I say a prayer for Palestine
Reading
I love this own about love
On the train I am and thinking about this poem
MICRO AGGRESSIONS
This is a series of poems that can be read in full here.
Abdul Ali
#9
On the day of your interview a full itinerary is prepared. Jokingly, you wonder
if you should have requested potty breaks. Never has your day been this structured.
About six or seven hours of back-to-back meetings. During lunch you meet the only
Black faculty member in English, who is leaving. You don’t think anything
of it except that the coincidence is more than ironic. You try to make small talk.
You want to gauge if there is any coded language from the “sista”
that says Get Out. Do not succumb to this Sunken Place. Instead,
you get an unexpected quiz during lunch from the Black faculty member.
“How will you as a Black man teach these privileged kids
how to read Black literature as universal?” Before you can respond, she cuts you off
It’s a blessing
Day 3 of GloPoWriMo and I promise the last one from Lucile Clifton ( for now!).
And this poem, I just love the tone, the softness which for me mirrors the moving of the boats out with the tide into the deep waters.
The smooth cruise of wood on water is a the sight to behold. But there is love here and a turning away from fear and a floating off into the future with hope.
This is not about boats this is a blessing, a wish on how to live our lives. And I totally buy into it with an open heart.
To keep that innocence, to keep that hope within our hearts against the odds, against our day to day struggles is a gift. Is a blessing.
my kissmaking hand
I’m sticking with Lucille Clifton today for day 2 of GloPoWriMo because I don’t think I read enough of her. I don’t think anyone can read enough of Lucille Clifton.
I came to her writing late and I’m not going to beat myself up to catch up. I’m going to savour every poem I read of Clifton’s as I don’t believe her poetry, her words should be rushed.
Clifton’s words have the ability to live in the bones of a person and that’s where I want them to lodge and not let go.
So today I share ‘cutting greens’ because of this poem’s ‘kissmaking’ – nature and humans as one.
Saturday Mornings
When I was growing up, I loved Saturday mornings.
No school, even though I loved school. I had the whole weekend ahead of me with all that time to create.
It started off well, as dad would bring us breakfast in bed. It would be crackers and jam. I’ve written before about this special ritual and how I took it as a sign of love from my dad; him the strict Trinidadian who showed his roar more times that his smile.
After breakfast, we could get up and play in our bedroom, keeping the noise down as mum and dad had a lie in. I would create the magic wishing chair from Enid Blyton’s books. I would fly away to all these magical lands, where I’d meet welcoming characters and interesting animals who couldn’t wait to get to know me. With them I was the main attraction. They listened to my stories and cheered me on as I went on adventures into the forest or up a mountain. There was no place my imagination couldn’t take me.
And then I grew up. Dad died, my whole life changed and I put away my dolls and adventures as I attempted to traverse the rough terrain of middle school as the only black girl there. Only black, and fat girl there who had her period and was seen as an oddity at best!
More stories there to tell. But this morning, this Saturday morning, I wake with this same sense of expansive time ahead of me to create. To crave out my own adventures on my own terms. And this feeling brings me a whole heap of joy and excitement. As I can’t go wrong if I’m feeding my creativity; turning up to the page open.
I haven’t had crackers and jam this morning but the thought of it is making my mouth water. I’ve got the ingredients in ( cream crackers and cherry jam). I’d have to make them myself as I’ve got no one to make them for me to serve me in bed. But even that thought doesn’t dampen my spirits because I have the time and space to choose. I have the privilege and luxury to stretch out the decision around what I do or be next.
I’m obsessed with how creativity works. I’m obsessed with how my creativity works. This is what I wrote in my visual journal this morning. And it landed in my core. In my core centre. This is honesty. This makes me smile. This what I will continue to explore, for a lifetime.
Reading Poetry (ish)
As I mentioned earlier in the month, reading and writing/ writing and reading go hand in hand. As I’ve tasked myself with a poem a day this month, I’ve also tasked myself with reading poetry and wider as it all feeds into the creative process.
Dal Kular, a dear friend and awesome imagineer, brought Foluke Taylor and their writings to my attention. I’ve been taken by Foluke’s writing around creativity and repetition so when Dal mentioned the book, Unruly Therapeutic, I knew I had to pick this book up and read it. And I’m so glad I have done just that ( well still reading it in fact!).
This is a hybrid, break down the structures kind of book in terms of how it’s written but also how it centres the Black woman’s experience. It’s music to my ears on so many levels. More so in being real, and allowing the thoughts and concepts presented to meander. To double back and repeat. There’s even a music playlist at the end go each chapter as an indication of what Foluke was listening to while the book was under construction.
I’ll return here with a review of length, but for now I just wanted to mark the reading of this text and a recommendation to get out and buy your own copy, as I’m not lending mine out!
Reading Poetry Too
Writing comes from reading, and reading is the finest teacher of how to write.
Annie Proulx
April is National Poetry Month. Yes and as I’ve mentioned a good time to write poetry. But for me writing and reading/ reading and writing goes hand in hand.
Not only am I inspired by other people’s words, I’m invited into other worlds, internal and external worlds. Possibilities around structure, themes, ideas and voices are opened up for me.
Reading feeds my soul. Something I forget from time to time when things go awry ( I love that word ‘awry’. I first came to this word through Lucille Clifton’s poem, ‘Signs’).
You see what reading can do to my writing? Introduce new vocabulary. Expand my horizons. Make me smile.
So along with the writing this month, I’ll be reading poetry. I usual read at least one poem a day, after signing up to Poetry Daily , a few years ago now and not unsubscribing as I have in the past.
Add to that one poem a day, collections of poems, whole book collections and then you’ve got yourself a sweet honey pot of inspiration and ideas and joy.
So look out for the poetry I’ll be reading and sharing here over this coming month.
Today, I dive into Katie Marya’s debut collection, Sugar Work, which came to my notice through Poetry Daily, with her poem titled, ‘A Response to the 2018 IPCC Report’.What I loved about this poem was how issues about the environment through the report were being looked at from a slanted angle. Through our bodies and babies and families and friends. How in order to see what we are doing to the planet it has to come to our doorsteps, our bodies first. But of course we are all connected.
I’ll let you know what I think as I go on with Marya’s collection. I’m looking forward to diving in.
Living Wild Studios 