Poetry Monday

Yesterday was International Women's Day. I'm not sure where I missed the memo for this but I did. I learned this yesterday morning from the comics. Not the most typical place to learn about new holidays. And I wonder why it was never mentioned. And for some reason that got me thinking about all the great feminist classes I took in college. I took a course on Women and Madness, a feminist view of how strong women were often labeled insane as a means of control. I took courses on marriage and family (sociology minor) and my favorite class, Modern Women Poets. (English Major).

I was introduced to a ton of amazing poets ranging from Maya Angelou, Sharon Olds, Marge Piercy, Joy Harjo, and Naomi Shihab Nye. And I was also introduced to Audre Lorde. And I fell in love with one of her poems. If I had to pick a poem to define myself it is this one. I spent a rainy afternoon in college copying this poem over and over on my manual typewriter in an attempt to get a perfect copy. I taped it to my wall and had everyone I knew read it.

So during another anxious night last night, I started reciting what I could remember of the poem. Some lines came back easily, some had to be coaxed. And for some reason those lines about fear calmed my anxiety and I was able to sleep. This morning I grabbed my copy of The Black Unicorn off the shelf and brought it to work so I could type it up. So for your reading pleasure and to remind me of why I love this poem....

Audre Lorde's A Litany for Survival.

For those of us who live at the shoreline
standing upon the constant edges of decision
crucial and alone
for those of us who cannot indulge
the passing dreams of choice
who love in doorways coming and going
in the hours between dawns
looking inward and outward
at once before and after
seeking a now that can breed
futures
like bread in our children's mouths
so their dreams will not reflect
the death of ours:

For those of us
who were imprinted with fear
like a faint line in the center of our foreheads
learning to be afraid with our mother's milk
for by this weapon
this illusion of some safety to be found
the heavy-footed hoped to silence us
For all of us
this instant and this triumph
We were never meant to survive.

And when the sun rises we are afraid
it might not remain
when the sun sets we are afraid
it might not rise in the morning
when our stomachs are full we are afraid
of indigestion
when our stomachs are empty we are afraid
we may never eat again
when we are loved we are afraid
love will vanish
when we are alone we are afraid
love will never return
and when we speak we are afraid
our words will not be heard
nor welcomed
but when we are silent
we are still afraid

So it is better to speak
remembering
we were never meant to survive.