Your Favorite Poems

[Kätzchen]

[Kätzchen]

"This is the kind of friend you are-
Without making me realize my soul's anguished history,
You slip into my house at night,
And while I am sleeping,
You silently carry off all my suffering
and sordid past in your beautiful hands,"
— Hafiz of Shiraz

[Vincent]

Like You
Roque Dalton, 1935 - 1975
translated by Jack Hirschman

Like you I
love love, life, the sweet smell
of things, the sky-blue
landscape of January days.

And my blood boils up
and I laugh through eyes
that have known the buds of tears.

I believe the world is beautiful
and that poetry, like bread, is for everyone.

And that my veins don’t end in me
but in the unanimous blood
of those who struggle for life,
love,
little things,
landscape and bread,
the poetry of everyone.

[Kätzchen]

Here is a few excerpts from an essay written by Audre Lorde, which was first published in Chrysalis: A Magazine of Female Culture (no. 3; 1977) and is featured in Audre Lorde's book Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches (Feminist Theory).






Poetry Is Not A Luxury *

~ Audre Lorde

The quality of light by which we scrutinize our lives has a direct bearing upon the product which we live, and upon the changes which we hope to bring about through those lives. It is within this light that we form those ideas by which we pursue our magic and make it realized. This is poetry as illumination, for it is through poetry that we give name to those ideas which are -- until the poem -- nameless and formless, about to be birthed, but already felt. That distillation of experience from which true poetry springs births thought as dream births concept, as feelings births idea, as knowledge births (preceeds) understanding.

As we learn to bear the intimacy of scrutiny and to flourish within it, as we learn to use the products of that scrutiny for power within our living, those fears which rule our lives and form our silences begin to lose their control over us.

For each of us as women, there is a dark place within, where hidden and growing our true spirit rises (…).

These places of possibility within ourselves are dark because they are ancient and hidden; they have survived and grown strong through that darkness.

For women, then, poetry is not a luxury. It is a vital necessity of our existence. It forms the quality of light within which we predicate our hopes and dreams toward survival and change, first made into language, then into more tangible action. Poetry is the way we give name to the nameless so it can be thought. The farthest horizons of our hopes and fears are cobbled by our poems, carved from the rock experiences of our daily lives (pp. 36-37).

[Kätzchen]

The other day, I came across an exhibit of poetry, which was very inspiring to me. The poetry exhibit was put together by The Poetry Project. This particular poem was written for the Poetry Project, back in 2008, and when I stood in the alcove of the gallery, where this giant wall poster with the poetry was hanging, I read it to myself and felt heard. Like the poet, not even knowing me or others like me, heard me. His poem felt so validating, in that I have grown into my own beautiful self over time and although it has taken years for me to internalize the notion that I do not need anyone to complete me, I felt like it was a watershed moment, the moment I read the poet's poem. I like it a lot because it feels authentic. It is authentic. I am authentic all on my own, because I am complete on my own. In the words of the poet: "My heart needs no one to feel complete."


Here is the poem I found at the poetry exhibit:

You are mighty, a force unknown.
Your heart needs no one to feel complete.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Rinse.
Repeat.

Author/Poet: James McInerney (2008).