Shake

Let me take all of your inhibitions and shake them around till they chip into fine dust and blend with your fears, your happiness, your memories, and get lost till you can’t find them anymore. Let me absolve you of the pain, the guilt, the tension, the worry. The stuff I want to reach inside and and tear away. The stuff that makes you think your undeserving of love. Let me shake you up and when you don’t know what’s up or down I’d stop and I’d turn you and you’d see the man that I’d see because finally the puzzle would fit and you’d be whole.. not because of me, but because of you. The chains you’d tied into every bit of proof that you were worth nothing.. chained into rocks on the floor.. chained to the walls of your house, chained to the center of the earth.. I will cut away.. cut and cut and heat and pry away until you were free. I wouldn’t let you sleep afraid.. I wouldn’t let you sleep angry, upset, or lonely. Should your eyes close and the guilt eat up and try to hold you in your nightmares I’d wake you gently. A gentle shake for you to remember where you were. Let me jump and dance my feet over the things that fill you with fear till there is nothing left because the gravity and the vibration and the weight of me destroying the weight of your searching thoughts. Let me shake you. Let me shake you.

Thanks for reading! It’s been a long time since I’ve shared a piece of poetry with all of you. All this time I’ve been writing it everyday and yet it took me till now to share one. I used to try and share one once a week. I missed it. I hope you all enjoyed this and I would love to hear your thoughts!

-Till next time!

Joint Review: Milk and Honey + The Sun and Her Flowers

Milk and Honey by Rupi Kaur

My Rating: 4 Stars!

Cover Rating: 8 out of 10! I love the minimalist design of this cover. It matches perfectly the sort of illustrations found inside the book. It’s beautifully made

Publisher: Create Space

Publish Date: November 4th, 2014

Number of Pages: 204

Received: ebook purchase

Purchase: Amazon

Synopsis:

Rupi Kaur’s milk and honey, is a New York Times bestselling collection of poetry and prose about survival, the experience of violence, abuse, love, loss, and femininity.

The book is divided into four chapters, and each chapter serves a different purpose. Deals with a different pain. Heals a different heartache. milk and honey takes listeners through a journey of the most bitter moments in life and finds sweetness in them—because there is sweetness everywhere if you are just willing to look.

Favorite Poem:

I love this poem so much not truly because of what it says, but for the image it’s paired with. Something about it makes me feel at peace. It makes me feel like I just need to keep going and one day all will be ok.

Musings:

Milk and Honey was about losing someone and being hurt by the world and what it means to be a woman. The expectations we place for women’s bodies and how we are meant to use them. It makes me to think that a book like this exists. The reason that this was a 4 Star and not a 5 Star was because there were various parts that I couldn’t quite connect to and felt a bit general instead of something that was more unique as a sentiment.

The Sun and Her Flowers by Rupi Kaur

My Rating: 5 Stars!

Cover Rating: 8 out of 10! The cover is very fitting for the title. I like the artistic expression this cover shows. I really like it!

Publisher: Andrews McMeel Publishing

Publish Date: October 3rd, 2017

Number of Pages: 256

Received: ebook purchase

Purchase: Amazon

Synopsis:

From Rupi Kaur, the #1 New York Times bestselling author of milk and honey, comes her long-awaited second collection of poetry. A vibrant and transcendent journey about growth and healing. Ancestry and honoring one’s roots. Expatriation and rising up to find a home within yourself. Divided into five chapters and illustrated by Kaur, the sun and her flowers is a journey of wilting, falling, rooting, rising, and blooming. A celebration of love in all its forms. this is the recipe of life said my mother as she held me in her arms as i wept think of those flowers you plant in the garden each year they will teach you that people too must wilt fall root rise in order to bloom

Favorite Poems:

This poem brought tears to my eyes. It is beautiful because it gives ode to all who have come before. It is beautiful to imagine that your life is to live with all your might carrying the pride of the women that have lived and endured carrying you through everything. To make them happy so that they live through you.

This is another poem that saddened me. The best and worst of our lives seem to be terribly mirrored. In life and in death we gather together and in grief how are we able to always tell the difference?

Musings:

The Sun and Her Flowers is a much more mature collection then Milk and Honey. The Sun and Her Flowers is healing and thoughtful and written with culture and hope in mind. This collection is a celebration of living where milk and Honey lived with despair.

Both collections are written with the power, beauty, and strength of women in mind. They are the building up of women and the rejection of old thoughts that still cross societies mind to this day. It is the new generations version of progress without bringing anyone down, but solely picking people up.

These are feminist and righteous and beautiful. I greatly enjoyed these poetry collections.

Thanks for reading! If you haven’t already I would definitely recommend you read these two poetry collections. They are very insightful and wonderful. Let me know your thoughts down in the comments below!

-Till next time!

The Ones Without Emotion

We are the generation of the digital proletariat

working hard for every Like, comment, and LOL.

We aim for angles, Little slivers of things, anything to make us seem more or less than who we actually are.

We are the democratic the snowflakes the ones who hold hands and raise our phones to commemorate the wrongs we will no longer let pass.

We are the soldiers at war fighting, penning our 80 character’s, threading on our most social bird.

We are the ones who stare at seemingly white screens laughing internally and giving away nothing.

We are the web the trolls the memes and the vloggers our time is for the views for better or for worse.

We are the mindless and the valiente the hipsters the woke educators the tired jets.

We remember for as long as the world seems to care and once the next thing is up we take arms for our new affairs.

We are the hope filled, the loved, the gay, we are more than 1 and 0 colored in RGB.

We are the gamers the nerds and the thieves the ones who battle on our VR TV’s.

We are the new and we are the Grave. We will always be fighting and we will always be brave. We will always be connected and we will always know what’s up. We will never back down. We will never give up. We are the ones who will pen forever from our screens. We are the digital age. We will always fight for what’s ours. We will always be free.

Thanks so much for reading! This is the first poem I’ve posted on here for a good long while. I hope you all like it! Let me know your thoughts down in the comments below!

-Till next time!

Growth: A Poetry Review

Growth by Karin Cox

My Rating: 2.5 Stars

Received: Free ebook off amazon

Purchase: Amazon

Synopsis:

This collection of Cox’s finest poems—some previously published in anthologies around the world, others new; some rhyming, some free form—delivers beautiful sentiments, melancholy moments and some delightfully lyrical figurative language, all while charting the poet’s personal growth over several years.

While introspective, Cox’s work avoids self-obsession by interspersing political and broader global themes with the personal. What results is a whimsical anthology that brings to mind the challenges of just being human and fitting into a world that sometimes feels like a tight squeeze.

Musings:

I didn’t particularly enjoy this poetry collection. The poems didn’t speak to me and I just couldn’t seem to feel anything while I was reading. However there was one poem that did get my attention and that I enjoyed and I want to talk about that poem and why out of all of them this one was the one I liked the most.

Picture of my Niece

She sits—a grain of sand, a shadow on the beach,

life’s haul of shiny, flapping things before her feet,

with eyes that tumble like the sea to childish thoughts and innocence beyond the adult reach.

Her pointed finger, parted smile,

a jaunty hat cocked on her fair-curled head,

I gaze at her awhile,

and my thoughts linger, on the fish she pokes, so still and dead.

Yet she is so alive, with so much joy, it radiates to me from far away,

and then I want to be near her, to tell them: “Perhaps I shall be back now any day.”

I enjoy this poem because of its dark imagery so drastically different from the other poems in this collection. The imagery something you don’t often think about or see and it makes it remarkably unique. However, I do not understand the point of that very last line that feels unnatural in the story of the rest of the poem.

I think that my only other problem with this poem and many of the others is that the poet writes her poetry like she is telling us exactly what it means instead of letting us come to our own conclusions. Her poetry is often too on the nose for its own good and while it has potential as it is now it brings the reader out from the story.

Thanks for reading! I do not often get the chance to review the poetry I read on my blog, but reading poetry is something I love almost as much as writing it. Let me know in the comments if your interested in more poetry discussions and poetry related content on my blog.

-Till next time!

Peluda: A Review

Peluda by Melissa Lozada-Oliva

My Rating: 5 Stars!

Publisher: Button Poetry

Publish Date: September 26th, 2017

Received: Netgalley provided an e-arc in exchange for an honest review

Purchase: Amazon

Synopsis:

One of the most original performance poets of her generation, Melissa Lozada-Oliva has captivated crowds across the country and online with her vivid narratives. Humorous and biting, personal and communal, self-deprecating and unapologetically self-loving, peluda (meaning “hairy” or “hairy beast”) is the poet at her best. The book explores the relationship between femininity and body hair as well as the intersections of family, class, the immigrant experience, Latina identity, and much more, all through Lozada-Oliva’s unique lens and striking voice. peluda is a powerful testimony on body image and the triumph over taboo.

Musings:

This poetry book is SO GOOD! The whole thing was this unapologetic look at what it means to be a first generation American and living in a world where cultures combine and touch your life to where your parts become nothing else, but human. However, Peluda is so much more then that. It is about being comfortable in your own skin and not being ashamed of who you are, even letting out your inner werewolf and being unafraid of being feral every once in a while.

There was one single poem that made this poetry book so much more to me and that poem was “You Know how to say Arroz Con Pollo but Not What You Are”. I finished this poem and I cried. I cried because even though her situation is the complete opposite of my own it felt like she got it.. got me. It was everything I had ever wanted to say, but in different words.

As it was World Poetry Day today I will share this poem with you all in full.

You Know how to say Arroz Con Pollo but Not What You Are

If you ask me if I am fluent in Spanish I will tell you

My Spanish is an itchy phantom limb: reaching for a word and only finding air

My Spanish is my third birthday party: half of it is memory, and the other half is a photograph on the fridge is what my family has told me

If you ask me if I am fluent I I will tell you that

My Spanish is a puzzle left in the rain

Too soggy to make its parts fit so that it can look just like the picture on the box.

I will tell you that

My Spanish is possessive adjectives.

It is proper nouns dressed in pearls and bracelets.

It is are you up yet. It is there is a lot to do today

My Spanish is on my resume as a skill.

My Spanish is on his favorite shirt in red mouth marks

If you ask me I will tell you

My Spanish is hungrier than it was before.

My Spanish reaches for words at the top of a shelf without a stepping stool

is hit in the head with all of the old words that have been hiding up there

My Spanish wonders how bad is it to eat something that’s expired

My Spanish wonders if it has an expiration date

If you ask me if I am fluent in Spanish I will tell you that

My Spanish is the smell of Windex, the tearing of paper towels, the flushing of toilets, the splash of a mop

My Spanish bites on a pencil in the corner of a classroom and does not raise its hand

My Spanish cancelled plans with you so that it could watch movies

My Spanish is my older sister’s sore smile at her only beauty pageant

My Spanish is a made up story about a parent who never came home

My Spanish is a made up story about a parent who never came home and traveled to beautiful places and sent me post cards from all of them

My Spanish is me, tracing my fingers along every letter they were able to fit in

My Spanish is the real story of my parent’s divorce

Chaotic, broken and something I have to choose to remember correctly

My Spanish is wondering when my parents will be American

asking me if I’m white yet

If you ask me if I am fluent in Spanish I will try to tell you the story

of how my parents met in an ESL class

How it was when they trained their mouths to say

I love you in a different language, I hate you with their mouths shut

I will tell you how my father’s accent makes him sound like Zoro

how my mother tried to tie her tongue to a post with an English language leash

I will tell you that the tongue always ran stubbornly back to the language it had always been in love with

Even when she tried to tame it

it always turned loose

If you ask me if I am in fluent

I will tell you

My Spanish is understanding that there are stories that will always be out of my reach

there are people who will never fit together the way that I want them to

there are some letters that will always stay silent

there are some words that will always escape me.

This poem is gorgeous, emotional, and full of so much raw truth. I know it is not one that would make most people cry, but for me after I first read it I was an emotional mess. I am someone who was born only being seen as a typical white girl to outsiders. However, I was adopted and raised into a Spanish family. I grew up in a way not connecting to any specific culture and so I don’t really feel like anything but a human being (I don’t really believe I can claim any specific culture or that I should claim one). However, I grew up hearing Spanish around the house and listening to mariachi music at fairs and eating tamales, pupusas, and huevos con chorizo. More then anything else I learned how to speak Spanish in the way of food, but I never became fluent and can understand far more then I could ever say. But for me it was the end of this poem that really got to me. There will always be words I don’t understand and so many stories that I will never hear and it felt like a great loss to me and the tears came. This poem was beautiful and in so many ways it broke my heart.

All of the poems in Peluda are filled with power. This is one of my favorite poetry books I have ever read and I hope that so many others find the beauty in it that I did.

Thanks for reading! Let me know your thoughts down in the comments!

-Till next time!

Still Can’t Do My Daughter’s Hair: A Review

Still Can’t Do My Daughter’s Hair by William Evans

My Rating: 5 Stars!

Publisher: Button Poetry

Publish Date: October 24th

Received: Netgalley provided an e-arc in exchange for an honest review

Purchase: Amazon

Synopsis:

Still Can’t Do My Daughter’s Hair is the latest book by author William Evans, founder of Black Nerd Problems. Evans is a long-standing voice in the performance poetry scene, who has performed at venues across the country and been featured on numerous final stages, including the National Poetry Slam and Individual World Poetry Slam. Evans’ commanding, confident style shines through in these poems, which explore masculinity, fatherhood, and family, and what it means to make a home as a black man in contemporary America.

*subject to change*

Opening Poem:

Dust

“If I say that I am an old man now, what I mean is that my daughter once pointed her finger at me and yelled, Bang, Daddy, you’re dead, and I fell down in a heap of my murdered youth and yelped in theater to her giggling applause, this time without tasting a friend’s blood spray against my profile or feeling the weight of his expiration fall against the summer of my fifteenth year, no longer picturing the mural of our collapse against the already red brick wall of a school that he never got to walk the halls of again.”

Musings:

The hurt in this poetry is real. The sorrow of this poetry comes from outsiders blindness. The joy of this poetry is from the little things, the texture of the daughters hair, her smile, her light, her beauty. The worry of this poetry comes in hushed tones of a man in wife wondering how to tell their little girl that she lives in a world built to be against her. Worrying that one day the father will go out and never come back. The truth that that almost happened years before.

This poetry made me ache. It made me feel so sorrowful because we now live in Trump’s America and while racism was never a thing of the past that it is rising like a demon created to divide all of us… all of us human beings (of course we don’t always see that when we look at another human do we?)

This poetry also made me feel sorry, sorry because my skin is of the same skin that has formed this poetry’s hurt. Sorry because no matter how I feel I can’t change another’s hateful heart.

Read this poetry to understand another’s version of what it means to be alive. Read this poetry no matter who you are or what you believe, because this is the stuff we need to mend some of our brokenness.

Thanks for reading! Let me know your thoughts in the comments below.

-Till next time!

The Chaos of Longing: A Review

The Chaos of Longing by K.Y. Robinson

My Rating: 4 Stars!

Publisher: Andrews McMeel Publishing

Publish Date: September 26th, 2017

Received: Netgalley provided an e-arc in exchange for an honest review

Purchase: Amazon

Synopsis:

The Chaos of Longing is a brutally honest exploration of desire—physical, emotional, and spiritual. This revised and expanded edition contains over 50 pages of all-new material.

Organized in four sections – Inception, Longing, Chaos, and Epiphany – K.Y. Robinson’s debut poetry collection explores what it is to want in spite of trauma, shame, injustice, and mental illness. It is one survivor’s powerful testimony, and a love letter “to those who lie awake burning.”

Musings:

This book is a thing of beauty. Something that aches and begs you to realize that as a woman you are powerful, beautiful, and something greater then yourself. This book is about the sorrows of our longing and how we diminish ourselves for the sake of what we long for.

Simple, lyrical, and impactful my favorite parts of this book were the epiphanies. Where you realize that you should keep your insides for your own sake and not worry about what anyone else on this earth thinks. The parts where the Fire of this story builds and you realize you must set fire to the toxicity that is the expectations of other around you and to invent yourself and be who you have always dreamed to be.

A feminist poetry book for this generation, The Chaos of Longing will inspire many to be brighter then their brightest selves.

Thanks for reading! Let me know your thoughts about this poetry book down in the comments below.

-Till next time!

Depression and Other Magic Tricks: A Review

Depression and Other Magic Tricks by Sabrina Benaim

My Rating: 5 Stars!

Publisher: Button Poetry

Published: August 22nd, 2017

Received: Netgalley provided an e-arc in exchange for an honest review

Purchase: Amazon

Synopsis:

Depression & Other Magic Tricks is the debut book by Sabrina Benaim, one of the most-viewed performance poets of all time, whose poem “Explaining My Depression to My Mother” has become a cultural phenomenon with over 50 million views. Depression & Other Magic Tricks explores themes of mental health, love, and family. It is a documentation of struggle and triumph, a celebration of daily life and of living. Benaim’s wit, empathy, and gift for language produce a work of endless wonder.

Musings:

I didn’t quite get to the heart and the passion that lives inside this poetry book until I watched Sabrina say aloud many of the poems she keeps in this book in her performances on YouTube. However, the one that really shattered me on the inside due to its beauty and anger was “Explaining my Depression to my Mother”

https://youtu.be/aqu4ezLQEUA

This piece was desperation and bargaining and being fed up and hurt all at once and I wouldn’t have truly gotten that without Sabrina’s voice. Her flare and flavor make her words come to life in a way that they couldn’t have been on their own. It made me wish that I could have watched her perform all the poems in this book, because that’s when her words curl around you and shake you up, that’s when you find how truly beautiful her poetry is.

Sabrina’s poetry is poetry meant to be sung and screamed and belted out into the air. You are meant to find its rhythm and how it’s rhythm syncs with your own. Depression & Other Magic Tricks is brilliantly imagined it’s words coming for the jagged edges of a girls truest form.

Thank you for reading!

I hope you have enjoyed this review and will take a chance on reading Depression & Other Magic Tricks! Let me know your thoughts down in the comments. Also, let me know if you have any poetry recommendations! I’m always up for those.

-Till next time!

Elegance 

Gone was any pretense of elegance 

It was just a line and motion between two

A primal dance with jagged edges 

No questions no answers just being 

They say love is like answering a call 

But for them it was more like being home 

Gone was all curiosity except for the other 

Gone was all need for breath