Poems Rethabile Likes

Beauty by Warsan Shire Beauty My older sister soaps between her legs, her hair a prayer of curls. When she was my age, she stole the neighbour's husband, burnt his name into her skin. For weeks she smelt of cheap perfume and dying flesh. It's 4 a.m. and she winks at me, bending over the sink, her small breasts bruised from sucking. She smiles, pops her gum before saying boys are haram, don't ever forget that. Some nights I hear her in her room screaming. We play Surah Al-Baqarah to drown her out. Anything tha...

In the Desert, by Stephen Crane In the Desert In the desert I saw a creature, naked, bestial, Who, squatting upon the ground, Held his heart in his hands, And ate of it. I said: “Is it good, friend?” “It is bitter—bitter,” he answered; “But I like it Because it is bitter, And because it is my heart.” Poet: Stephen Crane Source: @PoemsThatHurt Books: @Abebooks Held his heart in his hands, and ate of it. ...

"Lie Down", by Nancy Paddock Lie Down Lie down with your belly to the ground, like an old dog in the sun. Smell the greenness of the cloverleaf, feel the damp earth through your clothes, let an ant wander the uncharted territory of your skin. Lie down with your belly to the ground. Melt into the earth's contours like a harmless snake. All else is mere bravado. Let your mind resolve itself in a tangle of grass. Lie down with your belly to the ground, flat out, on ground level. Prostrate yourself before the soil you will someday enter. Stop doing. Stop judging, fearing, trying. This is ...

You Will Forget, by Chenjerai Jove You Will Forget If you stay in comfort too long You will not know The weight of a water pot On the bald head of the village woman You will forget The weight of three bundles of thatch grass On the sinewy neck of the woman Whose baby cries on her back For a blade of grass in its eyes Sure, if you stay in comfort too long You will not know the pain Of child birth without a nurse in white You will forget The thirst, the cracked dusty lips Of the women in the valley On her way to the headman who isn’t there You will forget the pouring pain of a thorn prick With a l...

"Friendly advice to a lot of young men", by Charles Bukowski Friendly advice to a lot of young men Go to Tibet. Ride a camel. Read the Bible. Dye your shoes blue. Grow a Beard. Circle the world in a paper canoe. Subscribe to “The Saturday Evening Post.” Chew on the left side of your mouth only. Marry a woman with one leg and shave with a straight razor. And carve your name in her arm. Brush your teeth with gasoline. Sleep all day and climb trees at night. Be a monk and drink buckshot and beer. Hold your head under water and play the violin. Do a belly dance bef...

"The Apple" is a poem by Laura Gilpin The Apple You gave me your heart like a polished apple and being young I bit into it letting my teeth pierce the tight skin deep into the flesh while the juices ran down between my fingers. But now I’m not sure what fruit it is that I’ve eaten or from what tree or why suddenly neither one of us is quite as young. Poet: Laura Gilpin Source: @PoemToday Books: @AbeBooks You gave me your heart like a polished apple ...

"The Facts of Life" is a poem by Ronald Wallace The Facts of Life She wonders how people get babies. Suddenly vague and distracted, we talk about "making love." She’s six and unsatisfied, finds our limp answers unpersuasive. Embarrassed, we stiffen, and try again, this time exposing the stark naked words: penis, vagina, sperm, womb and egg. She thinks we’re pulling her leg. We decide that it’s time to get passionate and insist. But she’s angry, disgusted. Why do we always make fun of her? Why do we lie? We sigh, try cabbages, storks. She smiles. That’s more like it. We ...