Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts

Friday, May 14, 2021

[poems] Soft science - Franny Choi 2019

 

[this book reminds me poetry is such a gift in my life. How can Franny use the cyborg as a vessel to take us so deep into the human experience.]


from TURING TEST

//do you believe you have consciousness 

sometimes / when the sidewalk / opens my knee / i think / please / please let me / remember this


from ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

When the woman scrapes 

a sample of my skin into her petri dish, it's too late

to stop smiling. Butch who corrects my hip

at the crosswalk to convince me I'm no mollusk, thank you.


from AFTERLIFE

Should hunger for the fish that ate

the fish that are the plankton

that took his once-body dust

into its gullet. The boy whose body 

was first to enter mine is breathing

from too many mouths now.

 

from & O BRIGHT STAR OF DISASTER, I HAVE BEEN LIT

outside the bathroom. i pick up the accent

of whoever i'm speaking to. nobody wants

to fuck a sponge. nobody wants to crush

on a ghost. o sure, we all do it anyway


from CHI

Wow! Can you show me how to [stay in one piece; stay clean; speak in a straight line; speak so others listen; speak before someone else fills my mouth]?


from I SWIPED RIGHT ON THE BORG

until I was laid flat. (Not that I'm opposed to a little pressure, someone to remind me what I'm worth.) The Borg's favorite number: zero, of course. Favorite angle: 180. Favorite film: the strip of black after it's over.


from PERIHELION: A HISTORY OF TOUCH

No moon in sight, so I howled at the exit sign instead. Red runes, electric. Telling an old story of escape, of wind, a wide cold.



Friday, March 26, 2021

[poems] catalog of unabashed gratitude - ross gay 2015

 photo of ross gay

[ross gay has such a unique talent of being able to string different scenes and thoughts together in a coherent and beautiful way - moving from one thought to another seamlessly. Here are a few of my favorite poems and phrases. And I dream of one day being able to write about my garden as welcomingly as ross gay writes about his orchard.]

to the fig tree on 9th and christian 

feet

ode to sleeping in my clothes

c'mon!

"beneath which you are now too the canopy of a fig its arms pulling the September sun to it." - to the fig tree on 9th and christian 

"Feel the small song in my chest swell and my coat glisten and twitch." - becoming a horse

"when his loneliness dragged him to a carpeted room in an apartment building in Chinatown" - sharing with the ants

"marching across the long plains of the calf and the meticulously unnamed zone behind the knee over the hamstring into use your imagination for Chrissakes but I will tell you it is dark there and sweet" - sharing with the ants

"the way Myself had made unwittingly a habit of slathering mortar everywhere, almost by accident, for fear of what might forever slip in and be felt;"- the opening

"for jumping and grabbing at once like this a soft thing is hard be gentle she said emerging from the dugout beneath the mulberry tree" - to the mulberry tree

"I can't stop my gratitude, which includes, dear reader, you, for staying here with me, for moving your lips just so as I speak. Here is a cup of tea. I have spooned honey into it." - catalog of unabashed gratitude

"thank you the ancestor who loved you before she knew you by smuggling seeds into her braid for the long journey, who loved you before he knew you by putting a walnut tree in the ground, who loved you before she knew you by not slaughtering the land" - catalog of unabashed gratitude

"I want so badly to rub the sponge of gratitude over every last thing, including you, which, yes, awkward, the suds in your ear and armpit, the little sparkling gems slipping into your eyes." - catalog of unabashed gratitude


Friday, February 26, 2021

[poems] homie - Danez Smith 2020

 

[I loved most of the poems in this collection. Danez Smith is such a gem. Where I've found versions of the poems online, they are hyperlinked. Sometimes they are different versions from what's printed in this collection.]

Poems: 

in lieu of a poem, i'd like to say

sometimes i wish i felt the side effects

    "you stare at fangs long enough, even fangs pink with your own blood look soft."

say it with your whole black mouth 

white niggas

what was said on the bus stop

i didn't like you when i met you

    "it was just my reflection i couldn't stand. i saw it. the way you would break me into a better me."

ii. ending with nothing

    "i counted the things used to end a boy but forgot the boy himself."

undectectable

    "i am the most important species in my body."

C.R.E.A.M.

happy hour

    "sometimes with nothing to say, just to sit on the phone & be alive together for a while"

my poems

trees!

my nig

    "there is already so much trying to end us so let it not include our hands today, let us not be dead"

acknowledgements

    "& how many times have you loved me without my asking? how often have i loved a thing because you loved it? including me"

Monday, December 28, 2020

[quotes] The Selected Works of Audre Lorde - Audre Lorde, Roxane Gay (ed.) 2020

  


"For there are no new ideas. There are only new ways of making them feel - of examining what those ideas feel like being lived on Sunday morning at 7A.M., after brunch, during wild love, making war, giving birth, mourning our dead - while we suffer the old longings, battle the old warnings and fears of being silent and impotent and alone, while we taste new possibilities and strengths." - Poetry Is Not a Luxury

"And where the words of women are crying to be heard, we must each of us recognize our responsibility to seek those words out, to read them and share them and examine them in their pertinence to our lives. That we not hide behind the mockeries of separations that have been imposed upon us and which so often we accept as our own. For instance, 'I can't possibly teach Black women's writing - their existence is so different from mine.' Yet how many years have you spent teaching Plato and Shakespeare and Proust? Or another, 'She's a white woman and what could she possibly have to say to me?' Or, 'She's a lesbian, what would my husband say, or my chairman?' Or again, 'This woman write of her sons and I have no children.' And all the other endless ways in which we rob ourselves of ourselves and each other." - The Transformation of Silence into Language and Action 

"If white american feminist theory need not deal with the differences between us, and the resulting difference in our oppressions, then how do you deal with the fact that the women who clean your houses and tend your children while you attend conferences on feminist theory are, for the most part, poor women and women of Color? What is the theory behind racist feminism?" - The Master's Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master's House

"If I participate, knowingly or otherwise, in my sister's oppression and she calls me on it, to answer her anger with my own only blankets the substance of our exchange with reaction. It wastes energy. And yes, it is very difficult to stand still and listen to another woman's voice delineate an agony I do not share, or one to which I myself have contributed." - The Uses of Anger

"I am a lesbian woman of Color whose children eat regularly because I work in a university. If their full bellies make me fail to recognize my commonality with a woman of Color whose children do not eat because she cannot find work, or who has no children because her insides are rotted from home abortions and sterilizations; if I fail to recognize the lesbian who chooses not to have children, the woman who remains closeted because her homophobic community is her only life support, the woman who chooses silence instead of another death, the woman who is terrified lest my anger trigger the explosion of hers; if I fail to recognize them as other faces of myself, then I am contributing not only to each of their oppressions but also to my own, and the anger which stands between us then must be used for clarity and mutual empowerment, not for evasion by guilt or for further separation. I am not free while any woman is unfree, even when her shackles are very different from my own. And I am not free as long as one person of Color remains chained. Nor is any one of you." - The Uses of Anger

"When I say I am a Black feminist, I mean I recognize that my power as well as my primary oppressions come as result of my Blackness as well as my womanness, and therefore my struggles on both these fronts are inseparable. When I say I am a Black Lesbian, I mean I am a woman whose primary focus of loving, physical as well as emotional, is directed to women. It does not mean I hate men." - I Am Your Sister

"There was a poster in the 1960s that was very popular: HE'S NOT BLACK, HE'S MY BROTHER! It used to infuriate me because it implied that the two were mutually exclusive - he couldn't be both brother and Black. Well, I do not want to be tolerated, nor misnamed. I want to be recognized. 

I am a Black Lesbian, and I am your sister." - I Am Your Sister

"We all have to die at least once. Making that death useful would be winning for me. I wasn't supposed to exist anyway, not in any meaningful way in this fucked-up white boys' world. I want desperately to live, and I'm ready to fight for that living even if I die shortly. Just writing those words down snaps everything I want to do into a neon clarity." - A Burst of Light

"And first off I identified as a Black Feminist Lesbian poet, although it felt unsafe, which is probably why I had to do it. I explained that I identified myself as such because if there was one other Black Feminist Lesbian poet in isolation somewhere within the reach of my voice, I wanted her to know she was not alone." - A Burst of Light

"Tomorrow belongs to those of us who conceive of it as belonging to everyone, who lend the best of ourselves to it, and with joy." - A Burst of Light

"The first people who interviewed me in white coats from behind a computer were only interested in my health-care benefits and proposed method of payment. Those crucial facts determined what kind of plastic ID card I would be given, and without a plastic ID card, no one at all was allowed upstairs to see any doctor, as I was told by the uniformed, pistoled guards at all the stairwells." - A Burst of Light

"I work, I love, I rest, I see and learn. And I report. These are my givens. Not sureties, but a firm belief that whether or not living them with joy prolongs my life, it certainly enables me to pursue the objectives of that life with a deeper and more efficient clarity." - A Burst of Light

And my favorite poems from the collection in these selected works: 

If You Come Softly

Bloodbirth

Martha

On a night of the full moon

The American Cancer Society Or There Is More Than One Way To Skin a Coon

Love Poem

Revolution is One Form of Social Change

Power

Between Ourselves

To the Poet Who Happens to Be Black and the Black Poet Who Happens to Be a Woman

Thaw

The Politics of Addiction


Saturday, December 26, 2020

[poems] milk and honey - rupi kaur 2015









the very thought of you 

has my legs spread apart

like an easel with a canvas

begging for art


"like your mouth has the gift of reading and i'm your favorite book. find your favorite page in the soft spot between my legs and read it carefully."


"deeply hooded with conviction

the rivers of punjab

flow through my bloodstream so"


for you to see beauty here

does not mean

there is beauty in me

it means there is beauty rooted

so deep within you

you can't help but

see it everywhere

Wednesday, October 16, 2019

[poems] Pillow Thoughts - Courtney Peppernell 2017

Image result for pillow thoughts Image result for courtney peppernell

this is the first poetry book I've read. here are some of my favorites.

I know what it feels like
for my heart to ache
and my soul to cry.
I know what it feels like
for things to be so hard
it takes everything to get by.
I know what it feels like
when nothing seems steady
and for things to derail.
I know what it feels like
to have person after person
cause your heart to fail.
But one day I hope you see
the love you give yourself
heals all parts eventually.
Until finally she walks in
and sets your heart free
and reminds you why
everyone else
wasn't meant to be.


But life is not about half doing. You cannot half love, or half
accept, or half live. It's about giving everything you have.
When you are old and worn, do you really want to look back
and say you gave the bare minimum? You owe yourself more
than that.

Some things will never be fair for everyone. This is the saddest
realization that the universe can teach. So if they are fair for
you, remember to be grateful.

Even on bad days and cold nights where it feels it has all but
gone. You still have purpose. It has been inside you since the
day you were born. A tiny little firefly born from the light of
the universe. There is a world of reason inside you, an entire
library of thoughts and emotions. For all the moments that
steal your hope, just remember the universe intended for you
to happen. You have purpose.