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dahmnait
02-15-2006, 05:54 PM
By Audre Lorde (http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poets/g_l/lorde/lorde.htm)

(1934-1992)


From the House of Yemanjá


My mother had two faces and a frying pot
where she cooked up her daughters
into girls
before she fixed our dinner.
My mother had two faces
and a broken pot
where she hid out a perfect daughter
who was not me
I am the sun and moon and forever hungry
for her eyes.

I bear two women upon my back
one dark and rich and hidden
in the ivory hungers of the other
mother
pale as a witch
yet steady and familiar
brings me bread and terror
in my sleep
her breasts are huge exciting anchors
in the midnight storm.

All this has been
before
in my mother's bed
time has no sense
I have no brothers
and my sisters are cruel.

Mother I need
mother I need
mother I need your blackness now
as the august earth needs rain.
I am

mkcbunny
02-16-2006, 08:28 AM
I love it. The mix of the irregular and the rhythmic fits into my brain well, and the end ... did I mention that I loved it?

Ilovepensandpaper
02-16-2006, 08:38 AM
"From the House of Yemanjá" is unique in the flow of the verses. Each verse has a different rhythm.
'My mother had two faces and a frying pot
where she cooked up her daughters
into girls
before she fixed our dinner.'
That is my favorite part of this poem. I give it a 5

Ralyks
02-17-2006, 12:57 AM
I started out loving it, and then it lost me a little, and by the end it seemed a smidge pretentious.

aspier
02-17-2006, 01:11 AM
By Audre Lorde (http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poets/g_l/lorde/lorde.htm)


(1934-1992)


From the House of Yemanjá


My mother had two faces and a frying pot
where she cooked up her daughters
into girls
before she fixed our dinner.
My mother had two faces
and a broken pot
where she hid out a perfect daughter
who was not me
I am the sun and moon and forever hungry
for her eyes.

I bear two women upon my back
one dark and rich and hidden
in the ivory hungers of the other
mother
pale as a witch
yet steady and familiar
brings me bread and terror
in my sleep
her breasts are huge exciting anchors
in the midnight storm.

All this has been
before
in my mother's bed
time has no sense
I have no brothers
and my sisters are cruel.

Mother I need
mother I need
mother I need your blackness now
as the august earth needs rain.
I am


Some less spectacular verse and some absolutely wonderfull poetry in this poem! The marked in re are winners! Oeee I like those!

poetinahat
02-17-2006, 10:49 AM
I'm torn. I'll have to come back and re-read before I rate.

Was it written in English, or is this a translation?

dahmnait
02-17-2006, 05:09 PM
Was it written in English, or is this a translation?As far as I know, this was written in English.

Paint
02-17-2006, 08:35 PM
I like the creativity of this poem in word and style. I have an emotional ever changing mother who is very powerful so I can relate to this poem.