On my Facebook page, I asked friends to post excerpts by which they would remember Adrienne Rich. Here they are:
- From Martha Barnette, of A Way With Words, from an essay called “Invisibility in Academe”:
"When those who have the power to name and to socially construct reality choose not to see you or hear you, whether you are dark-skinned, old, disabled, female, or speak with a different accent or dialect than theirs, when someone with the authority of a teacher, say, describes the world and you are not in it, there is a moment of psychic disequilibrium, as if you looked into a mirror and saw nothing.”
- From Jennifer Einhorn, a poem called “Delta”:
If you have taken this rubble for my past
raking through it for fragments you could sell
know that I long ago moved on
deeper into the heard of the matter
If you think you can grasp me, think again:
my story flows in more than one direction
a delta springing from the riverbed
with its five fingers spread
- From Judith Mosley, formerly a source, now an FB friend, an excerpt from a poem called “Integrity”:
Anger and tenderness: my selves.
And now I can believe they breathe in me
as angels, not polarities.
Anger and tenderness: the spider's genius
to spin and weave in the same action
from her own body, anywhere --
even from a broken web.
- From Louise Quayle, three beautiful lines from “Twenty-One Love Poems,” in The Dream of a Common Language:
What kind of beast would turn its life into words?
What atonement is this all about?
--and yet, writing words like these, I’m also living.
You may also like
You need to be logged in to comment.
(If there's one thing we know about comment trolls, it's that they're lazy)