Poetry Friday: 2014 Poetry Project Wrap-up

Happy Poetry Friday, Writerly Friends. We’re celebrating the end of our Pantone® Poetry Project today.

It’s Poetry Friday! Today’s host is
one of our Pantone® Poets --
Margaret Simon. Join her at
Reflections on the Teche for all
of today's poetry links.

On January 31, I invited everyone to join me for a month-long project, writing in response to interior paint colors.

This is the second time I've celebrated my February birthday with a daily project that gives back to the writing community. (Read the original Pantone Poetry Project post here.)

Last year, I sent original postcard poems to 44 friends. This year, Author Amok turned into a poetic version of a Color Run, with poets doused in all the shades of the rainbow for writing inspiration.

Photo of a Color Run from the Yale Herald.

During the 28 days of Pantone® poems, this is what we created:

115 original poems by

14 poets about

55 colors

The poems have covered such topics as love, memory, penguins, teddy bears, bad weather, longing for spring, and outer space. We've had haiku, free verse, diamantes, rhymed couplets -- a variety of forms and experiments.

Huge thanks to all my writing buddies, whether you contributed one poem, or wrote every day. I’ve got some prizes for you, but first, let’s see what we came up with for our final color.

Day 28 Tandori Spice
Pantone ®  18-1444

The poets knocked it out of the park today. I found these poems to be heartbreaking, warm, and funny (Patricia).

Today's poems are all portraits of one kind or another, each in response to this rich red. (The non-standard spelling of "Tandori" comes from Pantone®.)

Let’s start with Diane Mayr’s (Random Noodling) poem, in which the spice is a symbol of food and culture left behind.

Unsettled

by Diane Mayr

She now lives with

her son and his family

far, far from her home.

This world so different

insignificant things still

remind her she is not home.

Even the building taunts with

its bricks the color of the 

spicy chicken Mama made.

As she walks in the door

she remembers the smile

her mother always wore.

Someday soon, she

realizes, she will need to

unpack all of her luggage.

I'm amazed that a poet (Diane) can begin with one image -- bricks the color of Tandoori Spice -- and build a character like the mother in this poem.

Linda Baie of Teacher Dance is also looking at food and spices as a symbol of integration. When we share food, we share a whole culture.

Newlywed Complication

By Linda Baie 

Grandmother’s letter reads:

Rub the chicken with tandoori spice,

that bottle with the beautiful dark red color.

She sent it to me after I moved to the states,

reminds me of the color in the carpet,

in the dining room

at Grandmother’s.

Tears. My husband isn’t home to teach me

how to use the big black skillet,

his grandmother’s wedding gift to us,

the heavy iron one. She wrote on the card:

This is a special family heirloom,

been in the family for years. I hope it helps you cook

good things for my grandson.

He’s invited his parents for dinner and he wants,

he wants,

fried chicken.

I wanted to make something Indian for them,

to show that I did know how to cook.

The food I prepare with love and respect

is like going home to me, delicious tastes

and nutritious, prepared to honor those

who partake.

He says “no, we’ll give them ‘different’ another time,

when they’re more used to you."

For now, I pull the chicken parts

out of the refrigerator, rinse them,

and rub some of the spice into the skin.

A little won’t hurt, I can wash it off later.

I lean out the back door, observe the tandoor

sitting next to the gas grill,

given to us by my father-in-law.

One is my new husband;

one is me.

Both can feed us well if we only let them.

Linda Baie ©All Rights Reserved

Margaret Simon's poem could be read as a continuation -- a later chapter? -- in the narrative begun with Diane and Linda's offerings.

Gita’s House

by Margaret Simon (with a line from Gita’s son, Tinka)

Gita’s house smells of tandoori spice.

Pungent ginger and paprika

Sprinkle my nose with tingly powder.

Her life in India is a memory now,

a treasure of traditions for us.

Gita gave my daughters her old saris,

long elegant silk wrapped around their tiny bodies,

an Indian Princess fashion show.

Scraps became a soft pillowcase

for Maggie to take to college.

Gita shows me her spice cabinet,

a collection of masala—cardamom for tea;

yellow curry for chicken and rice.

She cooks Indian dishes from all over the country,

goat curry from the north, dosas from the south.

There are no empty stomachs or strangers in Gita’s house.
Everyone is welcome. Everyone is fed.

Pillow made of sari fabrics from WorldMarket.com

I love how Patricia VanAmburg uses hot flavors to create a rhyming portrait of Tandori Spice in human form.

Yes, She Was Hot

By Patricia VanAmburg

Tandoori was a dancer

Whose life was full of spice

She wasn’t really naughty

And she wasn’t really nice

With live coals in her belly

And fire on her breath

When she danced her hottest

She could burn a man to death

I’m going to throw a few snowballs at you so we can cool off after reading that poem. Below is my favorite painting by my husband's aunt, Barbara Kozell. We are lucky enough to live with this beautiful artwork.

My portrait isn't of a person, but of the bird in the painting. We see cardinals all winter long in Maryland, but this male seems displaced in his winter landscape.

Forsythia after Spring Snow

By Laura Shovan

Under the snow

the world

has caught fire.

A cardinal, red

as tandoori spice,

warms  himself

by the flames

of yellow blossoms.

UPDATE:

Poet Michael C. Davis is joining the party -- a little late, but always welcome.

DINING OUT

by Michael C. Davis

I like my meat red.

You could always order the lamb.

But look at that chicken

as red as a fire engine

abandoned in a field.

The bird’s flesh

skinned and rubbed

raw with garlic cumin coriander paprika cayenne onion.

The juice of a lemon

to cool it; a dahi balm

before roasting.

Pick it from the bone,

red nailed one.

Dip the tidbit in raita if need be.

Press the meat between

your ruby lips, Gopi.

Blue-fleshed Krishna needs a little tandoori spice

warmup.

Delicious, Michael. I'll be dreaming of Indian food tonight. But first, it's time for PRIZES!

As promised, I am sending Pantone postcards for further inspiration to the five poets who wrote most often. They are:

Michael Ratcliffe (3 poems)

Margaret Simon (13 poems)

Patricia VanAmburg (16 poems)

Linda Baie (21 poems)

Diane Mayr (26 poems)

That makes Diane Mayr our most frequent contributor. Her prize? A Pantone® writing notebook of her very own.

Thanks also to Michelle H. Barnes, Michael C. Davis, J. C. Elkin, Stephanie Lemghari, Heidi Mordhorst, Buffy Silverman, Donna Smith, and Tabatha Yeatts. Each of these fine poets shared a poem or two this month.

Would you like to go back and revisit all of the colors in our project? Here they are. Click on the links to read the poems. I hope you find something to inspire your own writing.

Introductory Post

Day 1: Apricot Illusion

Day 2: Peyote, Dark Earth, Cosmic Sky

Day 3: Monument, Purple Reign

Day 4: Hushed Violet, Demitasse

Day 5: Zinc, Bronze Mist, Aloe

Day 6: Kombu Green, Sugar Coral

Day 7: Jazzy

Day 8: Peach Pearl, Meteorite

Day 9: Wet Weather, Aqua Haze

Day 10: Amberglow, Golden Glow

Day 11: Tarmac

Day 12: Turbulence, Green Millieu, Whisper Pink

Day 13: Paprika, Burnt Russet

Day 14: Oxblood Red

Day 15: Lemon Meringue, Margarita

Day 16: Jolly Green, Cabaret

Day 17 & 18: Dubarry, Papaya Punch

Day 19: Orange Pepper, Soothing Sea

Day 20: Silver Bullet, Rhapsody

Day 21: Poseidon, Tornado, Aqua Splash

Day 22: Quicksilver, Ballerina

Day 23: Solar Power, Gulf Stream, Nimbus Cloud

Day 24: Sweet Pea, Orange Ochre

Day 25: Plein Air, Syrah

Day 26: Stormy Weather, Daybreak, Porcelain Blue

Day 27: Peacock Green, Blue Jewel

Day 28: Tandori Spice and project wrap-up

What’s next for Author Amok? During March, Michael Ratcliffe will stop by with a poetic form from Wales and Margarita Engle will visit to tell us about her latest novel-in-verse, Silver People.

Before you know it, National Poetry Month will be here. Time for another project. I’ll announce the project and put out a call for guest bloggers next Friday. Meanwhile, enjoy the 2014 NPM poster: