Saturday, August 1, 2015

Summer Rerun #4 – Tickle Your Taste Buds with Guest Prompter Diane Lockward


Originally Posted Wednesday, August 4, 2010


Note: This week’s summer rerun is a guest prompt by Diane Lockward.
  
From Diane:

I’m often asked why I write poems about food. My interest, of course, goes back to childhood. I was a fussy eater whose father insisted that every plate be cleaned. I became adept at surreptitiously getting rid of food I found disgusting. While I had no appetite for vegetables, I had a big sweet tooth. But the foods I loved—cake, cookies, candy, ice cream sundaes—were prohibited by my father who wanted me slender. My cravings only increased. On the sly I consumed entire jars of Marshmallow Fluff.

At some level, perhaps, I'd begun equating food with risk, danger, punishment, deprivation, desire, hunger.

I went to Sunday school and met Eve and learned about the garden, the snake, and the apple. I must have filed all of that away for future use. Fruit, temptation, capitulation, expulsion, abandonment.

I saw the film, Tom Jones, and was mesmerized by that famous eating scene in which Tom and a buxom woman he meets at an inn sit at opposite ends of a long table and proceed to rip apart chicken legs and stuff their faces with juicy grapes, all the while gazing at each other with seduction in their eyes. Food and sex. Of course! 

So for me food has all kinds of connotations. I don't think I'm unique in that. Consider, too, how many of our social rituals are connected to food. Special dishes for special occasions. Romantic dinners. Repasts. And memories. Aren't there certain foods that call up memories, good or bad? And think of the sensory appeal of food; every part of the body is somehow involved. Finally, food intrigues me for its rich metaphorical potential. For example, in my poem, “The First Artichoke,” the artichoke becomes emblematic of a family with its many layers, its heart at the center, a heart that’s fragile. 

I'd like to add that while the title of my second book, What Feeds Us, invites the conclusion that I am a “food poet,” in fact, that collection contains only nine poems that are overtly about food, and each one of those nine is really about something else. Look at my poem, ”Linguini”—is it really about pasta?

Linguini

It was always linguini between us. 
Linguini with white sauce, or 
red sauce, sauce with basil snatched
from the garden, oregano rubbed between 
our palms, a single bay leaf adrift amidst 
plum tomatoes. Linguini with meatballs, 
sausage, a side of brascioli. Like lovers 
trying positions, we enjoyed it every way 
we could—artichokes, mushrooms, little 
neck clams, mussels, and calamari—linguini 
twining and braiding us each to each.
Linguini knew of the kisses, the smooches,
the molti baci. It was never spaghetti
between us, not cappellini, nor farfalle,
vermicelli, pappardelle, fettucini, perciatelli, 
or even tagliarini. Linguini we stabbed, pitched, 
and twirled on forks, spun round and round 
on silver spoons. Long, smooth, and always 
al dente. In dark trattorias, we broke crusty panera, 
toasted each other—La dolce vita!—and sipped 
Amarone, wrapped ourselves in linguini, 
briskly boiled, lightly oiled, salted, and lavished 
with sauce. Bellissimo, paradisio, belle gente!
Linguini witnessed our slurping, pulling, and 
sucking, our unraveling and raveling, chins 
glistening, napkins tucked like bibs in collars,
linguini stuck to lips, hips, and bellies, cheeks 
flecked with formaggio—parmesan, romano, 
and shaved pecorino—strands of linguini flung 
around our necks like two fine silk scarves.


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Saturday, July 25, 2015

Summer Rerun #3 – Journeys



Originally Posted July 31, 2010

It’s been said that we travel to lose ourselves, and that we travel to find ourselves. Proust wrote, “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.” What does “travel” mean to you in terms of wonder, discovery, and self-revelation? Has a journey in your life given you “new eyes?”

Write a poem in which you travel: the journey may be real, imagined, emotional, or spiritual. You may take an “overland trip” through description, attention to details, and sensory perceptions, or you may lead readers through your journey's surface terrain into the emotional, spiritual, or metaphorical landscape at its center.

Saturday, July 18, 2015

Summer Rerun #2 – Résumé Poem



Originally Posted July 24, 2010

Write a poem about your life (a poetic “résumé”) in which you really "go introspective" and dig deeply (define and clarify).

Following are some “prompt supports” that you can include in your “résumé” poem (maybe as stanza starters).

      Negotiated
      Considered
      Coordinated
      Managed
      Developed
      Established
      Acquired
      Educated
      Organized
      Prepared
      Planned
      Recognized
      Controlled
      Survive
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