Whatever you love, you are

SOME LOVERS

Some lovers are born
with a sweet talk deficiency.

Have you noticed?
Some lovers
can only say honey
if they're
reading
it
off a jar.

Sweetheart
& sugar
make them
think
of
cow's brains.

When they
hear the word
heart
it makes
them think
of Mother
therefore
of bread.
And
of her teaching
about
how to
dress up
less tasty
parts of
a carcass:
like
spleen.

Sugar
they've
lately
learned
is
poison
so --
no need
to go
there.

I happen
to like
a lover
who
can
be redundant
with
the sweetness
somebody
who
can really
pour
it on.

Sweetheart, sweet'ums,
sugar darling, honey
pie
what's for
dinner
or
where
was the last place
you saw
my tie?

This is a joke
of course
the last
time
I saw
the tie
of wool
or cotton
this
one
might lose,
a sheep
or a plant
was
wearing
it.

How cruel
a lack
is
this deficiency
in
sweet talk!

You're
my little sugar
dumpling
is so
much
easier
in the
snugglung
than
having
that
woman
with
the master's
degree
visibly
stop
herself
from
calling
you
madam.

My name
is not
my name
you want
to shout:
It is
a label
for those
who will
never understand
content.

So what if all
he knows
(for your sake)
is how
to wash
the dishes
leaving
your kitchen
spotless
& your
floor
with
a shine.

So what
if the thing
she does
best
truth be told
is
crochet edges
onto old
flour
sacks
she found
in
a thrift
shop
that
just
closed.

There he is
there she is
listening
to the Temptations
& Martha and the Vandellas
& moaning

right
along.

Baby darling
sugar sweetness
honey peaches
agave princess
stevia muffin
what's wrong
with my oreciius
mango, apricot, watermelon, papaya
chutney
bliss
this morning?

Come to Mama
come to Papa
let's dance
those old sugar
too much sweetness!
blues
away.

ENCOUNTERING

Encountering
you
I
struck
a
wall:
You
do not
even
seem
to know
that
you
are hiding
behind
it.

These are
not
poems --
unsent
messages
to
the
deaf.


- both by Alice Walker from "Hard Times Require Furious Dancing"

Kindness

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and
purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a friend.

by Naomi Shihab Nye from “Words Under the Words”

오늘 시작한 책, Geneen Roth 의 Lost and Found 에서 찾은 시.
Kindness 를 알기 위해선 먼저 sorrow 를 먼저 알아야 한다.

(Source: Lost and Found 책에서)