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Conversations About Home (at a deportation centre) – Warsan Shire and Ugly
Poem: “Conversations About Home (at a deportation centre)” Poet: Warsan Shire Well, I think home spat me out, the blackouts and curfews like tongue against loose tooth. God, do you know how difficult it is, to talk about the day your own city dragged you by the hair, past the old prison, past the school…
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Jilted – Sylvia Plath
Poem: “Jilted” Poet: Sylvia Plath My thoughts are crabbed and sallow, My tears like vinegar, Or the bitter blinking yellow Of an acetic star. Tonight the caustic wind, love, Gossips late and soon, And I wear the wry-faced pucker of The sour lemon moon. While like an early summer plum, Puny, green, and tart,…
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This Is Just To Say – William Carlos Williams
Poem: “This Is Just To Say” Poet: William Carlos Williams, 1883 – 1963 I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for breakfast Forgive me they were delicious so sweet and so cold Why this poem (in one line): I first read this poem as part of my…
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The Fish by Elizabeth Bishop
Poem: “The Fish” Poet: Elizabeth Bishop, 1911 – 1979 I caught a tremendous fish and held him beside the boat half out of water, with my hook fast in a corner of his mouth. He didn’t fight. He hadn’t fought at all. He hung a grunting weight, battered and venerable and homely. Here and…
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Like medicine after death
Like medicine after death.
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And Still I Rise – Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may tread me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like…
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Run now – run away
To think that in 2014 the question “so who takes care of the kids then” is asked to women (and women alone) and “then how will he manage?” is asked regarding the father being on his own with his son or daughter (questioning his role as a parent) – saddens me in inexplicable ways. That…
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When in doubt
When in doubt Draw your heart out, The lines lead you to answers…
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Emmanuel Moses in Amsterdam
Location: Broodhuys Only a poet could go through pain, heartache, agony and say, “it was beautiful.” Only a poet. Thank you Emmanuel.
