Monday, May 30, 2011

Amuse. At some level does a poem amuse?

A sense? Memory? Does this take away from the serious?

Take, for instance, the toasted cheese sandwich w/tomato --- amuses and is deeply serious.

Dialect of light & dark. Perhaps, it's the poet who amuses.

Sunday, May 29, 2011

Spiritual. In some way, is each poem spiritual?

Depends upon your definition of spiritual. Of poetry. Of what feeds.


Saturday, May 28, 2011

Patience. Does a poem require patience?

From and for itself. Admirable is patience.

The ripe (whether language or food) requires (yes, patience) know-how, and luck. Inspiration doesn't grow corn or peaches or poems. Although a dollop of inspiration of the top of the other three, does no harm.

Friday, May 27, 2011

Stopwatch. Does every poem have a stopwatch as part of its internal anatomy?

The larger question being -- does language know when to stop and watch? Yes.

Fruit needs the harvester, the hungry mouth to say it's enough. Birds do nicely, too.

A tried-and-true recipe for poets at open mics.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Glimpse. What does poetry offer a glimpse into?

Into itself. Words are landscape & inquiry. Food, too.

Don't skimp on fresh vegetables (English peas and fava beans while you can), wildflowers, and questions.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Maybe. What's the connection between "maybe" & poetry?

Perhaps, what you hear is a poem? Perhaps, what you are hearing is not. Where is the song in the word? Ira Gershwin lyrics -- no maybes about that.

Each of us has a doubt, a maybe about a particular food. You learn plenty from a person's likes/dislikes when brought to the table.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Photorealism. Is poetry the matriarch of photorealism?

Does poetry offer a lens into photorealism? Crystal sharp image of mystery. Of awe. Now think of enjambment chiseling sound? Sound-realism?

I love razor-sharp photos of fruit & vegetables. Isn't easy capturing taste & sound in a single snap. I embrace snap peas. And you.

Monday, May 16, 2011

Habit. Is poetry a habit?

With a particular body part in mind? i.e. heart, lungs, legs, mind? The levering of elbow, stretch of fingers so as to write. Flexing of chords to vocalize.

Similarities with cooking abound. Dexterity of muscle prepares food. The flexing of lips, flicking of tongue -- taste, season, and taste again.

Both healthy ones: this habit of poetry; necessity of a good meal. Both shared.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Trajectory. What is the trajectory of a poem?

The reader's mind? A reader's heart? Both?

The curve of a poet's voice?

Can a poem be devoid of trajectory?

And of food? How a cook tosses a salad?

Perhaps it's direction of a question.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Halleluiah. Is there always a smidgeon of halleluiah in every poem?

Halleluiah being personal and not necessarily over-the-top. Perhaps more like awe.

Birthday cakes & gooey confections result in jubilant (almost auditory-messy) halleluiahs. A plate of roasted eggplant w/fresh basil, tomatoes, goat cheese, marinated olives, and roasted onions garners a savory (almost low-key) halleluiah. Customized-awe.

Friday, May 13, 2011

Snail. Is poetry a snail art?

Actually, I want to talk about the snail community I witness at the bus stop. At the garbage bin adjacent to the bus stop there are snails fully outside their shells seeking leaf. Also, on fennel plants. Is this what a line of poetry aspires (to). To seek and be fed.

To which, of course, references escargot. Guilty pleasures. Food out of shell.

(FYI: I'm not a fan of snail mail poetry submissions -- another topic.)

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Underpinnings. What are the underpinnings of a poem?

A human hand. Heart. And feet.
A particular palette and its expression.

About food? See above.
"Feet" are essential to do the marketing and to accommodate the distance between kitchen and table.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Dialect. Does a poem have its own dialect?

Of place, of mouth. Indeed, personal.

Why does one gravitate to mushrooms; while another scorns? In the roots, I guess.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Rehearse. Is editing a way to rehearse a poem?

Or did I mean redress? No matter; voice is a grand editor. As well as feet, walking.

Is reading recipes/looking at culinary photos a way to rehearse a meal? Moving onto little taster plates; writing one line a day.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Commotion. Why does poetry cause commotion?

Once common as a right hand, the oral tradition. Not something special or artsy. Now, probably difficult to understand. Will there be a test?

Julia Child demystified French cooking (for some). Lots of eggs and cream and cheese and good bread put to yummy, common sense use. Taste, not waste. Poetry mirrors that.

Monday, May 2, 2011

Comma. Are poems without a single comma bereft?

Bereft of what? A tad longer pause; slight contribution to silence?
Is punctuation a gestural roadmap to reading?

What is the equivalent to a comma in cooking? The pause before and after a slurp of oyster? Or soup?