#19 in the Poetry Potluck Series, celebrating National Poetry Month 2011.
Hola! ¿Qué pasa?
The lovely and brilliant Kate Coombs, Ms. Book Aunt herself, is here to spice things up! I just learned she speaks fluent Spanish and comes from a very cool multiethnic family -- a blend of Caucasian, Korean, Filipino, and Samoan. I'd call that a pretty tasty mix, wouldn't you? Think about it: pancakes for breakfast, japchae and kimchi for lunch, pancit for dinner. Yum!
Today, Kate's sharing three poems inspired by her teaching experiences in a primarily Latino district near downtown Los Angeles. They are from an unpublished bilingual collection called Street of Songs, and will whet your appetite for pupusas and tamales. Hot stuff!
Pico-Union street scene
Kate: Street of Songs/Calle de Canciones is a group of poems about the life of a third grader named Lily Quiñonez who lives in L.A.'s Pico-Union neighborhood. My inspiration was teaching elementary school for five years in that part of L.A. -- actually Koreatown, but the local population, not the working population, is predominantly Latino.
Then I became a teacher for the school district's home/hospital program. I was invited to the children's homes for birthday parties while at the grade school, and I've spent a lot of time since in Latino homes as a teacher of seriously ill students -- cancer and post-surgery patients, among others. I've met so many terrific kids, and mischievous kids, you name it. I wanted other people to meet them, too! So I began writing about them, and I ended up with the Lily poems.
Forkable Blog/flickr
CORN
by Kate Coombs
Corn grows along the fence
of my godmother's house,
a row of green Aztec feathers.
Inside each ear,
yellow pyramids yearn
to step up to the sun.
© 2011 Kate Coombs. All rights reserved.
mattmadden123/flickr
JALAPENO
by Kate Coombs
Have you ever bitten
into a chili like a dragon's smile
and breathed out a red sun?
© 2011 Kate Coombs. All rights reserved.
smART Image Photography/flickr
Ay caramba! My mouth's on fire. Good thing Kate brought a poem to cool things down. Ahhhhhhh!
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By: Jama Rattigan,
on 4/28/2011
Blog: jama rattigan's alphabet soup (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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By: Jama Rattigan,
on 4/27/2011
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I follow Papa everywhere, Papa eats what Papa wants. My mother (and Nana too) Most of the time, My mother (and Nana too) peel off the skin, cut the duck into tiny pieces After dinner, Nana and my mother pile dishes in the sink
#18 in the Poetry Potluck Series, celebrating National Poetry Month 2011.
Those of you familiar with Susan Taylor Brown's poignant and heartbreaking middle grade verse novel, Hugging the Rock (Tricycle Press, 2006), know that the primary reason she wrote the book was to give herself the father she'd never known.
Susan with her grandpa and neighbor friend, Ginny.
Just for our Potluck, Susan wrote about the special relationship she had with her grandfather -- revealing, among other things, his influence on her eating habits. Carnivores will rejoice, others will think about their own grandfathers, and most everyone will be touched by this tender portrait, so lovingly crafted with telling detail.
Susan: My mother and I lived with my grandparents while I was growing up. My grandfather died when I was ten but until then, I was pretty much his shadow, right down to his eating habits. He was a big meat-eater and I was too. I was inspired to write this to go with the meat-eater recipe I wanted to share with you.
DINNER WITH PAPA
by Susan Taylor Brown
copying his walking, stomping across the wooden porch,
sliding behind him into the space beneath the house,
pushing away cobwebs and nosy spiders to hand him a monkey wrench,
standing beside him at the kitchen sink while we wash
(up to our elbows) for dinner.
Meat and potatoes (every meal)
with one slice of white bread, lathered thick with butter.
Vegetables (sometimes but not always)
and something sweet to finish every meal.
eat like they are never hungry.
Grapefruit for breakfast, cottage cheese for lunch,
small helpings at dinner, and sometimes, no dessert at all.
our meat comes from Mayfair Market down on Salvio Street.
Chicken. Pork Chops. A pot roast for Sundays.
But the best meat comes from Papa himself, after a day of fishing or hunting.
Catfish. Pheasant. Sometimes deer.
And my very favorite, duck, baked in the oven until the skin is cracker crisp.
then say they are full after just a few bites.
I mimic Papa and pick the duck up in my hands,
gnawing it like the wild thing he claims I am
until the juice from the greasy skin dribbles down my chin.
Papa says it’s good luck to get the piece with the BBs left inside the meat
but every time, luck favors my mother most of all.
then wash them all by hand, chattering like the best friends they are.
Papa grabs the evening paper and sets himself in the easy chair.
I listen to them but watch him,
waiting, waiting, waiting,
until he looks up and
By: Jama Rattigan,
on 4/26/2011
Blog: jama rattigan's alphabet soup (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: jone rush macculloch, poetry potluck 2011, Add a tag
#17 in the Poetry Potluck Series, celebrating National Poetry Month 2011.
Jone shows off one of her cool photos.
I'm very happy to tell you that today we have a special feast of poems and photos courtesy of Ms. Mac herself, Jone Rush MacCulloch!
I "met" Jone through Sunday Kicks at 7-Imp, and got to know her better through her Poetry Friday posts. She initially sent me one poem for the potluck, but after I saw the lovely photos and haiku from her new book, I persuaded her to let me share several of those with you, too.
Jone: I have always written poetry and loved poetry. I am a big believer of writing down at least three observations daily. Naomi Shihab Nye calls it building up a savings account of ideas. I love short poetry forms. I like the challenge of choosing the words to create an emotion or scene in a minimal way. Haiku and the shadorma (the form of this poem) are some of my favorites.
My grandmother was left handed as am I. When I was a teen, she offered to teach me how to tat, but I was too cool for that. It is one of my regrets. Luckily, I have some of her tatting.
Sadie Rush MacCulloch's tatting, tatting shuttle and notebook.
grandmother's
tatting shuttle flies
between threads
intricate
story knots about her life
I hold one to read
Copyright © 2011 Jone Rush MacCulloch. All rights reserved.
Though Jone regrets not learning to tat from her grandmother, she did inherit another part of her legacy, that of teaching. Jone's grandmother taught well into her 80's, and Jone has been teaching for 37 years so far.
This is what Jone had to say about her haiku/photo book, Solace au Naturel:
I decided to pull haiku and photos together when I saw an announcement for a juried "POD" (print on demand) book show at a local art gallery. Well, there were 200 entries and room for 70, so my book didn't make the cut. But I had a wonderful little collection of my photos and haiku. It's been a great gift to give. I loved the production part of making the book; the deciding which order, which haiku to include, etc. I find that I want to revise some of the haiku.
In the beginning of the book, I have a quote: "You don't take a photograph. You ask quietly, to borrow it." (author unknown) I feel that way when I take pictures. 
cathedral window
stillness beckons sun's warmth
afternoon arrives 
labyrinth flower<
By: Jama Rattigan,
on 4/24/2011
Blog: jama rattigan's alphabet soup (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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#16 in the Poetry Potluck Series, celebrating National Poetry Month 2011.
During the Christmas holidays every year, Rebecca Kai Dotlich makes sugar cookies with her grandchildren. I love this photo of her with three-year-old Mia. I wonder what they're talking about as they coax all that butter into submission?
For Mia, this is a relatively new family tradition, but for Rebecca, it's a beautiful extension of what she did for years with her own two children. ("I am no cook -- it is laughable -- but I am a mighty fine baker of homemade cut-out sugar cookies.") All the gold in the world couldn't buy or replace those precious memories of a warm kitchen, comfy aprons, wooden spoons and rolling pins, clouds of flour dusting counter and nose, the tap-splat of sweet creamery butter, and the sweet avalanche of sugar as it spills out of a measuring cup.
When I first invited Rebecca to the Potluck, she immediately thought about her sugar cookies and asked if she should write a poem about them. Of course I was wild about the idea, since cookies are my favorite thing to bake, and I love to hear how they sweeten other people's lives. Lucky for us, Rebecca ended up sending two poems. She explains why:
As I began to write a poem about those cookies, the same cookies I've made every Christmas since my children were small (and now with my grandchildren), I began to write words of a different recipe; ones that included but a dash of a cookie image. And it became very long. Even though much of my heart is stirred into that poem, I also wanted to write the poem I was asked for, so I baked a shorter, smaller poem, focusing strictly on the beauty of the cookie; the visually delicious aspect of them. What else? A cookie haiku.
Stars ON PLATES
A Cookie Haiku
by Rebecca Kai Dotlich
Frosted blue, crisp tips
sugared with sprinkle-candies;
sky treats melt in mouth.
Copyright © 2011 Rebecca Kai Dotlich. All rights reserved.
Positively scrumptious! Lovely how Rebecca focuses her poetic lens on her favorite cookie, distilling the essential goodness of the entire plate.
She said I could share the original longer poem if I wanted to. Wanted to?! Are you kidding? I've always believed cooking is an act of love -- a gift of patience, time well spent, a sincere wish to please, a sharing, and that perfect measure of heart mixed in for lasting flavor. I'm so grateful Rebecca baked this one up just for us:
"Morning Star" by geoarts/flickr
THIS MORNING
by Rebecca Kai Dotlich
On this day you would find
a soft package of stars
wrapped in sky, a ribboned tie
made of cloud, and a peace
of joy for your heart,
and they would fit perfectly
in the palm of your
By: Jama Rattigan,
on 4/21/2011
Blog: jama rattigan's alphabet soup (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: tracie vaughn zimmer, poetry potluck 2011, Add a tag
#14 in the Poetry Potluck Series, celebrating National Poetry Month 2011.
Take off your berets and put on your party hats!
It's Tracie Vaughn Zimmer's birthday! 
Len brought me these elephants from Kenya.
What is it about April? So many cool poets have birthdays this month. Yesterday was April Halprin Wayland's birthday, and Kelly Fineman's was on the First. They all just happen to be in very good company: Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Gary Soto, Seamus Heaney, Lee Bennett Hopkins. And while we're celebrating notable events, let's tip our hats to Tracie for the recent release of Cousins of Clouds: Elephant Poems (Clarion, 2011), which is absolutely gorgeous!
Like Tracie, I love elephants. Her poems examine their enormous size, affectionate parenting, loyalty to one another, complex relationship with humans, anatomy, voracious appetite, place in art and history, and are paired with fascinating sidebars. The poems vary in form (free verse, cinquain, sonnet, haiku, letter poems) as well as sentiment, and will definitely make you appreciate elephants in a whole new way.
I asked Tracie why she chose to write about elephants and to tell us a little about her process:
Tracie: I saw a program about urban elephants on PBS (of that title, I believe) and really fell in love with their majesty and plight. From there I just started reading everything I could get my hands on about them. When I first tried to start writing about them in poems they were heavy and clunky, because I was trying to stuff WAY too much information into each poem. When I finally found the non-fiction sidebar format (THANK YOU, Joyce Sidman) then it seemed to fall together. This, of course, after dozens of revisions. Children seemed so much more connected to animals than most adults (my daughter, especially) and I'm thrilled to share this collection with young readers (and like-minded adults, too).
(click to enlarge)
GRACE
by Tracie Vaughn Zimmer
The elephants line up
like kindergartners
before recess:
trunk to tail,
twelve in a row, waiting for the ringmaster's cue
to begin the parade
around the ring.
The first elephant carries
a woman in a beaded costume,
perched on a silk-embroidered saddle
thrown over the crisscrossed
map of its skin.
After discovering a popcorn bucket
with a few stray ker
By: Jama Rattigan,
on 4/18/2011
Blog: jama rattigan's alphabet soup (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: tabatha yeatts, poetry potluck 2011, Add a tag
#11 in the Poetry Potluck Series, celebrating National Poetry Month 2011.
Why, yes. That would be Herr Mozart himself, escorting the lovely Tabatha Yeatts, who's bringing a tasty bit of music history to the party today.
Please help yourself to a cup of rich, steamy Viennese coffee and make yourself comfortable. Nothing like the combination of coffee, chocolate, cinnamon and cream to alert you to the beauty in the world.
jeremy1choo/flickr
You may know that besides being a brilliant composer, dear Wolfie was somewhat of a prankster. He took great pleasure in razzing those he loved best. He was great friends with Austrian horn player Joseph Leutgeb, whom he met while Leutgeb played in the Archbishop of Salzburg's private orchestra. Mozart composed concerti especially for Leutgeb, and some of the scores are "embellished" with coarse jokes, crude asides and blatant name-calling -- all in the spirit of fun.
Consider this bizarre narrative, parts of which were strategically placed in Mozart's autograph score for his Horn Concerto No.1 in D major, written in 1791:
For you, Mr. Donkey—Come on—quick—get on with it—like a good fellow—be brave—Are you finished yet?—for you—beast—oh what a dissonance—Oh!—Woe is me!!—Well done, poor chap—oh, pain in the balls!—Oh God, how fast!—you make me laugh—help—take a breather—go on, go on—that's a little better—still not finished?—you awful swine!—how charming you are!—dear one!—little donkey!—ha, ha, ha—take a breath!—But do play at least one note, you prick!—Aha! Bravo, bravo, hurrah!—You're going to torture me for the fourth time, and thank God it's the last—Oh finish now, I beg of you!—Confound it—also bravura?—Bravo!—oh, a sheep bleating—you're finished?—Thank heavens!—Enough, enough!
Tsk, tsk. Boys will be boys. Good thing Herr Leutgeb had a good sense of humor, fully realizing how much Mozart respected his extraordinary musicianship (further evidenced by the difficulty of the composition). There's a little more to this story, but first let's hear from Tabatha:
I enjoy writing about history and spotlighting a particular moment. My daughter plays French horn and I have heard her practice Mozart's horn concertos many times. I offer my sincere respect to horn players.
MOZART SENDS CONCERTOS TO THE HORN PLAYER JOSEPH LEUTGEB
by Tabatha Yeatts
Leutgeb accepted these gifts
as the challenges they were --
tributes wrapped in golden paper,
fastened with knots that would take
months to untangle.
He laughed as he read them.
The audacity!
He imagined his friend
sharpening the nib of his pen,
finishing the rondo with a flourish:
"Play that,
if you can!
When you have conquered these notes,<
By: Jama Rattigan,
on 4/12/2011
Blog: jama rattigan's alphabet soup (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: poetry potluck 2011, jessica swaim, Add a tag
#7 in the Poetry Potluck Series, celebrating National Poetry Month 2011.
Jessica (center) with friends Kate Morton (Madame Ratowski) and Caroline Stutson (The Kid).
At every party, there’s always at least one guest who knows how to make a dramatic entrance.
Behold Jessica Swaim as Count Dracula’s bride, bedecked in lace and ready for a spooky delicious time. She’s brought along her ghoul friends, Madame Ratowski and The Kid, straight from the pages of her latest picture book, SCARUM FAIR, which was a 2010 Cybils Poetry Finalist. She’d love us to have some blood red punch (Types A, B, and O), a fur-lined cup of steamy, stinky Cat-Hair Stew and a Devil’s Food cupcake. Perfect way to channel the spirit of her creepy carnival and wake up the dead.
Flamingo Bakery/flickr
Up for an eerie coffin race, a bug tattoo, a ride in a terrifying teacup? Madame Ratowski will gladly read your palm for a piece of Swiss cheese. Personally, I’d like Dr. Crunch to straighten out my creaky cranium.
Wait. Is that steam coming out of your mouth? Ack! Your forked tongue’s on fire! Just couldn’t resist that second cupcake, could you? Good thing Jessica brought some “I-Scream” to cool things down. She says it’s sure to make the kiddies shiver and was easy to invent, since she’s cold all the time. Brrrrrrr!
I-SCREAM
by Jessica Swaim
Step right up and get your cone!
One scoop will chill you to the bone!
It’s made with ears of Arctic hare
and topped with chopped-up polar bear
with just a pinch of penguin beak
to numb your throat
so you can’t speak.
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By: Jama Rattigan,
on 4/8/2011
Blog: jama rattigan's alphabet soup (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: poetry potluck 2011, heidi mordhorst, poetry friday, Add a tag
Heidi: The efficiency of the bulk-cooking idea has always attracted me, but it hasn’t fit well with my pledge to stop shopping at places like Costco, or with the creative challenge of opening the fridge at 6:00 and having dinner on the table at 6:30. However, on a few occasions I’ve made enough of a thing to put some away in the freezer—and there’s hardly a better feeling than realizing you already have a nice loaf of pumpkin bread just waiting to be delivered to the Teacher Appreciation Breakfast at school. So when my partner took a few hours and whipped up four delicious pans of assorted lasagna for a holiday party, it occurred to us that we could do the same on a Sunday afternoon with the kids, and have that domestic-artiste, prepared-as-a-Boy-Scout feeling for a whole month at a time…. Colleague had the baby early? Lasagna in the freezer! Youth group dinner at the UU church? Lasagna in the free
#5 in the Poetry Potluck Series, celebrating National Poetry Month 2011.
amandabhslater/flickr
Chances are very good that if you drop in unexpectedly at Heidi Mordhorst's house, you won't go hungry.
After flashing her beautiful smile and serenading you with "Fields of Gold," she'll pop open her amply stocked freezer, take out a pan of homemade lasagna and toss it into the oven. 
joshbousel/flickr
Then, while you're waiting for this symphony of tomato sauce, mozzarella, ricotta, crushed tomatoes, roasted eggplant, Italian sausage and spinach to emerge all bubbly-oozy and garlicky from its fiery kiln, she'll recite the poems she contributed to the just-published Life in Me Like Grass on Fire: Love Poems (Maryland Writers' Association, 2011).
Squisito! *kisses fingertips*
Ever ready with poetry and pasta, busy working mom Heidi likes to be prepared for visitors, whether they be two or twenty. Her food is so delicious you'll probably eat everything in sight.
But don't worry, she'll hand you an apron and spatula, so you, too, can be part of her Lasagna Factory, the perfect family food project. After all, you never know who'll be dropping in next.
teenytinyturkey/flickr
food_in_mouth/flickr
Rcakewalk/flickr
By: Jama Rattigan,
on 4/7/2011
Blog: jama rattigan's alphabet soup (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: poetry potluck 2011, joann early macken, Add a tag
#4 in the Poetry Potluck Series, celebrating National Poetry Month 2011.
Mill Creek MetroParks/flickr
Ah, Sweet Spring!
I'm not sure the daffodils have appeared yet on the shore of Lake Michigan where JoAnn Early Macken lives, but I do know she's been in the "Spring state of mind" since March 4th, her favorite day of the year.
This is the day she feels is the true beginning of Spring, a day to "take the bull by the horns and take care of business. Blaze a trail and follow it. Harness the horses and plow ahead." For JoAnn, Spring is more than a season; it's an attitude. March forth, embrace all the possibilities, and celebrate this time of renewal with promise twinkling over the horizon.
Lovely!
JoAnn: Any day now, we’ll all surrender to one of those glorious afternoons when everyone rejoices in the world and we all leave our jackets on the playground. Troubles seem trivial, problems feel petty, and all we want to do is drop everything, run outdoors, and soak up the sunshine.
I think we should designate JoAnn as our official Spring Ambassador! Before I share her poem, please replace your beret with this:
Lookin' good! ☺ ☺ ☺
Back to JoAnn:
My father was a construction worker, and he was always working on a project around the house. He often corralled my sisters and me to fetch tools and hold things while he nailed them in place or sawed them into pieces. In Spring, my favorite time of year, I watch for warblers, hummingbirds, orioles and other migrating birds to return and daffodils, hepatica, crocuses and other flowers to pop up. Memories and anticipation came together in this little poem. 
SteveJM2009/flickr
CONSTRUCTION CREW
by JoAnn Early Macken
Daffodils bulldoze last year's leaves.
Chickadees haul twigs and straw.
Woodpeckers hammer on trembling trees,
and crows call out, "Saw! Saw!"
Their annual project's a glorious thing --
They're building a brand-new spring!
© 2011 JoAnn Early Macken. All rights reserved.
Wolfgang Wander/flickr
I'm happy to report our backyard construction crew has been very busy doing exactly what JoAnn mentions in her poem -- all except the woodpeckers, who prefer the cedar siding on our house to the trees. Jus
By: Jama Rattigan,
on 4/6/2011
Blog: jama rattigan's alphabet soup (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: poetry potluck 2011, carol weis, Add a tag
#3 in the Poetry Potluck Series, celebrating National Poetry Month 2011. Carol: The inspiration for this poem came from my daughter's (and many other kids) mispronunciation of the word spaghetti, along with my cousin Fred's love of all food Italian. I'm also doing an 18 week poetry residency with 4th graders and right now we're focusing on the ingredient of 'sound.' With repetition a portion of that element, I thought my 4th grade poets would appreciate my using this poem. PASGHETTI FREDDIE Pasghetti Freddie luvs spaghetti, Pasghetti Freddie luvs spaghetti, Pasghetti Freddie luvs spaghetti, Pasghetti Freddie luvs spaghetti, Pasghetti Freddie luvs spaghetti,
Chef Luigi is part of Carol's "Poems Have Feelings, Too" school-touring program.
Buon Giorno!
Time to twirl our moustaches and greet Chef Luigi and "Cow-Lady" Carol Weis!
I first ran into Carol online at Miss Rumphius's Monday Poetry Stretches. Imagine my delight when I discovered that besides being a mooover and shaker as an author and poet, Carol was also once a professional cook and pastry chef! Pass the tiramisu, I love you! ☺
Just for us, Carol is serving up a generous helping of everybody's favorite, spaghetti. I think we're all born with this love of long slippery noodles, and every time we twirl them around our forks, or enthusiastically slurp up a few toothsome strands, we get the happy flavor of childhood right along with spicy tomato and garlic. Is there any other food quite as much fun?
MsBlueSky/flickr
by Carol Weis
Much more than his wee mouth can hold,
When Pasghetti Freddie eats spaghetti,
He never does what he is told.
Much more than his choppers can chew,
When Pasghetti Freddie eats spaghetti,
The noodles slide down to his shoe.
Much more than his throat can swallow,
When Pasghetti Freddie eats spaghetti,
His legs, we swear, must be hollow.
Much more than his stomach can take,
When Pasghetti Freddie eats spaghetti,
His belly and knees always shake.
Much more than most kids that he knows,
When Pasghetti Freddie eats spaghetti,
He grins from his hair to his toes.
© 2011 Carol Weis. All rights reserved.
Mangia, mangia!
This was one of the first things I learned to make when I was growing up. My mom was a great cook, but we were never wild about her tomato sauce, which was always a little too watery. I used tomato puree back then and added tomato paste to thicken it even more. But when I started working in professional kitchens and learned about plum tomatoes, and then started growing my own, a whole new world opened up to me. There is nothing like a sauce made with fresh tomatoes. The color is vibrant and flavor incredible. I also add carrots to sweeten