March 2017 archive

Poetry Friday: A Taste of Home

After sharing My America: A Poetry Atlas of the United States last week, I’ve been thinking of poems and places. I found I poem I wrote and shared several years ago, but it captures one of my favorite places from home–Parker’s Barbecue in Wilson, NC. You can read more about the history of the restaurant (or is it an institution by now) in this feature from Our State Magazine. Just rereading the article and poem make my mouth water. How long until I plan another trip home to taste some? 
 
If you ever drive down I-95 through North Carolina, I highly recommend a detour to stop and eat and experience it for yourself. 
 
A Taste of Home
 
A fleet of waiters–
young men with lanky arms and legs
that stretch across tables
and old men, short with pot bellies–
tap their feet as they wait
for the square tables to fill,
empty, and fill again as the tides
of hungry patrons ebb and flow
within the walls of warm pine panels
where time twists and turns and
stands still within a whirlwind of constant
noise and motion.
Our waiter swoops upon us
before we even sit down
in the wooden chairs crammed between
walls and table,
his pen poised to take our order
before we’ve been given menus.
I’ve been gone too long
and have to let my eyes linger on a laminated menu
before ordering what I always get–
steaming barbecue, crisp french fries, Brunswick stew, shredded slaw,
sweet hushpuppies and chewy cornsticks
washed down with iced tea so sweet and strong–
With another swing of the kitchen door,
our waiter strides across the hardwood floor
worn smooth with years of pounding feet,
his arms laden with plates piled high
with the taste that takes me home–
shredded pork barbeque slow roasted in a pit
and drenched with vinegar and spices
that can’t be found outside the radius of home.
Each tangy bite pulls me back through the years
as timeless sounds wash over me:
the clatter of dishes mingles
with the cadence of conversations
and greetings called out in a drawl
I’ve long since lost.
Brunswick stew threatens to ooze
into the pile of cabbage shredded into tangy slaw,
and I spare a few bites between sips of tea,
but my fork snags mouthfuls
of the shredded pork barbecue
that may be world-famous
the length if I-95,
but for me the blend of vinegar and spices
calls me home
as I push away from the table,
sated and satisfied until I can return again.
 
Each Friday, I am excited to take part in Poetry Friday, where writers share their love of all things poetry. Amy has the Poetry Friday Roundup today at The Poem Farm. Drop by and see what poetry morsels are offered this week.

Poetry Friday: My America

Poems new and old explore the vast wonders and hidden treasures from around the United States of America in My America: A Poetry Atlas of the United States. Lee Bennett Hopkins has selected poems that take readers on a tour of our country, from New England lighthouses and the mighty Mississippi to  Grand Canyon and the California redwood. The poems invite us to pull up a rocking chair on a quiet front porch, explore a sagging ghost town, and hustle down a city sidewalk. Lush illustrations by Stephen Alcorn add to the already vibrant images within each poem.

While not every state gets its own poem, each region of the country is represented. The poems are grouped by geographic region, starting with New England and winding its way through the Capital, Southeast, Great Lakes, Plains, Rocky Mountains, Southwest, and Pacific Coast. Each section begins with a map of the states in the region and a fact box of information about each state. Poets include some of my favorites–Carl Sandburg, Lee Bennett Hopkins, Myra Cohn Livingston, X.J. Kennedy, Nikki Giovanni, Langston Hughes–and introductions to the work of many more poets.

As I read, I eagerly revisited places I have lived and traveled through (though I may have to write a tribute to my home state of North Carolina, which didn’t have its own poem). I dreamed of places I would like to see one day. Most of all, I thought of places I wanted to capture in a poem of my own.

What place would you like to remember in a poem?

Each Friday, I am excited to take part in Poetry Friday, where writers share their love of all things poetry. Catherine has the Poetry Friday Roundup today at Reading to the Core. Drop by and see what poetry morsels are offered this week.

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Poetry Friday: Lenten Reflections

This season of Lent I have been (somewhat unsuccessfully) taking part in a photo challenge. For each day of Lent, I am challenged to take a photo to represent the given word. In addition to the photos, I have added a short poetic response as well. Even though I’ve missed a few days, I appreciate the time to slow down and notice what is around me and connect those images to larger themes. Both the photography and the poetry help me to notice. Here are a few of the ones so far from my journey.

Human, unclench your fists.
Stretch forth open hands
to pray and serve.

Begin your journey
with God to light your way.
Each step moves toward love.

When life drains all hope,
I wait, empty and desolate,
for love to reign once more.

Silence blooms
in peaceful waiting.
Listen now.

Each Friday, I am excited to take part in Poetry Friday, where writers share their love of all things poetry. Robyn has the Poetry Friday Roundup today at Life on the Deckle Edge. Drop by and see what poetry morsels are offered this week.