I am grateful for...
1. The breath of life, the ability to wake up out of bed and feeling alive this New Year
2. My physical therapist, knees are getting better. I can't wait to get back to the gym
3. The new lamps in my bedroom are new gifts and I love them, they blend so well with my mood
4. I have a great boss, and she's a woman, lol. I used to think working for a woman sucks, well, i've had my share in the past but I've been blessed with this one
5. Lunch was salmon with vegetables, yummmmmmmy!
6. Thanks to Rethabile, discovering two talented poets : Makhosana and Kojo
7. Trains are a joy ride, I have a 40 minute commute in the morning, that's where gratitude comes in,I take advantage of it. I write, I read and read again.
I've been tagged by Rethabile, this is the first and hopefully not last:
Question one: Why do you write poetry (or literature) at all?
I've been writing since I was eight years old. I was always the one hiding under the bed with pen and paper while my sister played with dolls. I haven't stop ever since but I no longer hide under the bed :) Poetry keeps me at peace with myself. Helps me see the world a little better, a little softer and keeps me grounded. I'm very passionate about my writing, espcially poetry, it's impossible not to write.
Question two: What is your favourite poem? You know, the one you'd have loved to have written, the one by whose standard you base all other works of art. If your life depended on answering this question, what poem would you suggest to the person holding the knife to your throat?
I have so many from different poets, but one that really got me when I opened her book was Sonia Sanchez's Haiku piece:
i have carved your face
on my tongue and i speak you
in my off-key voice
And to the person holding the knife to my throat, I would suggest Miss Sanchez's Sonku piece:
when i die
i shall take
Question three: According to you, what is the state of poetry today? Is poetry flourishing or dying?
Poetry is surviving through all of us, whether you're a beginner or an elder. The use of language is definitely what many readers are thirsting for out there and we're the one responsible to show them how our creative minds work.
Question four: What kind of poetry (or literature) do you dislike, and would not consider buying?
I am not crazy about poems that rhymes, in the beginning I used to write them but now I avoid them. I love free verse.
Question five: Between the styles of Come (by Makhosana Xaba) and word speaks (by Kojo Baffoe) which do you prefer? Care to tell us why?
Wow, I read both of their work, they are unmistakeably fascinating. I am in awe with their language structure.
Question six: What was the last poetry book you bought?
I went to Barnes and Nobles just to browse and stumbled upon this delicate, small book entitled "Crush", by Richard Siken. It's a small book but the energy and imagery he offers are intriguing, each word jumps at you
Question seven: Where do you go for poetry on the web?
www.Poets.com, The Verbal Artist and The Next Big Writer. If there are others out there let me know :)
Question eight: Do you talk poetry (or literature) with friends and family? "Hi honey -- Hey, I read this incredible poem today..."
Yes, I often do with my family and friends, especially my sister. She's my best critic or maybe I should say worse, lol. she'll let me know if a poem is worth posting anywhere on the web or worth publishing on my next poetry book
Question nine: What one piece of advice would you give to a beginning poet (or writer in general)? One. What would you tell them to do or not to do?
I would suggest to any beginner to keep on writing and reading. The more you read, the more inspired you will feel. The urge, the fire is already there simply ignite it with more writing and reading.
Question ten: What line comes to you after the following two verses (in other words, please write the third verse -- these are spontaneous lines from me and are no part of any poem I'm writing or will be writing).
When the light from the lantern
beamed and fell upon the child,
he discovered a collection of pleasure
he danced at the sight of hope
placed the light under his pillow
the next day ate it for breakfast
The TV screen shows his face
I place duct tape on the front door
In case he tries to break in
Clock tick-tocks 2 a.m.
I surfaced out of the warm bathtub without a robe
I hear the sound of feet on marble tiles
I hide inside the dark walk-in closet
“Who are you hiding from?” he asks
“I’m naked,” I say, “I’m naked with stretch marks”
He whispers in my ears, “I only see your beauty”
I locate his face with wet fingers
My shadow follows him out of the closet
He places me on a buffet table
Incites mayhem with implicit kisses on my breasts
Wine glasses and champagne splashes on the floor
Viciously we roll over
He identifies my weak spots with his bare hands
The quiet is broken with moonlight chanting
I tear open his shirt
Buttons spill over and over
There is no controversy
He keeps his tongue like a glorious leash of chocolate in my mouth
He salutes my body with consistency
Stretch marks has disappeared in the night
©2007 BY CATHY DELALEU
Painting by Humberto Vinas Garcia
Lyrics, poetry and art all meshed together