i wrote a lot this week, thanks to the inspiration of the monthly writing circle i help to facilitate. There are a number of pieces that need some fine tuning, but this one is ready to spread its little wings…
tongue tied
(c) 2012 margaux delotte-bennett
your native tongue drips from my lips
sometimes
syllables formed in throats open
and hungry
we speak in a language still being born
because it has
no cultural context
no historical notions
no links to a particular time while
claiming a certain space
our bodies long to speak the language
that our tongues are trying to create
bodies long and straight
tongues curled and warm
dancing across palates and teeth spread to await
the safe passage through
parted lips
ready
to be filled.
Filed under: love
i had the opportunity to attend a beautiful wedding in February and this is what i learned…
deaf love
© 2012 margaux delotte-bennett
deaf love is not silent
much like deaf life
hearts joined beat louder
shine brighter
expect bigger things from souls, families and friends joined in a union
preserved and
presided over
to make this love official
before the law
though it is already written where it counts
most
in hearts and hands
joined
together
in a life bigger than two arms
can span
it is good that there are now four
and more
waving in celebration
shaking in delight
joining to cup and cradle other hands
offered freely
in love
I had a few rough drafts that i started this week, but this piece is the closest i have to a finished poem worthy enough to be shared.
sometimes when a relationship/ connection ends, all that one is left with is a poem. while this poem was being written, i was unclear if it had a particular muse/ catalyst/ proper subject because who it was about kept shifting, though the feelings remained…
I want to love you in French
© 2011 by margaux delotte-bennett
I want to love you in French
tongues tickled and tied
as we try to plant language
into the back of each others’ throats
seeds of love housed in
sacre coeurs, hearts made holy
by love in a tongue
not native to either of us
nor claimed by our mothers
this romantic language working as a bridge
over which we both tip and toe
towards the center
where we meet
in the 6th grade I began French lessons
I started to revel in the sounds of this tongue
the source of my name
the inspiration for the sultry and amorous conquests of
Pepe Le Pew
and the misnomer for the fried potatoes I have always loved
a cultural appropriation that was not quite accurate
but pervasive all the same
French came to you also by Pepe’s conquests
but on the tip of a bayonet
soon fashioned into a
baguette avec fromage or boeuf au jus
colonization led to
an official language
an African education system infiltrated by European standards
architectural motifs guiding the design of wooden balconies and verandas
I want to love you in French
with a nouveau vocabulaire, new words to describe
the feelings I am allowing myself to explore
you seem willing to teach
and I am willing to learn
Prêts à aimer
ready to love
aujourd’hui
today
Filed under: love
on having fallen
(c) 2012 by margaux delotte-bennett
i have fallen for you
like one falls for a live elephant
the first time one lays eyes on its majestic beauty in the flesh
it is a love of possession
a hunger to hold
what must be free
a need to make the larger than life
small enough to fit
into the four chambers of the heart
a desire to keep the gentle
and world wised eyes
locked on this face
alone
and yet
the knowledge that keeps one from forsaking all rationality
from throwing caution to the wind
and consummating one’s
amorous intentions with the unsuspecting pachyderm
also keeps
me
from fully falling
for you
brand new! just finished this one a few moments ago. enjoy!
what she has never done
© 2011 by margaux Delotte-bennett
she knows what she has never done
she has never lost herself in love
her grip on what is too tight
or light when it comes to
should and might
wanting to follow
often defaulted to lead
but only as far as the current need
she has never lost herself in love
arms reaching out in surrender
white flags waving overhead
off guard and unprotected
fully open to what can be envisioned by we
because me and I can only try to be complete
she knows what she has never done
she has never lost herself in love
running completely wild and free
without scars
without restraint
speeding towards her heart
housed outside of her body
yet overflowing with her love
given and received
love under which she can gleam
she has never lost herself in love
forgetting her choices
her fears
her need to control what, where and when
not the lost of the misplaced
overlooked
a something special no longer found
where it was supposed to be
but the lost of the traveler
discovering where this road will lead
envisioning the magic that can only be found behind
that door
so she continues to search
to uncover
to explore
because losing herself in love
is all she really longs to do
Filed under: love
poem is in quotes because this is actually a new song for a piece my friend binah wrote a while back. i was vibrating on how we see rivers and how we see women. i aimed to write a love song that honors them both…
river women
(c) 2011 by margaux delotte-bennett
strong river woman
thrash the rocks and the trees
quiet river woman
kiss the face of the breeze
fast river woman
twist and turn out of sight
my river woman
fill my heart with your might
sweet river woman
quench my thirst and my mind
still river woman
keep your secrets and mine
deep river woman
explore the depth of your soul
my river woman
claim your banks as my home
wild river woman
crest and crash, splash and fall
flowing river woman
guiding rafts gently on
raging river woman
fight your way up the riverside
my river woman
full of power, promise, pride
my river woman
full of power, promise, pride
my river woman
full of power, promise, pride
what does post-racial even mean? i have not a clue, but it seemed like a good title for this post that is very racial and sometimes a little wrong, but hopefully in a good way! here is a silly poem that danced in my head before finally making it out and onto some paper. please don’t take it too seriously, though there is some truth found within…
brown boy renaissance
© 2011 by margaux delotte-bennett
my heart is having a brown boy renaissance
it is centered and open
as it dances around trees
waiting patiently for its Bollywood hero
kicking
singing
sliding across rooms on his knees
before jumping up
shoulders shaking
as he dances around me…
my heart is having a brown boy renaissance
if you hail directly from any of the four corners of the continent
and your mother tongue starts with a Ki-
the rights of passage through which you came of age
wasn’t a hodge podge of activities
gleaned from TV,
but you have a spear or at least a big stick
call me?
my heart is having a brown boy renaissance
if corn and its derivatives make up most of your diet
even in sauces and drinks
I’m willing to try it!
and if various wars on drugs have decimated
your family, culture or land
give me a try
beside you I’ll stand…
my heart is having a brown boy renaissance
be it Arab summer
or Arab spring
brown boys taking a stand
makes my heart sing
I will be your cheerleader
your champion
your main supporter to a tee
now if I can only get these brown boys
to want me!
the poem of the week for this week is an older poem, but it was recently reprised for a wonderful art event last Friday with Tina S. Lassiter. Her goddess collages and photographs will be on display at the 5th and K Busboys & Poets until early October. Her art can be found in this post and here and her blog can be found here. I hope that you are taking some time to fully savor your lives…
Taste
© 2001-2004 by margaux delotte-bennett
I hunger
and begin to search for you
yet all I have is your taste in my mouth
and on my mind
my taste buds scream out
because the salt of your skin is like the sweetest ambrosia
it is as if your pores are honeycomb
that forever runneth over
I hunger
and the taste of your breath still lingers
and leads me on
my tongue starts to tingle
to quake
shake
to palpitate as my salivary glands start to stream
my eyes skim over the horizon
to find the only thing that will satiate me
sweet retreats as
sour devours me
salt causes a halt
as bitter titters my name’s hungry refrain
and combinations tastefully concocted
still leave me
famished
ears plugged and eyes closed
to focus all energy
on the tip of my tongue
which waits
so hungrily
for you
Filed under: love
mariposa de ryelena
a poem for ryan, joel and santa elena, costa rica
(c) 2011 by margaux delotte-bennett
there is something about butterflies
that gives one pause
as if each flutter of wings
is just short of
amazing
our spirit follows the curly cue path
from petal to petal
up wind and down
as we stand
with bated breath
still with wonder.
how can something so delicate
burst
in and out of sight
and command
our undivided attention
before once again
simply
taking flight…?
greetings to one and all!
this week i used one of my pieces to inspire a new poem. i have a short play call “the lie” in which Sweet Thing (from Nina Simone’s song Four Women) had a chat with one of her long time clients/ friends. Sweet Thing is explaining that she is complex, and should be viewed as such. in her own words she explains, “i am the candle holder and the flame. cyril, i am that shell that stands in front of you even when i’m tired to the bone. i’m not just holes and smell goods and ‘special’ needs.”
this piece takes that sentiment a bit further…
my spark
© 2011 by margaux delotte-bennett
as I stand before you
I am the candle and the flame
wax
cotton wick
pigment or not
sulphur strike
phosphorous ignite
flickering stillness
bright
warm
beginning and end unclear
at the point of intersection
I firmly stand
here
I have the inherent potential
to burn your house down
have your babies run screaming into the night
in my wholeness
I have the ability to cast shadows
that kiss your face
when you settle down to a dinner
lit by me
I am utility
comfort
charm
grace
sometimes discarded for use
at a needed time and place
standing here
I wonder
can you see the glow
in my face?
