The heat of autumn
The heat of autumn
Since I’m her baby
I still tend to see myself as an extension of her
Can be catalogued in the ways that I see myself through the lens of her existence
See, I came from Shari’s scar
From a sleepy town and
A tomboy like Scout
Built by her personality
And the corners of Klagg and Girard
East Trenton had me skipping school, too
And astounding teachers
Still I surpassed the beliefs of others
I am a merely a reflection of her
I was scrolling through the blog on Sunday night and realized that I’ve posted a lot of Angelou. Coincidentally, I’ve been waiting to share this piece for a while. This poem is a testament to the power of short poems. Look at the imagery and sound that she managed to
I hope you all enjoy it!
Roll off your tongue
To grace this eager ebon ear.
Doubt and fear,
Whisper and shout
Should be natural enemies
You make them the closest friends.
You mumble explanations as you go about your favorite activities
While I shout and admonish the sheer daredevil behavior
You whisper shhhh as your great great grandmother sleeps
But shout at the sight of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse
It is a cycle that we perpetuate daily
And while my voice gets tired
My heart swells in the shadow of your smile. In the beauty of your hugs and the largesse of your heart.
I fell in love with storytelling at the feet of one of my great grandmothers. Her ability to weave a story was probably my first experience with literature. With that being said, the allure of crafting my own literature, my own stories is something that I believe flows through my blood.
I recently read something from one of my favorite authors and she said that writing the story is easy part. For me, that’s the major problem. I craft all of these storylines and bits of dialogue but sitting down and committing to an entire story is where I fall apart.This year, I have started no less than three pieces and have yet to finish any of them. When I realized that I went back to some of my previous pieces and began to examine them. Trying to see if they were viable or needed to be scrapped.
Part of the problem seems to be me. When I get an idea, I am devoted to it until I think I have it figured out. As a creative writing student, I was forced to explore these ideas and to ultimately decide whether they could work. Now it all falls to me. And although I am not as busy as any other writer, I find it difficult to juggle all of my other interests and obligations with my desire to write prose.
So I’m going back to some of the lessons that I gained in grad school. I’m digging out my craft books and trying to stick to my writing routine…but maybe I should just start writing. And not stop until I’m done.
My apologies, the previous post was the unfinished version of this piece. It was inspired by the link at the end of the post.
For a very long time, writing has been a balm for me. It has helped me survive enormous losses and almost always helped me navigate the emotional minefield of life. Well reading poetry has done the same. We all read for different reasons but I read to be entertained, to learn new things, and to be inspired. When I first began reading poetry, I didn’t have any of the hang ups that people normally associate because I was so young.
We first met when I was a young girl. It was the beauty of the words that I connected with. Later, when I needed help navigating the whirlwind of teenage emotions, when I was grieving losses as minor as cutting my hair and as major as lost friends poetry was there.
Time and again, it has helped me to navigate my way through life. I feel the same comfort and creative spark from reading and watching poetry as I do from writing it.
Smart girls(and guys) read poetry and write it too!
For a very long time, writing has been a balm for me. It has helped me survive enormous losses and almost always helped me navigate the emotional minefield of life.
We first met when I was a young girl. It was the beauty of
It has helped me when I was cloistered in teenage emotions, when I was grieving
Smart girls read poetry and smart girls write it too!
This poem is everything to me. I am taking yet another class and this poem was one that I selected and used in my introduction. Nikki Giovanni’s way with words is astounding. Her writing is all the things that I associate with the word “poetry.” In this piece, she paints a portrait so clear, not just of being a black woman in America but she also weaves in this beautiful history of this country and how America essentially built itself after freedom. Just beautiful! I hope you all enjoy.
Have a great weekend!
You fold into me
Blurring the lines between
My soul and yours.
I am pouring out my emotions
Only for you to usurp them
Collecting my hurts for later use.
We are floating towards infinity
Meeting in the same point and place
Circling back to each other again and again.