes me think of home, mamma (your mamma actually), and it seems like something of a love yourself, love who you are statement, coming from here (we are this, we come from here), a gesture, a bit of symbolism. where else but the living room right? out of place- so perfectly suited. i reckon that's good-mum.
i think the introduction make bear some looking at. it works, but it's not as natural as the buddha thing, therefore it's a bit like mechanics, seams- wear your shirt inside out and it won't take a minute- but you will draw some comment.
so i'd say, maybe try some different approaches to just the start of it. actually, just the second line. shabby and comfortable.
in my home is keeper stuff, it's like the woman has a key. and that thought is lovely when paired with kin and paired with the shapes of those buddhas.
a few thoughts: i really love the homeliness of this piece and think it is quite striking in its simplicity. ive always love to read a piece that reflects a particular/common moment so beautifully. we must remember that life is consists mostly of these ordinary moments. its like when one breaks off a relationship. yes, the great moments are remember, but after long contemplation, its the unique everyday moments that become most tender.
"mama", to me brings this piece home. maybe its our Italian heritage, but we love our mamas. i also really adore the "kin Buddhas" . really sweet image and line. brings so much of a meditative quality to ur write. btw, my mother is obsessed with eggplant!!
I like where you're going, but just think you're not there yet.
shabby but comfortable is telling rather than showing, and this thing is all about the image, right? Eggplants as buddhas on the other hand, is a wonderful image. I disagree with the previous comment that in my home is grounding the eggplants enough. I don't even think the center of the living room is enough. Seems like they are floating somewhere. They need a table or a bowl or a floor - something.
You said kin Buddhas, and I'm thinking you meant twin Buddhas, but I could be wrong.
Oh, and your title is singular, but the image is in plural.
Italian titles are definitely a way to go. Meh. I hate titling stuff. It makes me feel silly. In a bad way. Like a precocious child. Or summat.
I like this one. I have no nitpickery.
In particular I'm digging mamma. And how that feels after shabby and confortable. Like a warm boot, or a hot stew, or pyjamas. And I love anything that makes me think of pyjamas (I am in fact wearing them right now).
I like that this is located while being dislocated- in your home, but we don't know where this is. I do like poems which have a place, there's a vibrancy in that, I think; but placeless poems are relateable in a way that other poems aren't. But you needed a little locating, to ground this, centre it, and that 'in my home' does that job for you.
I'm also digging the meditative quality here- it's quiet, understated even, but there's this idea of faith and warmth to be found. Softly.
The plump eggplants speak to me of fecundity, abundance-- and then moving into labelling them as buddhas echoes that, and makes that idea more solid. I also like how I feel that you've given these eggplants a significance-- something holy found in the centre of your home.
I like dailiness given this quality of importance, finding poetry in the little things, good or bad or whatever-- but noting them, and finding meaning there.
Have I mentioned Katharine Kilalea yet? She has a lot of quirk, and her metaphors are almost obscene in how simple and daily they are, yet how fitting. She's my best.