The Power of Poetry
I seldom feature poetry on my blogs, but about a month ago I ran a feature on Utanu Maa, a Canadian poet originally from the Democratic Republic of Congo, and her recent book of poetry entitled “Rise and Fall of My Beloved” which she describes as “my own journey into unconditional love and care, and the resilience to deal with pain, loss, grief, to grieve, heal and continue with life after my brother’s death.”An Excerpt Just for Readers of This Blog
The Speech
He lacked the speech and was teased, mocked.
People regularly targeted, labelled, and bullied him.
They did not believe in his ability to learn and succeed,
They repeatedly told him loudly, in his face
And ears with intent to persuade him about himself.
They predestined him for failure because he was unable to speak.
He remained silent for a long time, listening carefully.
He observed motions on their lips; he absorbed words and sounds.
Then, one early morning, still in bed,
While everyone was in their last dream or nightmare,
And when time had healed and ended his grieving,
The miracle happened: he spoke!
Words and sounds gusted out of his mouth
Like a volcano erupting after a century of long sleep,
He spoke, he spoke, and he spoke volumes!
He talked firmly to himself or maybe to an invisible entity or spirit,
Repeating verbatim words that he had been absorbing:
The same terms used to tease, label, and mock him,
To bully and denigrate him, to silence him and cast him out.
From the bed where I slept, after we were allowed,
I saw him walking outside like a soldier going to war,
Brave and determined to defend his persona with words!
The struggle was out there, and he went to fight it
With his only but most potent weapon: words!
Words used in a common way: verbally, loudly, and firmly.
He knew the power of words, used for any purpose.
Now equally equipped to face the struggle in his early life,
He spoke correctly just as he had observed words on lips,
Using the same words to tease, mock, or intimidate.
To the big disbelief of all, though I had prayed and pleaded
To my ancestors and God that one day he would speak,
Zola had proven at last his ability to pronounce words.
Soon he would go to school to learn words in books,
To write words on a blackboard or in a notebook,
On a wall or on the ground, carving on a tree or on leaves.
Words pronounced in speech to make a statement,
Words spoken with confidence in a native or foreign language,
Words used to argue, defend opinions, convince, and lead,
Words that would further educate and engineer his brain,
Words as a tool to beat all odds and rise exceptionally like a star,
Indeed, words were clearly spoken by his mouth from this point on.
What liberation, relief, blessing, and privilege!
Buy the Book
If you’re interesting in Utanu Maa’s work, you can purchase it at any of these places.
AMAZON.COM https://amazon.com/dp/0228836506
AMAZON.CA https://amazon.ca/dp/0228836506
KINDLE https://amazon.com/dp/B08M2DNJHP
BOOKSHOP https://bookshop.org/books/rise-and-fall-of-my-beloved/9780228836506
INDIGO CHAPTERS https://www.chapters.indigo.ca/en-ca/books/rise-and-fall-of-my/9780228836513-item.html
BARNES & NOBLE https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/rise-and-fall-of-my-beloved-utanu-maa/1138021915
BOOK DEPOSITORY https://www.bookdepository.com/Rise-and-Fall-of-My-Beloved-Utanu-Maa/9780228836506
RAKUTEN KOBO https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/rise-and-fall-of-my-beloved
SMASHWORDS https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1051884
APPLE BOOKS https://books.apple.com/us/book/rise-and-fall-of-my-beloved/id1538242460
For the full post about Utanu Maa, which was part of a blog tour sponsored by Goddess Fish, check out Rise and Fall of My Beloved.
Most of my life I’ve considered time, not money, to be my most valuable resource. Maybe I should have put it second to love, or joy, but if I’m honest with myself, I didn’t. Maybe I always thought I was going to die young. Lucky for me, I’m getting a little too old to do that …
The vision has morphed somewhat, allowing more modernization and convenience, but they still live a harsh and solitary life in a stunning location. Today’s big news is that they have found a way to have hot running water. They’ve both just taken their first shower at home at the turn of a knob since they began this life about a decade ago. They are quite pleased.
This is only partly a heartfelt tale about the effects of rape. It is just as much the story of an older lesbian woman seeking acceptance from her church after having spent years living with her partner but hiding the true nature of their relationship. Author E.S. Ruete tells a difficult story with compassion and bursts of eloquence.
But hope wasn’t quite the word I meant, any more than peace and joy had been with the first two books. I was trying to talk about refusing to let go of fears and animosity from the past, and refusing to give others a chance based on old experiences. And I was talking about the belief that humans cannot change, that they cannot learn to be, or choose to be, better.
I, and those with whom I share my politics, tend to look more towards tomorrow. Funding quality education for all yields a happy and capable workforce. Universal health care yields a healthier one. Peace negotiations and developing understanding yield a region that stays at peace, ideally at least. I’m more willing to sacrifice now for a better tomorrow, in my own life and in the choices I would make for society. It is one of my core values.
In fact, “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” is a song about hope … It basically says I’ll be there to help you , because no force is big enough to stop me. It’s the last part of the that message that gets my attention; the idea that nothing can be so big and so bad that it can’t be overcome by someone who wants to make things better.
Mr. Kimmel is associated with a group called TAT (
S. R. Cronin 