Quorn Karma Korma

 That’s actually a great accidental poem-title 😂—it sounds like a fusion of comfort food and cosmic justice.

Here’s a playful take on “Quorn Karma Korma”:

In the pan of cause and consequence

I stir a gentle flame—

no flesh, no harm, just Quorn

and memory to season the same.

A spoon of past intention,

a pinch of what I meant—

it simmers into korma,

rich with what was sent.

The sauce is thick with echoes,

sweet, forgiving, warm—

for even karma softens

when compassion is the norm.

And so I eat my lessons

with rice and quiet grace—

a kinder dish returning

from each and every place.

If you want, I can turn this into a serious poem, a recipe, or go even more absurd with the wordplay.