Happy Poetry Friday, Writerly Friends. We’re celebrating the
end of our Pantone® Poetry Project today.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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®.)
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.
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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.
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.
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.
Everyone is welcome. Everyone is fed.
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| Pillow made of sari fabrics from WorldMarket.com |
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.
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.
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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
Delicious, Michael. I'll be dreaming of Indian food tonight. But first, it's time for PRIZES!
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.
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.
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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.
Day 1: Apricot Illusion
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 13: Paprika, Burnt Russet
Day 14: Oxblood Red
Day 22: Quicksilver, Ballerina
Day 24: Sweet Pea, Orange Ochre
Day 25: Plein Air, Syrah
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:
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