Purple jasmine rice. What is Pjr's connection to the next poem to be written?

It's not usually held as fact but I believe poems anticipate their color and taste. Just as I sit anticipating the aroma of this special rice my body leans toward the black notebook. Seconds before, three fingers lift the fountain pen.
Inevitable is taste. And before than, inevitable is anticipation.

Rice and poems share in common several genes.

How is a meal for a special occasion like a poem of the same ilk?

Let's define "ilk." The ilk is occasion. The occasion of a remembrance, perhaps a birthday. Yes, two birthdays -- Susan Black and Liz Hack a few days apart as February moves into March. What astonishing artists, both.

Bring on bright vegetables; and ample the celebration. And grateful, the friendship.

Besides durian which foods are inedible; which poems impossible?

Because you asked -- pretzels are an impossible food for me. Even those stuffed with peanut butter, which friends in Walnut Creek fancy.
Now poems. Poems which are topical in subject and don't rise or slip deeply rarely beguile me.

Can you imagine what poem corned beef & cabbage will inspire?

No. Some questions are premature. This is one example.

More on this next month.

Afternoon tea. What sheen to the next poem?

White tea. Green is the sheen of the next poem -- at least the majority of lines. Spring is here; green competes with a host of radiant color.

Will the next poem rival the showy cardinal rhodies in the neighbor's yard? Like poems, flowers don't pay much attention to boundaries. Makes me thing of tea's relationship to water. Unfurling leaves of green and tinge of slight amber.

What synapses are there among a poem, blog, & meal?

Figure out what's for the next meal and the poem and the blog will follow.
Contemplating a new blog (once a week, perhaps) on awegallery.com.

Contemplating is a quiet way to do. At some point, a knife will be brought forth. A plate. Always the candle. Inevitable, the pen.

How do carrots predict a poem?

Go-to -- food and word.
Let it known: carrots are one of my go-to foods. In their own right & as a touch of color in a dish sorely in need of such. Right now, "grandmother" is my go-to -- word, voice, shorthand.

COMFORT FROM AN IMAGINARY GRANDMOTHER

saute' carrots in olive oil,
when brown & golden add walnuts, fresh rosemary, twist of pepper
to which can be added grated Parmesan cheese
if time & energy, toss with pasta

How do smoked salmon, cucumbers, and strawberries relate to poetry?

Meals and poetry are interwoven. To smoked salmon with a pepper crust add sliced cucumber, and, yes, sliced strawberries. The visual intrigues; taste surprises as the last line of a working poem does. A bit of startle. Perhaps, a bit of breath taken away/given back. In all, the perfect weight of an echo.

I think it's the added panache of strawberry. What do you reckon?

Chop chop. What is chop chop and how does it relate to poetry?

Chop chop are leftovers employed in the service of side-dishes of little savories. Bright colors in small dishes. A tablespoon or so at a time. Makes me think of blink poems and how a blank page invites them as if an inviting bowl.

Yesterday's chop chop is today's chop chop. Yesterday's poem is today's poem. Let's remember and honor the longevity (staying power) of leftovers whether it be in the form of food and/or alphabet.

For an example of chop chop, pls see blog post 2/14 -- Frittata. Thank you.

Company. How is company similar to a poetry submission?

Expectation. Time sensitive. In short, the deadline. You use what is on hand/at hand. You put experience to the test and say (perhaps, at least for the moment) it is finished. At least for now. So, let's sit down & taste what has been written. Based on these principles, wouldn't you say that company and poetry readings have much in common?

Leftovers. How do leftovers inspire one to write a poem?

Poetry has much in common with cooking. It's the making of. Those out-takes of a poem (aka leftovers) might well become a title or the last fitting line of a new poem. Leftovers are anything but left over. They are starter, they are culture (think yogurt) of a meal. We all know a poem is a meal. Right?

Frittata. How is a frittata akin to a poem?

Well, what kind of frittata? The simplest the best. Thus, two kinds of cheese, dried lemon thyme & pepper. So, you see such a frittata is equivalent to a just-begun poem. When you add a side dish of enhanced olives you're on your way to find an audience.

Minimalist Epic: One instance (bordering on an incantation) of enhanced olives to bring forth an audience

black pitted olives
picholine olives with pit (variety of varietals & pit/no pit all to the good)
tiny plum tomatoes
marinated garlic cloves
almonds, raw
extra fine olive oil

mix & serve with a previously-referenced frittata

made all the better if the cat is sitting across your arm as you type. purrs contribute positively to cooking & the writing experience (inseparable but that's for another discussion)

Wooden bowls. How do wooden bowls resemble a poem?

These specific small wooden bowls have just been oiled and are now waiting to "cure." Empty by design but full of promise. The equivalent in poetry is making sure the pen has ink and paper plenty.

Garlic bread. What kind of poems are inspired by this?

First, let's discuss this garlic bread. Friend Rich arrives with the bread from our favorite bakery. The garlic is soft, almost buttery with the unmistakably taste & smell of when slow roasted. Perfect with sharp cheese. Small dish of olives.

Perhaps, a poem will reveal itself later. Garlic & olives being personal catalysts for writing. Lemons, also.

Cooking for one is like writing for one, isn't it?

There is something sacred about preparing a simple, healthy, colorful meal for one with at least one unexpected ingredient.
Perhaps, it's true when one writes only for oneself (for the joy of it) that at least one audience appears.

Besides, look how similar a pen is to the knife.

Oysters. How do oysters resemble editing a poem?

For oysters it's in eating at least a dozen. One after another.
For a poem it's re-reading, re-reading until the taste, the texture combine in a palpably fresh way. That's the process of editing.

For me, this comparison is null and void with clams on the half-shell. Cooked, yes.