I think that the teenager I was fell in love with the idea of a teen girl poet. Her words spoke to me deeply. Btw… My apology for missing Sunday. I slept all day.
Sara Teasdale is one of two poets that I found through Irene Hunt’s coming of age novel. I fell in love with the poem “I shall not care” and had to search for more by her. Admitted, I have not researched the poet as well as I did her work.
Her writing is flowing and feels like love poetry with out the sappy nature of some love poetry. I chose four of her poems to share as my favorite of hers. I hope that you enjoy them as much as I do.
And a side note… I thoroughly recommend Up a Road Slowly by Irene Hunt. The story is dated, but it holds up well. The lessons the main character learns are just as valid sixty years later. I really felt like I was with her as she grew and matured.
Lyrics – They cry in the dark So you can’t see their tears They hide in the light So you can’t see their fears Forgive and forget All the while Love and pain become one and the same In the eyes of a wounded child Because hell, hell is for children And you know that their little lives can become such a mess Hell, hell is for children And you shouldn’t have to pay for your love With your bones and your flesh It’s all so confusing this brutal abusing They blacken your eyes and then apologize Be daddy’s good girl, and don’t tell mommy a thing Be a good little boy, and you’ll get a new toy Tell grandma you fell from the swing Because hell, hell is for children And you know that their little lives can become such a mess Hell, hell is for children And you shouldn’t have to pay for your love With your bones and your flesh No, hell is for children Hell, hell is for hell Hell is for hell Hell is for children Hell, hell is for hell Hell is for hell Hell is for children Hell, hell is for hell Hell is for hell Hell is for children Hell is for children Hell is for children
My 2 cents – so all of the poets that I will be telling you about helped me to start to heal. Well there were also some songs… This one helped me feel like I was not alone. I felt understood, A rare thing then.
So I have been thinking about this week and how much Tuesday has thrown off my schedule. My daughter was definitely more important and I have spent as much time as I could with her for her sweet 16th. So I also kinda missed my Monday poetry by telling y’all about my family.
A conversation with a friend of mine, another author, got my mind going. There are a few women poets who have been a big influence in my life. They helped me to survive and become me. So I am going to, until I cover each of them, share information about these poets daily. Yes it is going to include the weekend. I am also going to do next week’s normal posts if I have not finished by then.
I am starting with a legend. Maya Angelou.
Picture from snopes.com
I feel like her voice when she finally found it was what every survivor needed. A good deal of her poetry is about being a better person, about growing into something more. She was a woman of her age, and a activist who was an example for her community. For women, for women of color, for survivors, for people who are struggling. She was all of this, and more. She used this to leave words to inspire that will continue to help those who read them.
Her writing has a very lyrical quality. You can feel the rhythm as it is read. For me, there are several of her poems that resonate. I chose the three that I love most to share here. Her autobiography is a very interesting read. She was someone worth reading.
Pattimouse 