i treat white words and black smiles as one
when the moon looks like a lamp,
a river of despondent virtues
&potential sins,
i look like a mirror, an image of an image,
drinking from the same chalice
as a millennium of systemic subversion, my stigma
is attached to my body, and
i carry it around like a baby
in a cradle, like a queer impulse
of my hope, like open eyes that
do not shut in the dark, like my skin’s
craving and engravings on my skin.
i do not mix
love (as reductive as it is)
with pity,
i do not change my face
as i once did, i pickle my smiles
and feed them to your glances,
i am an expression, not either, nor both,
but all at once, the first one twice, the second
in intervals of time (joined to my hip),
i am a hole to take you in, to engulf
and succumb to this impulse
to see death, in its non-binary
view — this itch to know,
and to know well,
that i am the one, who
i am, who i see,
without a mirror, without the sky,
not transparent, nor opaque,
but still visible in the shadow
of my own light.
.
© Anmol Arora
Image Source (Hand Mirror by Gwendolyn Zabicki)
For my prompt at dVerse Poetics this evening, where we are celebrating some amazing Black poets, as part of the Black History Month. I’ve tried to emulate Audre Lorde’s style in A Woman Speaks and used one of her lines (in italics) — “I do not mix/love with pity.”
Our bodies are our stories. You chose a great line, and took it somewhere strange and powerful.
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constructs that become so dominant that we are left as shadows 😦 Such a powerful poem, Anmol. So terrifying, yet there is still light there for yourself ❤
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Thank you for the Nina Simon song, Anmol, which I haven’t heard for a while. Thank you also for your amazing poem, which is so personal and yet so universal. It’s an honest poem, with a quirky structure and imagery. I like the lines:
‘…my stigma
is attached to my body, and
i carry it around like a baby
in a cradle, like a queer impulse
of my hope…’
and
‘i do not change my face
as i once did, i pickle my smiles
and feed them to your glances’.
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A magnificent illustration for your prompt. Your words shimmer with power and truth, transcending just the black experience to pertain to all victims everywhere.
I like the lines /to see death in its none-binary view/, ?I treat white words and black smiles as lone/.
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and to know well,
that i am the one, who
i am, who i see,
Knowing who one’s self is without a mirror is a worthy goal for all of us.
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i pickle my smiles
and feed them to your glances, – this line stood out for me, it seemed to compliment the image in an image so perfectly. feeding something to a feeling we want in response. such a powerhouse of emotions written with such imagery, you really impress me.
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a powerful and true rendition, comes from deep within … you really feel this!
Good choice of song …
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This is expertly woven … full of power and insight.
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I love this poem, and I can feel the personal view to write from yourself. I particularly love the opening lines that really hooked me. The juxtaposition of white words and black smiles contains all the history in a single line.
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I was hooked from the first line. The idea of seeing yourself as who you are without a mirror. Such a powerful insightful poem.
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