You do not know our names; only our shapes
and gender that sit, darkly, in living rooms,
in kitchens that smell of hands working
on making heavy things light.
You do not know what ages of angst and sorrow
have filled us with: a pinch of salt, a strange aroma,
a different seasoning you cannot quite name
but it sits on the buds of your tongues
waiting for a title, a moment, to reach out and grab you…
to demand you use this new way of noticing us.
You, who want something of us and yet destroy
all evidence of what you think is there, might be there,
is there, but is hidden in the dough folded over on itself,
and stirred in with vegetables and broths and crunchy bits
that crack your sensitive molars…you, cannot quell all our light.
Fuming in the ashes of campfires, brick ovens, coal stoves,
and sputter gas rings, is an electrical charge
that was just waiting to be discovered
and might, perhaps,burn you.
My aggressive need for vengeance has burned itself out;
replaced by warm glow of knowing destiny will have its rise
and now I know why our oldest ladies smile:
They know, they knew, their empty spaces
filled with satisfying light.
Author notes
“You want the witch…I want whatever power her Grandmother might have taught her….even monsters are given fair hand!”
“You see, I can fill you up. You are now all of us….drenched with Light…strong enough to buy our vengeance.”
From, The Orphans Tales: In The Night Garden
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Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 9 of 9
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Strong thought provoking penning poet! Some of those lines lept from the page and have implanted themselves in me brain! I enjoyed this very much, you have to love when vengeance burns itself out! My pleasure to read
~Tia
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Ty, Tia, This book has awakened something in me... Yes, it is a woman's book and sometimes the slant is seemingly against brothers..but I do not mean it so..it is an expression of that relationship here down on earth and how this earth life has hurt women betimes!
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I once told a group of men (at work) that I knew precisely why they called all women "Honey", "Baby", Sweetheart", etc.
It is simply so they don't mistakenly refer to us by the wrong name...& imminently perish from our withering glances.
Ahhh, what a poem this is...wrought by a loving hand, whose words I have missed so deeply. You have always fed my soul, my Sister. When you go, I feast myself within your pantry of stockpiled goods, but ohhh, I long for the sacred smells of your freshly~baked bread, too. 
How wonderful you are. How precious, how very dear. 
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I think the most poignant line in this poem is this: "...My aggressive need for vengeance has burned itself out..." You see, there is a difference in me that has taken place. I no longer need to tear the head off a raging bull, I need just sing to it.
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Amen. It keeps our china intact, does it not???
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every word is filled with light and strength....and so much is waiting to be discovered...
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ty, nilav. The book I am reading has spawned art and poetry and thoughts and growth.
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amazing!!!
this is fantastic! really really really great job! this is so powerful, i really loved it. wonderful, fantastic. great job.
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ty troubled. We women...we have so much to learn about who we really are and why we are meant to be here. I am just catching a glimpse of it. Ty for your kind comments.
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