soup of the day: bookspeak by laura purdie salas and josée bisaillon

October 25, 2011September 18, 2017 ~ jama ~ 55 Comments

Speaking of books, BookSpeak!, a brand new poetry collection written by Laura Purdie Salas and illustrated by Josée Bisaillon, is officially out today!! WooHoo!

You’re gonna love all the quirky, illuminating poems (a veritable cacophony of wonderful voices) and the exuberant pictures that go with them. Talky talky talky!

But before we proceed any further, some party favors. First, a bookplate in honor of Laura (this one is not to be confused with the bookplate in Poem #12, who reminds us: “I don’t need your napkin./I’m not your soup bowl’s mate.”)

Next, in honor of Josée, a unicycle! You have your pick of colors. Feel free to cruise around the rest of this post on it.

Of course, to show both Laura and Josée just how excited you really are, you should balance your bookplate on your head while atop your uni! ☺

Okay, back to BookSpeak!

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friday feast: peeling it back with j. patrick lewis (the top banana)

September 9, 2011September 13, 2017 ~ jama ~ 27 Comments

I must confess to feeling quite yellow today.

Not yellow as in dingy or cowardly.

Yellow as in sunshiny bright and slap happy. It’s all because I’ve just read a poem that feels like it was written just for me. ☺

Oh, at last! Somebody understands! Somebody KNOWS. And it’s our Children’s Poet Laureate, no less. Phew! I thought I was the only one. Yes, we have some bananas today.

BANANA STRINGS
by J. Patrick Lewis

Why not divide the world in two:
Those who don’t from those who do
Detest banana strings? Do you?

I wish bananas just came plain
Without that long mushy membrane,
That nauseating food chain chain.

Take a banana, then start to peel.
Now tell the truth, how does it feel?
And don’t ask me, What’s the big deal?

If I so much as see a string,
I tweezer off the ugly thing
As gummy as a bathtub ring.

Would you eat hot dogs wearing hair?
No! Say good night to this nightmare.
Always eat your bananas bare.

While we’re in a bare bananas frame of mind, do you by chance also belong to the, “I’m the only one in my house who eats bananas, and hate when the entire bunch ripens at the same time” club? Oh, the pressure to eat them all!

This just in: There’s hope! Supposedly, if you peel a banana top to bottom with the stem side down (like monkeys do), the strings (phloem bundles) are less likely to adhere to the fruit.

I tried this with my breakfast banana the other day, and it didn’t work. Those strings were still clinging and messy and positively mocking me! What am I doing wrong? They just won’t leave me alone. But you might have better luck. My only consolation is that I have Pat’s poem, which I’ll henceforth read several times before battling any future strings.

Phloem bundles? Who knew they had such an important function — carrying nutrients to the entire fruit? Mother Nature doesn’t make any mistakes. But she sure likes to string us along (sorry, couldn’t resist). ☺

Thanks a bunch, Pat!

To alleviate your string stress, wrap your lips around this (no strings attached):

*(click for Black Bottom Banana Cream Pie recipe)*

♥ Today’s Poetry Friday Roundup host is Katie at Secrets and Sharing Soda. Feast on the full menu of poems and enjoy your weekend!

♥ Visit J. Patrick Lewis’s official website!

♥ For more monkey business, i.e., a “disturbing new fashion trend,” read this.

♥ To bask in more yellowness, click here.

♥ Yes, there is even a I Hate Banana Strings Facebook Page.

One more thing: Do you peel as you go, or take the entire peel off before eating? I like my bananas totally naked. ☺

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friday feast: letter perfect

May 6, 2011December 24, 2017 ~ jama ~ 2 Comments

#30 in an ongoing series of posts celebrating the alphabet.

“Think about it. Every word that has ever been invented belongs to you just as much as it belongs to the most famous author, poet, fairy tale teller, or song composer.” ~ Rebecca Kai Dotlich

Thefancyladygourmet/flickr

Some of you may know that I am stark raving mad about have a teensy obsession with the alphabet.

The mere sight of those 26 letters — singly, in groups, edible or inedible, gets my pulse racing, my heart thumping. I’ve always believed each letter has its very own personality (X is risqué and mysterious, B has an inferiority complex). You gotta admire something that comes with its own sound effects, is open to mingling freely with all its counterparts, and is so versatile it can lend itself to countless words.

In our old house, I stenciled the alphabet in one of our hallways, and every time I saw those letters, I marveled that different combinations of those 26 symbols gave us all the works of Shakespeare, E.E. Cummings and Dickens, the Bible, Pooh and Paddington. Like Rebecca says in the opening quote, we all have equal access to those letters and every word ever invented. Tremendously exciting and humbling at the same time.

Heinz Alphabetti and Numberetti by Leo Reynolds/flickr

Last month, Rebecca and I got to talking about alphabet pasta and soup and favorite words (she and I both love “pudding”). You probably know she’s a champion word collector, part of the reason she’s such a brilliant poet. Imagine my surprise and delight when she sent a poem written just for me! Somehow, I’ve managed to stop cartwheeling around the kitchen just long enough to share it with you today. Thank you sooo much, R!

ALPHABET COLLECTOR
by Rebecca Kai Dotlich

The A’s are always plentiful.
What would a word collector do
without them, tell me . . .
and the o’s, let there be a ton
(see? Needed one) and the c;
please stack up the t’s, too;
throw in an x here and there
for interest, for spunk.
Dunk these letters in soup
and let them float, call it art,
that’s what it is; a letter biz.
What better way to spend an hour
or a day; a lifetime, really.
Alpha, alpha, alpha, betcha
can’t do it like she does.

Back to cartwheeling . . .

What’s better than admiring the alphabet? Eating it, of course!

Uber cool edible alphabet set by Don Moyer/flickr.

So, what’s your favorite letter and why? (These days, I’m favoring Y — so strong, it can ask a question even if W and H don’t want to cooperate. “A” gets far too much attention being first, and sometimes is decidedly haughty at being the only letter who’s also a complete word all by itself.)

♥ This post is brought to you by the letters R, K, and D, a beautiful poet with a child’s heart and quite possibly, cute toes.

♥ Today’s Roundup is being hosted by Terry at Family Bookshelf. Enjoy all the cool poems being shared around the blogosphere this week and don’t forget to:

“When I was having that alphabet soup, I never thought that it would pay off.” ~ Vanna White.

Certified authentic alphabetica. Handmade for you with love for perfect poets. ♥

amy ludwig vanderwater: little birds, a grandma and THAT CAKE

April 22, 2011October 22, 2017 ~ jama ~ 2 Comments

#15 in the Poetry Potluck Series, celebrating National Poetry Month 2011

Hello my little chickies!

Just in time for Easter weekend, Amy Ludwig VanDerwater and her three children have brought some eggs to our poetry feast! They just happen to live at Heart Rock Farm, set on a sprawling 24 acres up in Holland, New York, where they cavort with Icelandic sheep, rabbits, cats, a dog, and of course, chickens.

*L to R: Hope, Amy, Georgia and Henry VanDerwater with eggs used in today’s recipe.*

In this season of growth and renewal, it’s good to celebrate life, ponder its mysteries, cherish its fleeting moments, and hold our loved ones close. Amy enjoys growing meaningful words and thoughts at her Poem Farm, cultivating the seeds of promising ideas, nurturing them as they blossom into words, and then sending them off into the big wide world. Whether you’re hatching a brand new idea or gazing upon the faces of your biological offspring with wonder and awe, there’s no better way to sing of these sweet miracles than with a poem.

Amy: I wrote this poem in 2000, the year our third child, Henry, was born. That same year, Mark’s paternal grandmother died. Grandma’s recipe for “Pineapple Slices” carries on, as do so many memories of her strength and goodness. Watching Hope, Georgia, and Henry grow up, I realize how quickly this cycle circles ’round, how swift is the time between egg and mother bird.

MOTHER BIRD’S LULLABY
by Amy Ludwig VanDerwater

Someday
you’ll be
grown up birds.
You’ll fly
to far-off places.
And I will keep
this memory
of your tiny
feathered faces.

Someday
you’ll be
grown up birds.
You’ll do
grown up bird things.
And I will keep
this place for you
right here
beneath my wings.

So lovely! And there’s nothing I love more than hearing about a family recipe that’s flavored with fond memories and becomes a precious legacy for succeeding generations. Amy wrote about Grandma VanDerwater’s famous Pineapple Slices (or “cake”) in this funny, charming essay/commentary for WBFO/National Public Radio. Seems when she was dating her husband-to-be, Mark, she learned “the cake” would undeniably figure in their future together.

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