Wines and October

You tell me it has faint strokes of citrus,

and I wonder how citrus could find

its way into Missouri clay, but it does.

Or that robust suggestions of cherry,

black courant and toffee (toffee?),

punctuated by smoky oak and pepper,

will splash my palate well with pasta,

grilled meats and Brie. But a hint

of cigar? Down my throat?

Accompaniment to duck and steak

and meaty stews replete with fatte

d’animal?

I think not; instead, I will sit atop

this hill of stones, this mount of pleasant,

my glass of Oregon redness in my hand

inhaling its silky smoothness,

its ripe black fruits and rich suppleness,

and turn my eyes to the sun.

I am not a beer drinker. There are two kinds of beers I have been know to occasionally partake of:  Guinness Extra Stout (“Taste It. Believe It. Become a Believer.”) and Corona Light – occupying two ends of the commercial beer spectrum. I live in the land of Anheuser-Busch, so you think I would average more than a beer every other year.

This may have something to do with how much beer my father drank. He liked Falstaff, which was brewed in St. Louis. I occasionally bike past the old Falstaff brewery on South Broadway, and see the company symbol sculpted in stone on the building façade, and think of my father.

Over at TweetSpeak Poetry, Seth Haines has posted a poetry prompt about Octoberfest. We didn’t have Octoberfest when I was growing up in New Orleans, but when we landed in St. Louis, we discovered Octoberfest about 90 miles to the west, in the little town of Hermann. Hermann was settled by immigrants from the Rhine River Valley, and they liked their wine. Today, Hermann is part of the wine production industry in Missouri, which stretches west, southwest and south of St. Louis. Even nearby southwestern Illinois has added a few wineries.

We’d go to Hermann in October, and we would find us some wine. At other times of the year, we head to Augusta, Missouri, much closer than Hermann, and visit the Augusta Winery (the town is also home to Mt. Pleasant Winery).

And having been blessed with a bottle of Merlot from Sineann Winery in Oregon, well, you can see where this poem came from – a found poem using fragments of promotional and advertising phrases about wines from Stone Hill Winery (Hermann), Augusta Winery, and Sineann Winery.

To see what others have been writing about Octoberfest, please visit TweetSpeak Poetry and say hi to Seth.

This poem is also submitted to Open Link Night at dVerse Poets.

Photograph: Bottles of wine by Jiri Hodan via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

Why Poetry Matters

Last month, I had a poetry-and-wine giveaway here for L.L. Barkat’s InsideOut: Poems. One copy of the poems would be given away at random to one person who simply entered a comment. The winner of the more challenging assignment – write in 100 words or less on “why poetry matters,” would receive a copy of the Poems and a bottle of Sineann wine.

The entries were stunning. Some were poems themselves; others short pieces of prose. All were good. Too good not to acknowledge.

Some were posted on the individual writer’s web or blog site; others were entered directly into the comment section of my blog post. All of them need to be shared.

I’ve started posting the entries, one a day, over at TweetSpeak Poetry. We have three up so far. Take a look.

The Envelopes, Please

We have two winners in our poetry and wine giveaways.

Winner #1 – name drawn at random – receives a copy of L.L. Barkat’s InsideOut: Poems. I asked my wife to pick a number up to and including 30 (she hadn’t seen any of the comments). And the winner is Graceful, aka Michelle DeRusha.

Winner #2 had to answer one of two questions in 100 words or less: “Why poetry matters today,” or “Why I love poetry.” Winner #2 receives a copy of InsideOut: Poems and a bottle of Sineann 2007 Merlot Hillside, which is being kindly donated by Nancy Rosback of Sineann Wines, also known as @poemsandprayers on Twitter and who writes from her blog Just Say the Word.

And this was tough. I’d like to choose them all – there are some great answers. And some were beautiful poems.

But I had to select one.

I narrowed it to four, then three, then two. And tore my hair out (poetically, of course).

And finally picked one that answered the question, “Why poetry matters today”:

“You read it aloud in the darkened room, your lamp the center of one pool of light. From another bulb’s halo, the poet sent the words out to you. Held in the vowels and caught on the consonants, somehow, is your own story written by a stranger. Truth unknown before now falls on you from the uneven ends of the lines. This moment of recognition is as ancient as the cave paintings we shine our flashlights on, deciphering our story from the shapes and tracings of another’s, the one with the courage to pick up the colors.”

Congratulations, Missy Kemp of Greenville, South Carolina.

Over the next few days, I will feature all of the answers to the questions at TweetSpeak Poetry.

Thank you all for participating. I was privileged to watch enthusiasm and great beauty unfold over the course of a week.