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Literature Text
"I am not wrong: Wrong is not my name" -- June Jordan
I always felt special because he
named me, he picked out my name
just for me, not for my twin, the only
thing that was my own growing up
I was my father's girl
running tackling tickling rubbing
my mitt with heady-reeking oil
throwing the ball around climbing trees
wrestling with him (like Jacob
I wrestled with God
and he put my thigh out of joint)
fighting with boys
my father wanted a boy
and that was what I had to give him
my mother wanted a girl
and I did not have that to give her
at all: ugly hair ugly face ugly
skin ugly teeth ugly fat lazy ass and she tried
squeezing the skin
on my greasy cheeks with her horny nails
pushing the grime and the pus
out through my pores; she tried to rape me
into being a girly girl but I was my father's
girl I was always doing what he wanted
me to do what I thought
he wanted me to do
for him to love me
more that my sister more than my mother
I would do anything for that
including the things I just don't
remember anymore
things that might have happened in the bathtub
in my bunk bed in the shadows of my thinking
and even when I was twelve and my body
got completely out of hand
I tried to love
what he loved and do what he loved
and did and he made jokes about touching
myself in the bathtub when I couldn't
help myself
and I needed his help
and his love his and his approval and his name
to make me real and really a boy
and really the thing he wanted
me to be
Literature
Who am I?
Who am I? just a thought.
A thought of infinite length about myself. An eternal idea that I can't express.
I'm a lonely wind that blows away every touch. With no other gift than being incorporeal, temporary.
Not a single rest, not a single smile for the lonely being.
Trapped on my desire begging for a hug, a kiss.
Who am I? a monster. A monster with one thousand faces, all of them scary, all of them "fucked up".
I am the nightmare, my nightmare. A dream of blood and sorrow, a dream of loneliness and spikes.
A dream in which I hurt the ones I love and everybody, seeking revenge, try to erase me.
Who am I? The sadness. The pain. The ra
Literature
Never Forgotten
You are pushing...
Trying to erase...
But you refuse to wipe away those words that rest gentle on the lines.
You can't do it.
They are written in pen.
You won't rip the well designed paper either.
You will have to paint over those honest words.
You will always know that underneath those vibrant colours lies a hidden script.
A secret code that whispers in your sleep.
You have become a spy.
Undercover, in your own world.
What are you searching for?
Is it your treasure which you have tucked away?
Hopefully you will find that which you have intentionally lost,
And at its appearance,
You will forget the tears you shed,
And once again remember
Literature
Forgotten.
We used to travel together, you see. And I remember even the most useless things.
Remember that time, when it was hot, so hot, that we brought ice creams at the local milk bar.
They melted in our fingers.
I remember you thought the guy behind the counter was gorgeous. You wanted to give him your number but you chickened out. I teased you the whole day.
I guess that's what friends do?
I wanted to be... so much more than friends with you. I loved you.
I remember you made sexual jokes about how sticky your hands were after the ice creams. "You're disgusting." I laughed.
We had to walk ten minutes to find a tap to wash our hands.
We used t
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A response to June Jordan's "Poem About My Rights."
I liked the form and flow of Jordan's poem and tried to reproduce it here.
I liked the form and flow of Jordan's poem and tried to reproduce it here.
© 2013 - 2024 fernknits
Comments8
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Hello, I will be critiquing your piece on behalf of 
. I will do my best to help by suggesting improvements that can be made and general feedback on aesthetic appeal.
I think the problem with this piece is that, although you tried to emulate June Jordan, it doesn't have the same ease of movement that her lack of punctuation creates. Here, it just seems messy. In Jordan's poem, the entire piece is one long stanza, seamless and whole. You have to pay attention to your syntax and word choice to make that happen. Jordan's stream-of-consciousness is actually very well-regulated with almost a dactylic or trochaic pentameter and an average of five stressed syllables per line. This is why everyone below is saying "put a comma, use punctuation, have a period at least."
The real problem with this piece is that it has alternating lines of 5 or 3 stresses on average. This is not a consistent pattern, more akin to an actual stream of consciousness than stream-of-consciousness. You need to either use punctuation or you can study meter and learn how to write with a variation in meter. Do this and you'll have to restructure the piece not to intermingle long segments like "skin ugly teeth ugly fat lazy ass and she tried" with shorter ones like "me to be." It's a difficult poem to emulate, particularly because of the huge degree of skill it takes to pull off such a torrent of words and still be coherent.
. I will do my best to help by suggesting improvements that can be made and general feedback on aesthetic appeal.I think the problem with this piece is that, although you tried to emulate June Jordan, it doesn't have the same ease of movement that her lack of punctuation creates. Here, it just seems messy. In Jordan's poem, the entire piece is one long stanza, seamless and whole. You have to pay attention to your syntax and word choice to make that happen. Jordan's stream-of-consciousness is actually very well-regulated with almost a dactylic or trochaic pentameter and an average of five stressed syllables per line. This is why everyone below is saying "put a comma, use punctuation, have a period at least."
The real problem with this piece is that it has alternating lines of 5 or 3 stresses on average. This is not a consistent pattern, more akin to an actual stream of consciousness than stream-of-consciousness. You need to either use punctuation or you can study meter and learn how to write with a variation in meter. Do this and you'll have to restructure the piece not to intermingle long segments like "skin ugly teeth ugly fat lazy ass and she tried" with shorter ones like "me to be." It's a difficult poem to emulate, particularly because of the huge degree of skill it takes to pull off such a torrent of words and still be coherent.