Sep 09 2008
∞
Sep 08 2008
∞
“ Daughter, take this amulet,
tie it with cord and caring.
I’ll make you a chain of coral and pearl
to glow on your neck. I’ll dress you nobly.
A gold clasp too – fine, without flaw,
to keep with you always.
When you bathe, sprinkle perfume, and weave your hair in braids,
string jasmine for the counterpane.
Wear your clothes like a bride,
anklets for your feet, bracelets for your arms…
Don’t forget rosewater,
don’t forget henna for the palms of your hands…
tie it with cord and caring.
I’ll make you a chain of coral and pearl
to glow on your neck. I’ll dress you nobly.
A gold clasp too – fine, without flaw,
to keep with you always.
When you bathe, sprinkle perfume, and weave your hair in braids,
string jasmine for the counterpane.
Wear your clothes like a bride,
anklets for your feet, bracelets for your arms…
Don’t forget rosewater,
don’t forget henna for the palms of your hands…
— Poem to her Daughter, Mwana Kupona binti Msham
Aug 11 2008
∞
Mahmoud Darwish, 1941-2008
“Myself, I do not know
so that I shall not lose it. I am what I am.
I am my other, a duality
gaining resonance in between speech and gesture.
Were I to write poetry I would have said:
I am two in one,
like the wings of a swallow ,
content with bringing good omen
when spring is late.”
From Edward Said: A Contrapuntal Reading
Jun 05 2008
∞
“ I must be hurting
other people’s feelings -
having the disposition
to express my intentions
clearly.
other people’s feelings -
having the disposition
to express my intentions
clearly.
— To Lily Magnolia, Akitsu Ei
May 14 2008
∞
“ Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
— excerpted from Maya Angelou’s Phenomenal Woman.
May 02 2008
∞
“
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore—
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over—
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
— Harlem, Langston Hughes
Apr 29 2008
∞
“ Go away girl, go away
and let me pack my dreams
Now where did I put those yesteryears
made up with broken seams
Where shall I sweep the pieces
my God they still look new
There’s a taxi waiting at the door
but there’s only room for you
and let me pack my dreams
Now where did I put those yesteryears
made up with broken seams
Where shall I sweep the pieces
my God they still look new
There’s a taxi waiting at the door
but there’s only room for you
— Goodbye S.S., Spike Milligan
Apr 25 2008
∞
“ I do not resemble your other lovers, my lady
should another give you a cloud
I give you rain
Should he give you a lantern, I
will give you the moon
Should he give you a branch
I will give you the trees
And if another gives you a ship
I shall give you the journey.
should another give you a cloud
I give you rain
Should he give you a lantern, I
will give you the moon
Should he give you a branch
I will give you the trees
And if another gives you a ship
I shall give you the journey.
— love compared, Nizar Qabbani
Apr 22 2008
∞
“
this is great, I just wrote two
poems I didn’t like.
there is a trash can on this
computer.
I just moved the poems
over
and dropped them into
the trash can.
they’re gone forever, no
paper, no sound, no
fury, no placenta
and then
just a clean screen
awaits you.
it’s always better
to reject yourself before
the editors do.
especially on a rainy
night like this with
bad music on the radio.
and now—
I know what you’re
thinking:
maybe he should have
trashed this
misbegotten one
also.
ha, ha, ha,
ha.
— the trash can, Charles Bukowski
