| Title | : | What Feeds Us |
| Author | : | |
| Rating | : | |
| ISBN | : | 1893239578 |
| ISBN-10 | : | 9781893239579 |
| Language | : | English |
| Format Type | : | Paperback |
| Number of Pages | : | 100 |
| Publication | : | First published January 1, 2006 |
What Feeds Us Reviews
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Currently reading this, a poem a day, like a chocolate a day, a sweet indulgence. Sometimes I have two.
***
And then, today, I went wild and finished it, starting with "Blueberry," the poem that starts part two. I just kept reading and reading. Because poetry takes time, I will go back and read the individual poems at the one-chocolate-a-day pace, which was a good way to do it! But for now, I will say it was a privilege to meet the human being in these poems! Warm, loving, honest, flirtatious and coy at those moments, funny, and smart. She shows us her world, the world, and the beauty and yummy food in it. She also shows her broken heart, and I grieve alongside her.
It was very interesting to see snippets of information turn up in more than one poem, the terrible bees at a summer camp. This is so true of life--how certain images from memories do serve as motifs in real life, not just in art! They circle round.
I hope to read her other books, too. -
A Review of What Feeds Us by Diane Lockward (Wind Publications, 2006)
Published in Poetry Southeast, Spring 2007
Diane Lockward's second book, “What Feeds Us” (winner of the Quentin R. Howard Poetry Prize), is chock full of tasty poems; fresh, delectable poems; poems that drip blue juice that runs alluringly down your chin as you read.
What feeds us here is desire: desire for love, for a lover, for a lost child, for a lost parent, all this desire projected onto objects that one can sink their teeth into: a singular artichoke that grew against all odds; blueberry pancakes; a pear; an avocado. Each of these edible objects represent something to the speaker: a father walking out on the family; a mother lost and found and lost again; the redolence of reticence; the persistence -- no, insistence -- of self, and self-reliance.
The opening poem, “What Feeds Us”, a poem in seven sections, effectively sets up the major themes of this collection:
I brought the things I really need --
two books I love, a laptop,
clean white paper, a radio
in case I get lonely.
I packed two issues of the Hungry Mind Review
and just enough clothes.
Vitamins, ginger tea, a Gauguin cup.
I carried three almond croissants,
one of which I have already eaten.
The speaker, in indicating that she has brought only the things she needs, has deliberately distanced herself, and it is this distance that enables her to find a way back in to her tender subjects. In the second section of the poem, she walks into a deli and spots a cookie:
... and right away I start thinking about Joe
and the story he told about Darlene,
the one girl he really could have loved back
in high school, Darlene with the long yummy legs,
when Joe was a short, fat-assed kid
with zits. He'd sit in the cafeteria
and watch luscious Darlene nibble
a cookie, and he'd dream that one day
she'd sashay to his table,
hold our her cookie like a valentine,
and he'd take that cookie, and Darlene's lips
would be all over it.
The other sections of this poem present us with an abusive father, a return to the imagined love affair between Joe and Darlene, and, in a nod to Lockward's first book, Eve's Red Dress, a walk with Eve out of the garden, who carries an apple with her because “(s)he didn't know where she was going / but she knew she'd need something to eat.”
Fruit is returned to again and again throughout this collection. The noteworthy poem “Organic Fruit”, a shaped poem in praise of the avocado -- a “strict individualist” -- describes its subject as “schmoo-shaped”. Schmoo, satirical comic book characters created by Al Capp for the Lil' Abner cartoon series, purportedly reproduce asexually and require no sustenance.
Though not all of the poems include food as an ingredient, many of them do, employing food as a metaphor in surprising ways. In looking up the etymological beginnings of the oh-so-edible avocado, this reviewer found that it arises from the word testicle, finding reciprocity in “The History of Vanilla”, a sort of lullaby which reveals the evolution of the word vanilla as having its roots in the Latin vagina.
In the very fun “The Best Words” Lockward explores the tantalizingly forbidden encapsulated within ordinary everyday words “...that put a finger to the flame but don't burn. / Words like asinine, poppycock, titmouse, tit for tat, / woodpecker, pecorino, poop deck, and beaver.” These are sensual poems; ripe, verdant.
The poem, “Meditation on Green” begins:
It comes to me as a commandment:
Thou shalt meditate on green,
And because I am obedient
my thoughts turn to grass, blades
crushed under my feet, tiny green
grasshopper grinding his broken song.
Thence to the lime for it is a tart
fruit and hangs from trees without
causing any woman to fall. Green
for the novice, the inexperienced,
the not-knowing-any-better.
The pickle, repeatedly tempting me
to devour its green obscene shape.
This poem – beginning with a simple meditation on the color green – becomes more and more substantial with each turn of the line. Food may be the jumping off point, but these poems have depth. These are mature poems dealing with mature subjects, even tackling formal verse, as in “Love Test: A Ghazal”:
“The sign on the wall read: Test on love
coming soon. “My God,” I thought, “a test on love!”
I felt the familiar panic,
the tightening in my chest. On love
I'd be lucky if I pulled a C-.
I've always made a mess of love.
Occasionally the poems rely on insects as metaphor, as in “Fear”, where they are “...wasps / poised over your head, abuzz / while you sleep, or don't sleep”. A mother's hatred and loathing for anything that threatens her child invoked in “Invective Against the Bumblebee”:
I despise you for you have swooped down
on my baby boy, harmless on a blanket of lawn,
his belly plumping through his orange stretch suit,
yellow hat over the fuzz of his head.
Though you mistook him for a sunflower,
I do not exonerate you.
In yet another, the speaker finds herself amazed at her friend's ability to charm a bee from her lunch bag without getting stung, while in the “The Bee Charmer” a lover succeeds in convincing her of the necessity of bees, and, by extension, acknowledges the necessity of adversity in our lives, if only to provide contrast for the sweet.
“What Feeds Us” is a feast: frequently messy, but always delicious. You may be tempted, but you cannot eat this book.
You will want to read it again. -
It was a fair collection of poetry that didn't motivate my interest. The only poem that I liked was "Linguine".
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This collection of poems feeds me. Intrigued by Lockward’s The Crafty Poet, which mostly features other people’s poetry, I wanted to read her poems, especially if they were going to be about food. Well, this isn’t all about food, although there are some delicious entrees such as “The First Artichoke” and “The Tomato Envies the Peach.” Food and other elements of everyday life thread through poems about relationships, childhood, fear, illness, death and other topics. They are easy to read yet deceptively rich with layers of meaning. Lockward, who writes in free verse, has published several other books of poetry and has a new one coming soon, The Uneaten Carrots of Atonement. She has also been working on a sequel to The Crafty Poet. I plan to partake of whatever she puts on the menu. Check out her blog at Dianelockward.blogspot.com.
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As in her more recent book, Temptation by Water, the collection, What Feeds Us, shows poet Diane Lockward to be a masterful poet. Few poets today are as good as she at both creating a subtle coherent whole and individual poems that on their own dazzle and intrigue.
Read an interview with the poet here:
http://inermusic.blogspot.com/2012/03... -
A superb collection! Diane Lockward is a master of metaphor; her poems are direct, genuine, and layered with meaning. If you love poetry, this is a collection you don't want to miss.
