Compostable Morsels - a short poem short film series
I took 7 tiny poems and turned them into 7 tiny films. As I write this post, I’m reminded of all of the permutations this collection had before it reached this point. What started as a photo taken on a hike turned into one tiny poem written during a workshop. That morphed into several poems because I became mildly obsessed with the short form for a while. Soon, I had a little family of poems that I felt that needed to be kept together. I thought perhaps I’d try putting them in a chapbook to guarantee they would never be separated. But there weren’t enough poems. So I made more poems, but the chapbook that I ended up with didn’t feel right. It felt exactly like what it was - a cohesive group of poems padded with other poems to make a lengthier collection. The chapbook was originally called Compostable Morsels and remains unpublished. The films you see here are the original poems that I felt had to stick together. Turns out, I just needed to do something a little different.
apple | Compostable Morsels
Starting off this little series is a film that stars the original forbidden fruit, the apple. This poem doesn’t directly reference an apple (there are other fruits or vegetables I could’ve chosen to be pared) but when I was working on the poem and storyboarding the films, all I saw in my head was an apple and the soft curl of a single red peel. Even though this wasn’t the first poem written (that will come later), I really felt like this poem set the mood and tone for the series as I’ve always felt there was something a little bit magical about an apple.
This poem was first published in Emerge Journal.
tomatoes | Compostable Morsels
Most of these poems were written in a relatively close time span, and I felt myself constantly looking for something that could be my next short poem. Continuing on with the knife/food theme, film #2 in the Compostable Morsels series was literally inspired while I was cutting tomatoes on the cutting board and lamenting about how all the seeds kept squishing out. Side note: I probably just don’t know how to cut a tomato properly. But there was something about those “wasted seeds” that resonated with me. The parts we leave behind because we are in the process of becoming something else. Or things that could’ve been, if left to grow.
tea bag | Compostable Morsels
These poems were originally written in 2020 which was a year of staying inside and staying around the house. As a result, these little poems began to form around things I used in everyday life.
I am an avid tea drinker and always have a hot mug steaming nearby. Of course, I had to include a film about tea. The tea of choice for this film is one that I always make sure to have on hand the house, peppermint.
The “joy” sticker I stuck on the label was a last minute decision for a functional purpose - to hide the actual tea bag brand. In the end I felt it actually added an additional level of unexpected visual layering. As time passes, the “joy” is no longer visible.
peach | Compostable Morsels
In this case, it wasn’t the food morsel that inspired this poem, but the quiet beauty of an August evening sky.
If there’s one prop that was the hardest to prep for filming, it was the peach pit. It took so much time to remove all of the peach flesh and reveal all of the nooks and crannies so it would have some definition on film. Tools even got involved. There was lots of toothbrush scrubbing and even some fine picking with a cocktail fork.
This poem was first published in Emerge Journal.
tiger lily | Compostable Morsels
This film is both my favorite poem of the series and the first one to be written.
In 2020, I was attempting to try a few new things. One was to seek out and explore new places close to home. The other was to attend more online writing classes and virtual conferences.
As a result, one day, I was on a hike up to Grassi Lakes hoping to get some inspiration from the unique blue-green of mountain waters. Instead, what actually stuck with me was what I found at the beginning of the hike. A lone orange tiger lily blooming in the middle of the forest.
The next day, I attended a virtual poetry workshop held by the very kind and talented David Crews where we examined the short form poetry of Japanese poets Ono no Komachi and Izumi Shikibu. After a discussion, there was a prompt “Write a short five-line poem centered around one image. Use the natural world as a bridge to a human experience.” It’s no secret what I chose to write about. And so, this is where the Compostable Morsels series took its first roots.
table scraps | Compostable Morsels
Although, this is not the last film in the series, it was the last film that was shot. I had originally prepared other composable items like egg shells and fruit peels, but when I started doing the actual filming, I chose not to use them. It seemed to make sense that this film should be a bit of visual summary of the other films. The peach pit, apple seeds, and lemon rind are all callbacks to the other films.
lemon | Compostable Morsels
For the final film of the series, I wanted send the viewer off with something fresh and bright (assuming they were watching the series in order). While “table scraps” was the visual summary, it didn’t have the right feel I wanted to end the series with.
The lemon and I go way back. It was a staple in the household growing up. My parents used to make copious amounts of honey lemon tea to help combat colds and flus during the Canadian winters, and refreshing iced lemon water in the summers.
More recently, lemons have taken on a new meaning for me. Back in 2016, I spent some time on the Greek island of Crete. I arrived at night, so much of the town was shrouded in darkness, but the first thing I heard was the ocean. The next thing I noticed was the most amazing scent in the air that was both familiar, but at the same time, I also knew that I’d never smelled before. The next day, I realized there were lemon trees planted along the street where I was staying.
Nowadays, I will grab a lemon from the fridge, and although it’s not the same, I am reminded of that time.
When I was releasing these films, this was the one I got the most feedback on. People were connecting with this film in the same kind of the way it connected with me and were recalling their own memories of far off travels where they had found their own lemon trees and faraway seas.