Oh happy day, it's Poetry Thursday! My new favorite day of the week!
Work has been crazy and has sapped all of my creative energy. Haven't been able to get into a flow all week. Fortunately, I have a vacation right around the corner so there is definitely a light at the end my of tunnel.
Also, I should mention that artist and poet Sekou Sundiata has passed away. He was a friend to Cave Canem and the Dodge Poetry Festival, and he was just so damn talented it was hard not to listen. If you scroll down to Tuesday's post, you can watch him perform one of his best known works. Sekou will be missed.
When a poet passes on, the world just seems that much smaller.
Last week's Sunday Scribblings post on "hair" prompted me to post this old poem on the topic. It's a sentimental favorite of mine, written about my mom and me long ago.
Looking forward to reading your poems this week.
Dipping my head under the hot-cold water
of the kitchen sink
I feel her hand, her wedding ring lightly rubbing my head
slowly, not to cause burning, yet my scalp starts to feel
like angry ants stamping formation
Afternoon whittles itself into evening
as my mother opens the window to
the bruise-colored sky
We open to a moment of permanent,
neutralizing shampoo, and perm strengthener
This is my last night home
I am learning how to do this,
the opening and closing of her fingers on top of my
our hands turning into prunes
She tells me to be careful in my new life,
she says, the ones in your generation are always burning
rinse, towel off
Her hands are on my head
If there is too much air close the window