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4.18 AVERAGE
4.18 AVERAGE
Poignant and personal while maintaining the ability to be relatable. So stunningly beautiful.
Sarah Kay is a genius. This book is full of love and loss, all the while empowering me. She is knowledgeable and just.
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
By far my favourite poetry book, always. As a teenager, I used to watch videos of Sarah performing online obsessively, studying her style. Ten years later and I still come back to these poems to ground me, to open me up, and to remind me what the world is really like.
this was a really intimate book! i could smell, feel & live the different cultures in the book. so beautifully written!
“It was barely audible above the shouting
of children—the squeals and laughter bubbling from the schoolyard
through the classroom windows. But it was there: the swish of silk
saris and the jingle jangle of bangles on thin wrists like wind chimes.
This is what learning sounds like. I remember.”
-
“She makes tea by hand. Nettles, slippery elm,
turmeric, cinnamon—my mother is a recipe
for warm throats and belly laughs.”
-
“You love the city, when you love each other.
And when you wake up in a city that you don’t recognize,
and the traffic lights blink angry,
it is not because the city has grown cold.
It is not because your hands no longer fit in his.
It is because it is someone else’s turn to lean
out her window into the cold cold morning and say,
Baby, look at all those traffic lights, blinking their way into dawn.”
-
“While I was taking out the trash tonight,
a toddler waddled past me, sticky-handed and
rash-cheeked, and I was left thinking
about the children you and I might have had.
It sounds silly now, with you so far on your
way to the future, and me so very here.”
-
“Only some men want to learn what it feels like to wrap themselves
into a question mark around you, admit they do not have the answers
they thought they would have by now;
some men will want to hold you like The Answer.
You are not the answer.”
-
“If there is any music left, you can untie it from my throat.
It was dying there anyway.”
“It was barely audible above the shouting
of children—the squeals and laughter bubbling from the schoolyard
through the classroom windows. But it was there: the swish of silk
saris and the jingle jangle of bangles on thin wrists like wind chimes.
This is what learning sounds like. I remember.”
-
“She makes tea by hand. Nettles, slippery elm,
turmeric, cinnamon—my mother is a recipe
for warm throats and belly laughs.”
-
“You love the city, when you love each other.
And when you wake up in a city that you don’t recognize,
and the traffic lights blink angry,
it is not because the city has grown cold.
It is not because your hands no longer fit in his.
It is because it is someone else’s turn to lean
out her window into the cold cold morning and say,
Baby, look at all those traffic lights, blinking their way into dawn.”
-
“While I was taking out the trash tonight,
a toddler waddled past me, sticky-handed and
rash-cheeked, and I was left thinking
about the children you and I might have had.
It sounds silly now, with you so far on your
way to the future, and me so very here.”
-
“Only some men want to learn what it feels like to wrap themselves
into a question mark around you, admit they do not have the answers
they thought they would have by now;
some men will want to hold you like The Answer.
You are not the answer.”
-
“If there is any music left, you can untie it from my throat.
It was dying there anyway.”
Love these poems, nicely written and great subjects
emotional
inspiring
relaxing
intimate autobiography disguised as long-a$$ poems.