Aftermath of fermentation:
crystalline grape guts
scrim staves of
a now-empty cask.
Hundreds of bottles of wine
and divine meringues
whisper like possibilities in
shared oak origins.
Smudges of lipstick,
crumpled linens
scraped from beeswing residue,
secular philters that whip us
into peaked perfection.
See how the end of time
fills our raisined hands,
stands us alone in arbored fields.
Outpouring of vinegar
under the drying sun.
We bare our teeth
to this last bitterness,
pour it with salt over potatoes
dug from black earth.
Author notes
I learned recently that cream of tartar (used to make meringue) is a byproduct of winemaking-- when the wine is done fermenting, cream of tartar is the stuff that forms on the barrel. I found it to be an intensely poetic fact, and I've been working ever since to write about it. I hope I have succeeded.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 15 of 15
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Wow, u have a heck of a vocabulary, I'm serious! That was really cool! I seriously don't see how you(and other poets)can get something so amazing out of winemaking and little things! Whenever i attempt it, it turns out to be one of my worst poems! Very nice.
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Hi, SS. Thanks for reading and commenting on my piece. If I may say without sounding preachy, I don't think it's the size of the subject that matters in a poem. It's how much the poet cares about the subject that's important. I happen to care a lot about culinary facts, so that is the passion you are hearing from me in this. Whatever you are passionate about will shine through in your writing. I look forward to reading your work and finding out.
Thanks again,
Pie
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Hi, my cpie. I don't know how deep you wanted to go with the gloopy, creamy tartar stuff, but this poem went WAY down deep for me. As I read it through, I went from wine to cuisine to secular liturgies with wines and wax to the bitternesses of fermented bodies, like salted potatoes, in the earth. Wow! Did I sense more than you did in this one? I doubt it, but even if I did, I reveled in the subconscious swirlings in the id of one of my favorite poets: thee.
So many phrases are tart, like a creamy pie, that it's hard to pick out the most fascinating passages, but "dug from the black earth", "wine / and divine meringues", "scraped from beeswing residues", and "the end of time / fills our raisened hands" are enough to make me shake my head, up and down, in wonder.
The whole poem is much more, for me, than just about that strange, white tartar; it starts there, but then moves brilliantly down to death's white teeth. One of your best! And I liked the three-line sort-of haiku feel to it; isn't playing with trad forms great fun...and work - which in this case, amount to the same thing?
Luvya...
Lad -
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Hey, Lad. Nope, you aren't imaginging it, and no surprise here that you are the one that caught my deeper intentions with this piece-- the contrast between heaven and earth, the divine and the secular, tapped from the same barrel. That's what I found so irresistable about the strange white stuff, as well as with the whole winemaking process in general-- vinegar, wine, grapes, raisins, and cream of tartar, a whole spectrum of archetypes waiting to be mined. And the fact that winemaking is one of humanity's oldest and most revered crafts. And, of course, there's my general obsession with all things culinary. I'm so glad you loved this piece. All poems are near to the poet's heart, but this one more so. My great-grandpa, the blue man of my poetry, used to grow grapes and make his own wine.
And yep, loved arranging and re-arranging the words, the three-line stanzas. I am finding lately that I enjoy some order to my lines, even if it's still informal.
Luv,
Heavenly merinGue.
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Hey CP
Well I'll have to say that I never had any idea about the cream of tartar fact. Very interesting, even more so that you could write a poem about it, I liked the tone of the poem alot. Used strong and intelligent vocabulary but still had a humurous factor to it, at least it did to me. But I could have taken the poem the wrong way. Who knows cept you? Anyways, I liked most of it alot, weird subject, but none the less interesting. Not exactly something I am personally interested in, but interesting no less. Good use of your artistic skills.
Hope to talk to ya soon.
TTYL
MM
language: 4, rhythm: 4, subject: 4, tone: 4, form: 4.
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Hi, MM. Glad you liked this poem-- my aim was to interest everyone, even people who usually aren't very interested in cooking. Thanks for that.
Pie
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Full of precision and tang...
I like the way "crystalline grape guts" starts this off and sets the tone. So many good images : my favorite is
"See how the end of time
fills our raisined hands,
stands us alone in arbored fields."
Shifting from human to plant life and processes and combining the two is masterful and seamless. The CP recipe book is getting thicker. bravo - MJ
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Hi, Richard. Thanks for reading and commenting, as always, on one of mine. Yep, I will never quite get away from my fascination with all things culinary. My poetry will have to be put with cookbooks.
Lauren
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Culinary Dualisms
and paradoxical fermentations. Hi there CP! Hope things are well with thee and thine. Good to see you flow again with imaginitive extrovert contemplative poetry.
I thought there was something fishy about tartar sauce but its composite origins and evolutionary traits leading to meringue was new wisdom imparted!
I think this piece denotes a depth of discipline towards your writing Lauren, that is as impressive as it is exciting for what future writes might bring.
Wordy to the max! I love that (even had to look up scrim!). Enjambments betwixt the stanzas work really well as do complementing consonants: "..grape guts" "peaked perfection" etc.
"whisper like possibilities" great line.
Needs more than one read thru this CP especially the last three stanzas. Well worth it though!
Mucho regards
gG
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Hi, Simon! It's good to be back. I'm very pleased to hear that you found this poem disciplined-- it's a peculiar thing, but I found it refreshing to fashion something so carefully, as opposed to the poetic chaos, carnality and carnage I have served up recently. Am also pleased that you picked up on the duality, the white and the black, the celestial and sweet as well as the mealy and earthy. I was so enamoured with this peculiar culinary fact that it demanded a poem, over which I have labored for some weeks. It does not surprise me that you enjoy as much as I do outre food facts that test the hardiest tummies amongst us.
Funny enough, cream of tartar is not related to tartar sauce, and neither are related to cream of tartar. Also no relation: steak tartare. Que extrano es la lingua, no?
Cream of tartar, better known to the chemist and the alchemist as sodium bitartrate, is the stuff that forms in the wine barrel. Beat into egg whites and you have meringue. Tartar sauce is mayonnaise with seasoning and vegetables added. Steak tartare is uncooked beef (or horse), though I have no idea as to the origin of its name.
Cheers and bottoms up for tarts and vino alike!
Lauren
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Heheh. Yeah Pie.
I am a culinary philestine! And I willingly acquiesce to your superior wisdom. I´m more gore than gourmet I guess.
gGallopping
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Okay...
I've read this several times now, CP. First off, once again you write beautifully. I like the three-line stanzas, each a complete thought of imagery that intrigues and leads the reader onward to learn more. The mystery and intrigue are palpable, less of course the title, which is a dead give-away. This had a great deal of "I did not know that" appeal and I enjoyed the imagery explicating the birth of some white gunk in a wine barrel. Which leads me to my only con, it's about white gunk coating the inside of a wine barrel. Now, if it didn't serve in the constitution of meringue(which I love), I would be asking "why should I care?". I don't view the subject choice with the same zeal as you...before...but now I think it's pretty damned nifty. And it's all your fault. You got me to be interested in some gloopy paste in an oak cask, now that's writing and I applaud you for it. Though I don't share the same romantic zeal for that stuff, I do think your writing was terrific to that end. Well done, CP.
al
language: 5, rhythm: 4, subject: 3, tone: 5, form: 5.
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Heh. In that case, this poem did what I hoped it would do-- make non-culinary types care about gloop in a barrel. I was just fascinated with the idea that something as heavenly as meringue has such a lowly beginning.
Thanks, as always, for reading and the generous comment.
Lauren
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yes CP I believe you had succeeded with your usual elegance of words..............only a poet would delve this far into such a subject and make other poets see your viewpoint! I might be a bit dense but the part about pouring it over black potatoes escapes me............however I love the images of lipstick and crumpled linens coming from the barre\rl. well done! LD
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Hi, LD. Thank you for the encouragement on the read. You are not dense at all-- I was a little oblique on the ending-- I was interested in the contrast between white cream of tartar, that makes otherworldly meringues, and the plain black earth, with potatoes. Nothing more.
It's good to be back.
Lauren
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