Poetry


The Mother
by
Gwendolyn Brooks

Abortions will not let you forget.
You remember the children you got that you did not get,
The damp small pulps with a little or with no hair,
The singers and workers that never handled the air.
You will never neglect or beat
Them, or silence or buy with a sweet.
You will never wind up the sucking-thumb
Or scuttle off ghosts that come.
You will never leave them, controlling your luscious sigh,
Return for a snack of them, with gobbling mother-eye.
I have heard in the voices of the wind the voices of my dim killed
children.
I have contracted. I have eased
My dim dears at the breasts they could never suck.
I have said, Sweets, if I sinned, if I seized
Your luck
And your lives from your unfinished reach,
If I stole your births and your names,
Your straight baby tears and your games,
Your stilted or lovely loves, your tumults, your marriages, aches,
and your deaths,
If I poisoned the beginnings of your breaths,
Believe that even in my deliberateness I was not deliberate.
Though why should I whine,
Whine that the crime was other than mine?--
Since anyhow you are dead.
Or rather, or instead,
You were never made.
But that too, I am afraid,
Is faulty: oh, what shall I say, how is the truth to be said?
You were born, you had body, you died.
It is just that you never giggled or planned or cried.
Believe me, I loved you all.
Believe me, I knew you, though faintly, and I loved, I loved you
All.
From A Street in Bronzeville by Gwendolyn Brooks, published by Harper & Brothers. © 1945 by Gwendolyn Brooks. Used with permission. All rights reserved

Alone
by Maya Angelou


Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don't believe I'm wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.
There are some millionaires
With money they can't use
Their wives run round like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They've got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.
But nobody
No, nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Now if you listen closely
I'll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
'Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Destiny
by Rosario Castellanos

Destiny
We kill what we love. What’s left
Was never alive.
No one else is close. What is forgotten,
What else is absent or less, hurts no one else.
We kill what we love. Enough of drawing a choked breath
Through someone else’s lung!
There is not air enough for both of us. And the earth will not hold
Both our bodies
And our ration of hope is small
And pain cannot be shared.
Man is an animal of solitudes,
A deer that bleeds as it flees
With an arrow in its side.
Ah, but hatred with its insomniac
Glass eyes; its attitude
Of menace and repose.
The deer goes to drink and a tiger
Is reflected in the water.
The deer drinks the water and the image. And becomes
-before he is devoured – (accomplice, fascinated)
his enemy.
We give life only to what we hate.

Monday, October 22, 2007

journal entry - three pomes

The three poems: The Mother, Alone and Destiny writhen by three women. Poems: By Gwendolyn Brooks, Maya Angelou and Rosario Castellanos respectively talk about what it is to be a women ,all three poems are strong on facts and emotional it would be hard not to be affected by them. Take for example” The Mother” it talks about a woman who had more than one abortion however she cant forget any of those babies who as she says can be a singers or ordinary workers she cant forgot at the fact that she prevented these babies from ever being breastfeed patted on their head, disciplined of bribed
with sweets not only that she is responsible for the facts that these babies will never experience love, marriage or pain she is responsible for them never breathing or ever dying. She asked herself… “Why should I whine that the crime was other than min?”
The woman therefore admits that she alone was responsible for the abortions of her babies. However, she does not say why she was force to have abortions. She asks these babies to believe her that she was not totally set determinate pregnancies.
“Believe that in my deliberateness I was not deliberate”. She asked them to believe her that although she knows them “faintly” she loved all of them.
I never imagined that one can write about so many details about the babies that are aborted. I always imagined that a woman would regret doing having an abortion but that there would be just one deep, deep pain for her. Certainly as a woman and as a mother I sympathize with this woman who was only mother to be. It is my good luck than I never had to experience these tip (kind) of pain. I always expected to be a mother I m happy that my expectations came true.

As to the second poem “Alone “ By Maya Angelou my cousin’s life comes to mind she is a sole breadwinner for herself and for her children. Many times she talks to me about being in the terrible financial situation ,she is working over time but can’t have enough money to pay her own bills. My cousin wishes just like in the poem that she could find some one who could help her financial. She is in a total despair because as I’m concerned it is not only financial trouble that she has deal with.
In her numbers talk to me. I came to the conclusion that she is too lonely. Many times she tolled me how she longs for another close human been who would helpfully to face her everyday duties. It is the universal condition of human beings desire to how contacts, and help from another human been. Whether is one poor or reach ones need to be connected with another human been.

In the poem “Destiny” by Rosario Castellanos the woman is totally depressed. She sees no hope for herself, her pain is unbearable. She wishes that there could be another human been perhaps a man who could share her pain with her that suffocates her. Not sooner she thinks that, she becomes convinced that nobody could unburden her of her pain. No one would even hear her call for help, because she decides that there is no point in her asking for help she tells herself “Man is an animal of solitudes”.
I think that the reality is that man i.e. everyone should try to be connected with other human beings.
As to her refrain “we kill what we love may possible mean that we destroy our self while we should love ourselves.
“ We kill what we love” may mean that we kill another person although we love that person it would be great if someone could explain this refrain to me or the reference to deer in the tiger in these poem.
In any case I sympathize with this woman too.

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