Welcome to OpenLinkNight everyone. As you know, OpenLinkNight is your opportunity to link 1 poem of your choice as this is no prompt-day. For those who missed the Mr Linky deadline the past week or this Tuesday’s poetics about “Invisible“, this is also your opportunity to share your poem.
As some of you know, we are working on our next project, Poetry Form. Our 2nd Poetry Form is the The Rubaiyat, which is still open for the next 3 weeks. After you have linked up, revisit Mr. Linky for many more rubaiyat poems.
Today, I would like to pay tribute to poems by Audre Lorde (1934-1992). Here is the reading of her 5 poems: Coal, Second Spring, Echo, Memorial III and Never to Dream of Spider.
Coal by Audre Lorde
Is the total black, being spoken
From the earth’s inside.
There are many kinds of open.
How a diamond comes into a knot of flame
How a sound comes into a word, coloured
By who pays what for speaking.
Some words are open
Like a diamond on glass windows
Singing out within the crash of passing sun
Then there are words like stapled wagers
In a perforated book—buy and sign and tear apart—
And come whatever wills all chances
The stub remains
An ill-pulled tooth with a ragged edge.
Some words live in my throat
Breeding like adders. Others know sun
Seeking like gypsies over my tongue
To explode through my lips
Like young sparrows bursting from shell.
Love is a word another kind of open—
As a diamond comes into a knot of flame
I am black because I come from the earth’s inside
Take my word for jewel in your open light.
Never to Dream of Spiders by Audre Lorde
Time collapses between the lips of strangers
my days collapse into a hollow tube
soon implodes against now
like an iron wall
my eyes are blocked with rubble
a smear of perspectives
blurring each horizon
in the breathless precision of silence
one word is made.
Once the renegade flesh was gone
fall air lay against my face
sharp and blue as a needle
but the rain fell through October
and death lay a condemnation
within my blood.
The smell of your neck in August
a fine gold wire bejeweling war
all the rest lies
illusive as a farmhouse
on the other side of a valley
vanishing in the afternoon.
Day three day four day ten
the seventh step
a veiled door leading to my golden anniversary
flameproofed free-paper shredded
in the teeth of a pillaging dog
never to dream of spiders
and when they turned the hoses upon me
a burst of light.
To join us for Thursday’s OpenLinkNight, which happens every other week, here’s how to join:
See you at the poetry trail. ~Grace~