wrote a poem 'bout it... like 2 hear it? here it go...
well, there goes one new year’s resolution shot to shit. i haven’t been writing here weekly as i promised but i guess it’s all a process right? forgive me.
i have, however, been writing a lot lately which feels wonderful. i’ve gotten 2 of 3 submissions completed within the last month which is a fete for me. (i don’t do rejection well.) but a friend advised that i tell myself, “well, they aren’t going to accept this anyway but let me just do it for the practice of submission.” then i’m not tied to the outcome. so when it gets rejected, though my feelings [or ego] will be hurt, i won’t be surprised. but if they DO somehow find it worthy, well, it’s time to go have drinks!
the collection of poems i am currently working on realized itself when my daughter entered the age of inquisition. what i realized then was my ill-preparation to answer her questions about the world as fast as she could pose them. it also took me to a place of questions for my own mothers and how to become the mother i hope to be for my daughter. how do i grow a strong woman? the most immediate answer, obviously, was to be an example of all of the attributes i can only pray will manifest in her (and her brother). the process has been a beautiful dialogue which will someday (hopefully sooner than later) emerge in the form of a book, conversations with butterflies.
the following poem came in the wake of my daughter’s assertion that mom’s are easy but how can you tell who the daddy’s are. (you will see what i mean in the poem.) an no matter how many issues her dad and i have, i need my children to always know that they were conceived in love. i would love to know your first responses to the poem; what it made you think of, or how it made you feel. for the poets, i would love your critical feedback as i want to include this piece in the collection forthcoming. (i was raised at cave canem so i don't bruise easy. i want the good bad and ugly so i can knead it into something delicious. fire away!)
goodness,
shia
her father’s child
when she asks again
how i can tell for sure
that he is her dad
when she argues
that she was conceived
in my body
not his
that she grew
in my stomach
not his
that she fed
on my breast
not his
that she called first
my name
not his
i will tell her
my spine still tingles
from the exact moment
he gave her
the slant of her eyes
her long torso
the lankiness of her legs
the midnight of her skin
the slope of her nose
the pout of her lips and
the desire that inspires
her inquisition
©2006 by Shia Shabazz
5 comments:
I love it as usual! the honesty and purity does it for me every time!Much love,wisdom and blessings to you always! believe & laughY``~Tiffany Nicole~
Dearest Shia,
This arrived on a good day for me, a day dedicated to poetry/writing/creativity! So thank you for sending yours out into the world today.
Re: the poem. I like how it sounds....the repetition is working great. And I love the rhythmic shift in the middle ("I will tell her...."). Great work.
I have some questions about the ending. The word "inquisition" kinda jumps out at me. It has a negative connotation, suggesting that there's something unpleasant about this question for you, but that doesn't really resonate with the rest of the poem (although it does resonate with what you've told me about answering your daughter's questions, it just doesn't really show up here). Also even in terms of sound and rhythm it is from a different vocabulary than the rest of the poem. could be a good thing. But that's how it sounds to me.
The other thing about the ending is I couldn't help wishing it came back around to you and your daughter after travelling through the territory of "yeah, you are your father's daughter." maybe a way to come back to your point of view would be a little more info about what the "inquisition" means/feels like to you?
I don't know. But the poem felt a little unfinished there at the end. Just grist for the mill.
Keep up the submission practice! The world needs your voice.
Can't wait to see you Sunday.
Love,
Lisa
wow, shia...this is beautiful.
let her not forget she was conceived in love...
i have to remember this...for her..for me.
thank u
i almost did not want it to be done...
one suggestion: take out some of the "thats"
also have u tried urbis.com? great for writers and critiquing
I love its purity, its clarity. I love that it embraces the moment of her conception. I think it's a powerful piece that could use a bit of fiddling with, language-wise. Just a bit. For example:
that she grew
in my stomach
not his
Maybe "grew in my womb"?
And:
the desire that inspires
her inquisition
I agree with Lisa on the word "inquisition." The connotation's off. Maybe "curiousity"? Nah. But some other word. I'm also not sure about "the desire that inspires." It's cloudy for me. It doesn't ring.
All edits with caution, as I think the simplicity of the words reflect the daughter's voice and I wouldn't want you to lose that.
Write on,
Carla
Shia,
This is beautiful...soft and tender, yet honest to a sharp point. I miss hearing you read at NeoSoul...hope to see you there tonight. This was my first time to stop by your blog...definitely won't be my last. Very nice...
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