Greetings fellow poets and writers! Today my poem marries two wonderful prompts,
Anmol’s Black History Month at Dverse and Devereaux’s Tuesday’s Writing Prompt at the GDG, I urge you to spend some time with the writing of some amazing poets celebrating this significant month at both sites.
A favourite quote introduces my poem, followed by an inspiration at Dverse, I chose Audre Lorde’s, A Woman Speaks and wrap up with a little tweak on the GDG prompt phrase “he shredded her dreams in dignified air of victory”.
“it is the fate of a woman long to be patient and silent, to wait like a ghost that is speechless till some questioning voice dissolves the spell of its silence” ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow~
If you encounter a day
when you run out of words
out of frustration or disillusion
don’t fret but Rejoice!
For in silence a lot can be resolved.
Occasionally it is beneficial to remain quiet
against the thundering wind
and violent outbursts of undignified words.
So gaze with calm dignity,
subdue the show of emotion
that blisters and chaffs
through words hurled carelessly.
It is in the quiet that the heart
But when your silence is no longer honoured
with dignity and compassion
when it is trampled and sullied
it is time to speak up
with strength and wisdom
and stand together against discrimination
for underneath the skin that covers us
we are all human
underneath this skin she is proud to wear
with warm tones and textures
She is fully woman
no different from you
underneath that skin
she is wholly human
made of flesh and bone
coloured in this rich tapestry
I stand with her, let no one
shred her dreams in a false dignified air of victory
Audre Lorde’s, A Woman Speaks:
Moon marked and touched by sun
my magic is unwritten
but when the sea turns back
it will leave my shape behind.
I seek no favor
untouched by blood
unrelenting as the curse of love
permanent as my errors
or my pride
I do not mix
love with pity
nor hate with scorn
and if you would know me
look into the entrails of Uranus
where the restless oceans pound.
I do not dwell
within my birth nor my divinities
who am ageless and half-grown
and still seeking
witches in Dahomey
wear me inside their coiled cloths
as our mother did
I have been woman
for a long time
beware my smile
I am treacherous with old magic
and the noon’s new fury
with all your wide futures
and not white.
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Trust you heart if the seas catch fire ~ e.e cummings