What It Feels Like, par Alice Walker

Alice Walker

What It Feels Like

As if I’ve swallowed

A watermelon

And

Sidestepping

My digestive tract

It has lodged

In my heart.

There it lies

Green

& whole

with a luscious

red

heart of its own

daring me

to cut.

#Americans #Blacks #PulitzerPrize #Women #XIXCentury #XXCentury

Vous avez aimé cette lecture ? Offrez-nous un café !.
Votre aide nous permet d'exister.

Préféré par...

Autres oeuvres par Alice Walker...

You Confide in Me

You confide in me that you are lonely,

When You Thought Me Poor

When you thought me poor, my poverty was shaming. When blackness was unwelcome we found it best that I stay home.

To Change the World Enough

To change the world enough you must cease to be afraid of the poor. We experience your fear as the lea… humiliations; in the past

I Said to Poetry

I said to Poetry:"I’m finished with you." Having to almost die before some wierd light comes creeping through

The Old Men Used to Sing

The old men used to sing And lifted a brother Carefully Out the door I used to think they

A Picture Story for the Curious

Reminding us, as they witnessed our curiosity about them, that no matter the losses, there’s something fabulous going on at every stage of Life, something to let go of, maybe, but for d...

If I Was PresidentIf I Was PresidentIf I Was President

If I was President The first thing I would do is call Mumia Abu—Jamal. No, if I was president

Blessed Are the Poor in Spirit

Did you ever understand this? If my spirit was poor, how could… Was I depressed? Understanding editing, I see how a comma, removed or inse…

Desire

My desire is always the same; wherever Life deposits me: I want to stick my toe & soon my whole body

Expect Nothing

Expect nothing. Live frugally On surprise. become a stranger To need of pity Or, if compassion be freely

Going Out to the Garden

Going out to the garden this morning to plant seeds for my winter greens —the strong, fiery mustard

La Vaca

Look into her eyes and know: She does not think

I Will Keep Broken Things

I will keep Broken things: The big clay Pot

Occupying Mumia’s Cell

I Sing of Mumia brilliant and strong and of the captivity that few black men escape

Be Nobody's Darling

Be nobody’s darling; Be an outcast. Take the contradictions Of your life And wrap around

Alice Walker