I must say it again: no other contemporary poet can touch Diane Lockward when it comes to food poems.
Sassy and sensual, this witty, playful temptress handles words like a master chef might gently caress juicy, blushing peaches right before setting them aflame with heartbreak and humor. I know when I read one of Diane’s poems my senses will be fully engaged and I’ll be surprised at where she takes me, inevitably enlightened by the emotional tune-up. She’s accessible, instinctual, and fearless! Whoever coined the phrase, “a feast of words,” must have had Diane in mind. She seems to perform her “high-wire acts of language and imagination” with the greatest of ease, titillating the reader without a safety net.
Recently, Diane released a new e-chapbook called Twelve forthe Record, which contains 12 of her most requested poems, four from each of her print collections (Eve’s Red Dress, What FeedsUs, Temptation by Water). I purchased Twelve for the Record as soon as it was available, even though I already own all her other books. You just never know when you’ll get a sudden craving for an exquisitely crafted poem that gleams and glistens; it’s nice having a few choice nuggets in your back pocket.
#7 in the Poetry Potluck Series, celebrating National Poetry Month 2012.
Hey, Poetry Friends – You’ve got mail!
I’m pretty sure there’s nothing children’s writer Martha Calderaro would rather do for Poetry Month than visit your neighborhood to drop a freshly penned poem in each and every mailbox. Imagine finding a love sonnet, a bawdy limerick, an inspirational verse, a clever bit of wordplay or calming lyric nestled among the bills and bank statements!
Since this isn’t physically possible, lovely Martha is doing the next best thing: she’s written a poem especially for the Potluck, a humorous flight of fancy that doubles as a tribute to a vanishing breed of messengers.
Daisy, Martha’s Muse: “Pat me. You know you want to.”
She’s also brought along her adorable six-month-old Newfoundland pup, Daisy, who was there when inspiration struck for today’s poem. It sounds like in Martha’s neighborhood, dogs wax poetic rather than chase after the mailman. We’re doubly glad Martha’s here today, cause her special delivery also includes a yummy recipe straight from the Muffin Man. ☺
#5 in the Poetry Potluck Series, celebrating National Poetry Month 2012
To behold her sweet, angelic countenance, it’s hard to imagine this author could be capable of such naughtiness. But I suppose it’s further testament of Linda Ashman’s brilliance that she was capable of creating the nastiest, most obnoxious brats in the history of alphabet books. Just one more reason to love love love the work of one of my favorite children’s authors working today.
You may wish to keep a safe distance from the “guest” Linda has brought along to the Potluck. Catastrophic Coco has stepped out of the pages of Linda’s cautionary collection of miscreants, M is for Mischief : An A to Z ofNaughty Children(Dutton, 2008), which as some of you may remember, I was brave enough to review here.
Though I’m a little nervous at having Coco in my kitchen, I admit to finding her oddly irresistible, as I do the other 25 characters in the book, which is an unforgettable feast of alphabetical disorder. While Coco’s busy cooking up chaos, I’m going to fill up on Linda’s tempting dish.
Poem for People That Are Understandably Too Busy to Read Poetry
by Stephen Dunn
Relax. This won’t last long.
Or if it does, or if the lines
make you sleepy or bored,
give in to sleep, turn on
the T.V., deal the cards.
This poem is built to withstand
such things. Its feelings
cannot be hurt. They exist
somewhere in the poet,
and I am far away.
Pick it up anytime. Start it
in the middle if you wish.
It is as approachable as melodrama,
and can offer you violence
if it is violence you like. Look,
there’s a man on a sidewalk;
the way his leg is quivering
he’ll never be the same again.
This is your poem
and I know you’re busy at the office
or the kids are into your last nerve.
Maybe it’s sex you’ve always wanted.
Well, they lie together
like the party’s unbuttoned coats,
slumped on the bed
waiting for drunken arms to move them.
I don’t think you want me to go on;
everyone has his expectations, but this
is a poem for the entire family.
Right now, Budweiser
is dripping from a waterfall,
deodorants are hissing into armpits
of people you resemble,
and the two lovers are dressing now,
saying farewell.
I don’t know what music this poem
can come up with, but clearly
it’s needed. For it’s apparent
they will never see each other again
and we need music for this
because there was never music when he or she
left you standing on the corner.
You see, I want this poem to be nicer
than life. I want you to look at it
when anxiety zigzags your stomach
and the last tranquilizer is gone
and you need someone to tell you
I’ll be here when you want me
like the sound inside a shell.
The poem is saying that to you now.
But don’t give anything for this poem.
It doesn’t expect much. It will never say more
than listening can explain.
Just keep it in your attache case
or in your house. And if you’re not asleep
by now, or bored beyond sense,
the poem wants you to laugh. Laugh at
yourself, laugh at this poem, at all poetry.
Come on:
Good. Now here’s what poetry can do.
Imagine yourself a caterpillar.
There’s an awful shrug and, suddenly,
you’re beautiful for as long as you live.
(1966)
via Jill ee
This one speaks for itself. Besides, I wouldn’t want anyone to think I actually had time to read poetry ☺.
What’s buzzin’ in your hive?
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Here in the Alphabet Soup kitchen we’re revving up for the 3rdAnnual Poetry Potluck! Here’s my announcement from earlier this week. Full Menu and Giveaway details next Friday, March 30th.
Doing something special for Poetry Month? Please let me know in the comments so I can include the info in my roundup post next week! Thanks.
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Beautiful-as-a-butterfly Mary Lee is hosting the Poetry Friday Roundup today at A Year of Reading. If you’re not too busy, flitter over there to enjoy all the delicious poems being served up in the blogosphere this week. But only if you’re not too busy, mind you. Only if you’re not too busy.
Pay no attention at all to this strawberry shortcake. Its feelings won’t be hurt if you don’t eat any.
Though the calendar says March 20th is officially the first day of Spring, this season of fresh starts and renewal seems to have rushed in ahead of schedule.
In downtown D.C., the cherry blossoms have already popped. Our daffodils came up a month ago, last week we had temps in the 80’s, and the robins are already packing for their summer vacations. Winter was strange; our lawn stayed green the entire time, and not once did we have to clear our driveway of snow. We live in such a fast-paced world — now, even nature seems to be in a hurry. ☺
Recently, Diane released a new e-chapbook called Twelve for the Record, which contains 12 of her most requested poems, four from each of her print collections (Eve’s Red Dress, What Feeds Us, Temptation by Water). I purchased Twelve for the Record as soon as it was available, even though I already own all her other books. You just never know when you’ll get a sudden craving for an exquisitely crafted poem that gleams and glistens; it’s nice having a few choice nuggets in your back pocket.
Jama's Alphabet Soup 