Men are taught to take what they please
Women are taught to relinquish their treasures with a smile.
It’s why women mistake brutality for love
And men believe a woman’s body is for them
to seize without consequences.
***
Did you enjoy this poem? You can find this poem and many others in Bleed Like Me: Poems for the Broken
Release Date: October 1, 2019
Publisher: Gallery Books
Price: $14.99 (paperback)
In this stunning third collection from Madisen Kuhn, Madisen eloquently analyzes some of life’s universal themes within the framework of a house. Whether it’s the garden, the bedroom, or the front porch, Madisen takes you into her own “home,” sharing some of the most intimate parts of her life so that you might also, someday, feel free to share some of yours.
Filled with beautiful hand-drawn illustrations from Melody Hansen, this boldly intimate, preternaturally wise, and emotionally candid collection encourages you to consider what home means to you—whether it’s in the lush, green-lawned suburbs or a city apartment—and, more importantly, explores how you can find it even when home feels like it’s on the far-off horizon.
For someone like me who has been on the move since I was born, reading a book that explores the meaning of home was very relatable. What’s the difference between a house and a home? And how do you know when one feels just like a house and what makes a home a home? The poetry is very heartfelt and emotional. For some home is a physical place or location, while for others the meaning of home is a person. What makes us feel at home? Ultimately, it’s the place where we feel safe.
One of the most poignant lines was, “I am jealous of what you have but not of who you are. Regardless it withers me.” I’m sure many people have often felt this way, feeling envious of what someone may have but not being particularly keen on the person in question.
Many of the poems explore the meaning of finding a home within a person. I think that we all yearn to feel at home with someone, although oftentimes that is merely a mirage and we’re far lonelier together than when we are alone.
This poetry collection really hits a nerve for me because of my incessant search to feel at home. If you’re a fan of Rupi Kaur or Amanda Lovelace, then this book is for you.
*Thank you so much to NetGalley and Gallery Books for the digital copy of this book in exchange for an honest review!
Release Date: January 21, 2019
Price: $4
Publisher: Patchwork Press
If there’s anything Kala knows, it’s monsters.
Witchcraft and Monsters is a debut poetry collection by Kala Godin.
Kala understands that the human body can be its own kind of monster. She knows the way strangers both see her and don’t.
There is magic in everything we do.
And there are monsters in each of us.
This collection is broken into five parts.
Witchcraft.
Fairytales.
Bodies.
Bad ideas.
Endings.
Grade: A
Ever since Rupi Kaur and Lang Leav came to the scene, they’ve officially made poetry cool and the rise of poetry collections that can be found today are astounding. Poetry is having a golden age again, mostly thanks to Instagram where people share and repost bite-size poems. Since so many poetry collections have adopted the simplicity that made both Kaur and Leav famous, I was expecting to get relatively short poems in Kala Godin’s Witchcraft and Monsters poetry collection, but that wasn’t the case at all. These poems are a bit lengthier than what the Instagram crowd is used to, but they’re way more up my alley than the tiny four sentence poems that are being vastly shared today over social media.
The book itself is relatively short (roughly 54 pages) but the poems contained within those pages are powerful and thought-provoking. Godin has broken down the collection in five parts: Witchcraft, Fairytales, Bodies, Bad Ideas, and Endings. Many of the poems found within this collection are dark (again a plus for me as I enjoy darker literature) and very relatable and well-written. I have a soft spot for Fairytales and Myths, and in Part 2, Godin explores certain Greek myths and popular fairytales. In The Big Book of Mythology, the poet questions Hera’s decision on remaining with Zeus when he’s a serial cheater and it all boils down to loyalty.
Another section that I enjoyed a lot was Part 3 that dealt with how we see ourselves (our bodies) and how that relates to how we relate with others. One poem in this section explored how someone in a wheelchair likens herself to Medusa because many avoid eye contact with her, just like people did with the Greek monster.
This was a very solid poetry collection, and I actually look forward to reading more poems or any other writing from this author in the future. If you’re into dark and sinister literature, mythology, or feminist-themed poetry, then this collection is simply perfect to add to your collection.
*Thank you so much to NetGalley and Patchwork Press for the digital ARC of this novel in exchange for an honest review!
It was a blue February night
When I first stumbled in your dream.
I felt awkward swaying to your song
As you pulled off my bruised wings.
You were as persuasive as Mephistopheles,
Digging your nail in the pit of my heart.
But I wanted you to plunge into my heart
Where you could hide your ethereal song,
So that I could become your dream
And would no longer need my wings
To soar into you every night,
Like a devious Mephistopheles.
I’ve been yearning to hear your song
Because it makes the blue night
Seem less long, as I dream
Of a raging Mephistopheles,
Who craves to clip my wings
And shatter my bloody heart.
Recently I feel that the night
Passes by slowly, as I lick my wings
Alone. Because Stupidbitch has now become your song.
I now invade you in your dream.
I’m like a horny Mephistopheles
Who wants to fuck your heart.
I know you feel invulnerable when you dream
Because it’s the only place where you can break my wings.
For I’ve got an asphalt heart
Gained from a previous lover with a tainted song
Who used to beat his pain into me every night
Until I began to perceive him as Mephistopheles.
Yes, I know that I’m your dream
But I’m afraid that you’ll want to chew my wings.
You love the taste of the jasmine night
Found within their enchanted song.
You need to run before your heart
Gets devoured by Mephistopheles.
I should’ve confessed in your dream that night
That your song cannot burn my wings
Because I am Mephistopheles ready to claw my way into your heart.
Photo courtesy of parisapartment.wordpress.com
These frigid sheets mourn your soul.
This barren bed cries your name.
There’s nothing left of you in me.
You tore every particle that belonged
To you away.
This pale white pillow misses the weight of your head.
These useless rose petals wait to fall upon you.
Loneliness wraps its icy claws around me.
Devouring me without mercy.
You’re no longer here to cling to.
You’re no longer here to move closer to.
This bed never seemed so vast—so endless—
Without you—it’s infinite.
I hide beneath the covers but still no warmth I feel.
This room is in eternal winter
Ever since you left.
These fragile sheets yearn for your body.
This immense bed bleeds your essence.
I’m waiting here for you.
I shall always remain here—
Waiting for your return.
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1.
You taste of ashen
smoke. I swallowed bright colored
pills. You were danger.
2.
The snow kissed my hair
You kissed my lips, magically
winter melted, now.
3.
You deserve more
than seventeen syllables
my beautiful love.
4.
In a dressing room
You stole a kiss, tore my
dress, and forgot her.
5.
Before you kissed my
lips, you kissed my nose, and I
fell for you so hard.
6.
Drowning in your lust,
The rain clung to my hair like
your skin clung to mine.
7.
He murmured, “Your bloke
is wrong. All you ever needed
is a man like me.”
8.
Your kiss was deadly,
oxygen escaped like a
thief, in the cold night.
9.
Fire, you burned me through
until there was nothing left
But naked white bones.
10.
Dressed as a doting
nurse, I pushed you against the
wall and claimed you as mine.
11.
Berlin is icy
on my bare limbs, please don’t let
go. I just want you.
12.
A cozy hotel
is where I dropped my dress, and
my bestfriend title.
13.
Give back my records,
Your calloused fingers tugged my
hair, the night sparked flames.
14.
You used to hate me.
But your tongue worshiped every
part of me, for days.
15.
We passed each other,
Pulled me in a soft embrace.
It cut me in two.
16.
Music, two a.m.
You so young, and I so wise.
I stole your CDs.
17.
Your music captured
me. I stumbled into you
and inhaled the stars.
I was crashing stars before I met you,
Somehow it didn’t seem so self-destructive.
The rock star raped me of my heart,
Not many know that of me.
There’s a cut on the inside of my lip.
It’s like a wet passionate kiss that didn’t exist
But that still managed to fill my mouth with blood.
Your darkness is like the nocturne sky,
Beautiful and mesmerizing.
Enigmatic in its magic.
I was crashing stars before I met you.
And it felt quite sublime.
But your beauty gave me hope of
Perfect skies that parade paprika comets.
My past seems so distant whenever
Your beauty graces my eyes.
I was crashing stars before I met you.
But now I’m only gathering debris.
You’re a canvas of perfection,
From your azure eyes that sparkle with youth
To your candid complexion that’s pristine.
Not like me. I hide scars.
I was crashing stars before I met you.
It was a deadly pastime.
I was losing sense of time.
I’m heading towards a dying star.
But you fill me up with hope
That there’s still beauty in this world.
I was crashing stars before I met you.
It almost caused my demise.
It’s like a wet passionate kiss that never was
But that I can still taste the blood from
The cut it caused.
I was crashing stars before I met you.
And I thought I felt alright.
Until the stars robbed me of my beauty,
They were envious of my light.
Now your beauty radiates the light
I no longer possess.
And maybe, if I stand just close enough
To you, I’ll be able to regain
The light that you emanate.
I was crashing stars before I met you.
I was a dying star before I met you,
But your gentle beauty has filled me up with hope.
Now I’m on a rocket heading towards the brightest light.
By: Azzurra Nox
I took a shortcut through blood to get back to you.
I knew that your gaping wounds were still fairly new
For you to be able to finally let it all go.
You need this injection to get through this night.
I really hope now that you adore me as much as your dragon
Because after three years of battling against it
I have nothing to show but pure frigid waters that hang like
Lonely icicles from my eyes.
But when you’ve been smoking for too long
And Memnoch is walking in your shoes,
The only thing that surrounds you is a musky-drugged fog.
While the stage that we’re on becomes a broken ashtray
And, I the protagonist, a butted Marlboro.
“It’s only a matter of trust,” you say.
But when your favorite lover is White Eve instead of me
I do not have much trust left in me.
You carve my name into your arm
Thinking that I should be impressed.
But your gesture does not scream your love,
It merely whispers your derangement.
I wish I could drag you across filed nails,
So you would become pristine.
But I can only kiss you with these bruised lips,
Hoping that you will come around (for more).
Although you don’t seem to care
As you take another line from my breasts.
Your ocean eyes wander over space and time
Snatching the stoned affection you can find.
“Please don’t die,” I beg you.
I know of your secret lovers
That you keep hidden beneath black satin covers.
They’re going to blow your mind one of these days
Just as they did with all the others.
If only I could bring it all back to you
But there’s nothing I can do
Because you’re Poe without a muse,
Who merely craves for silver rockets
And playing Russian roulette with five bullets.
The smoke rises up and around your solar plexus
All I am for you is a Plastic Venus,
Ideal for viewing but not for loving.
You bestow your worship to the Green Goddess instead
Because she can let you see Heaven and Hell in your bed.
But remember that I now hold the power
Because I’ve raped all your lovers.
You’ll need to beg me before I’ll shoot you up.
I know how to fight back with an empty gun loaded with placebos.
By: Azzurra Nox
We got high at Griffith Park
Looked up at the Hollywood sign
and felt alive.
We shared kisses in Venice Beach
You strummed your guitar
and sang to me.
We danced along the streets
of Sunset Boulevard
While people watched with smiles.
It was summer,
The height of our love.
When winter came,
It took you away.
And I drove alone at
night in the lonely streets
of L.A.
Crying over our hapless Hollywood love
that no longer was.
By: Azzurra Nox
The Inkblotters 