Saturday, March 23, 2024

Daddy BY SYLVIA PLATH

  Daddy

You do not do, you do not do   
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot   
For thirty years, poor and white,   
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.

Daddy, I have had to kill you.   
You died before I had time——
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,   
Ghastly statue with one gray toe   
Big as a Frisco seal

And a head in the freakish Atlantic   
Where it pours bean green over blue   
In the waters off beautiful Nauset.   
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.

In the German tongue, in the Polish town   
Scraped flat by the roller
Of wars, wars, wars.
But the name of the town is common.   
My Polack friend

Says there are a dozen or two.   
So I never could tell where you   
Put your foot, your root,
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.

It stuck in a barb wire snare.   
Ich, ich, ich, ich,
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.   
And the language obscene

An engine, an engine
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.   
I began to talk like a Jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.

The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna   
Are not very pure or true.
With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck   
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
I may be a bit of a Jew.

I have always been scared of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.   
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You——

Not God but a swastika
So black no sky could squeak through.   
Every woman adores a Fascist,   
The boot in the face, the brute   
Brute heart of a brute like you.

You stand at the blackboard, daddy,   
In the picture I have of you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot   
But no less a devil for that, no not   
Any less the black man who

Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.   
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.

But they pulled me out of the sack,   
And they stuck me together with glue.   
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look

And a love of the rack and the screw.   
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I’m finally through.
The black telephone’s off at the root,   
The voices just can’t worm through.

If I’ve killed one man, I’ve killed two——
The vampire who said he was you   
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.

There’s a stake in your fat black heart   
And the villagers never liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.   
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I’m through

Modern life


 

Thursday, March 21, 2024

Nullo by Jean Toomer

 

Nullo

  • Share on Facebook
  • Share on Twitter
  • Share on Tumblr
  • View print mode

A spray of pine-needles,
Dipped in western horizon gold,
Fell onto a path.
Dry moulds of cow-hoofs.
In the forest.
Rabbits knew not of their falling,
Nor did the forest catch aflame.

Monday, March 18, 2024

Girl By Jamaica Kincaid June 19, 1978

 Photograph by Nina Leen  Time Life Pictures  Getty

Photograph by Nina Leen / Time Life Pictures / Getty

Wash the white clothes on Monday and put them on the stone heap; wash the color clothes on Tuesday and put them on the clothesline to dry; don’t walk bare-head in the hot sun; cook pumpkin fritters in very hot sweet oil; soak your little cloths right after you take them off; when buying cotton to make yourself a nice blouse, be sure that it doesn’t have gum in it, because that way it won’t hold up well after a wash; soak salt fish overnight before you cook it; is it true that you sing benna in Sunday school?; always eat your food in such a way that it won’t turn someone else’s stomach; on Sundays try to walk like a lady and not like the slut you are so bent on becoming; don’t sing benna in Sunday school; you mustn’t speak to wharf-rat boys, not even to give directions; don’t eat fruits on the street—flies will follow you; but I don’t sing benna on Sundays at all and never in Sunday school; this is how to sew on a button; this is how to make a buttonhole for the button you have just sewed on; this is how to hem a dress when you see the hem coming down and so to prevent yourself from looking like the slut I know you are so bent on becoming; this is how you iron your father’s khaki shirt so that it doesn’t have a crease; this is how you iron your father’s khaki pants so that they don’t have a crease; this is how you grow okra—far from the house, because okra tree harbors red ants; when you are growing dasheen, make sure it gets plenty of water or else it makes your throat itch when you are eating it; this is how you sweep a corner; this is how you sweep a whole house; this is how you sweep a yard; this is how you smile to someone you don’t like too much; this is how you smile to someone you don’t like at all; this is how you smile to someone you like completely; this is how you set a table for tea; this is how you set a table for dinner; this is how you set a table for dinner with an important guest; this is how you set a table for lunch; this is how you set a table for breakfast; this is how to behave in the presence of men who don’t know you very well, and this way they won’t recognize immediately the slut I have warned you against becoming; be sure to wash every day, even if it is with your own spit; don’t squat down to play marbles—you are not a boy, you know; don’t pick people’s flowers—you might catch something; don’t throw stones at blackbirds, because it might not be a blackbird at all; this is how to make a bread pudding; this is how to make doukona; this is how to make pepper pot; this is how to make a good medicine for a cold; this is how to make a good medicine to throw away a child before it even becomes a child; this is how to catch a fish; this is how to throw back a fish you don’t like, and that way something bad won’t fall on you; this is how to bully a man; this is how a man bullies you; this is how to love a man, and if this doesn’t work there are other ways, and if they don’t work don’t feel too bad about giving up; this is how to spit up in the air if you feel like it, and this is how to move quick so that it doesn’t fall on you; this is how to make ends meet; always squeeze bread to make sure it’s fresh; but what if the baker won’t let me feel t

Saturday, March 16, 2024

Young Girls’ Enchantment: Entrancing Viewers with Their Innocence and Sweet Charm

 

Charm ‎

The enchanting realm of captivating beauty, there exists a unique allure that surrounds little girls, casting a spell on observers with their sweet and pure essence. From their innocent smiles to their mesmerizing eyes, these young souls possess a captivating charm that renders onlookers spellbound, making it impossible to divert their gaze.

 

The beauty of little girls is characterized by a distinctive and ethereal quality. Their tender features, adorned with delicate rosy cheeks and cherubic smiles, exude a sense of innocence and joy that is unparalleled. Each glance captures hearts, drawing admirers to the purity and genuine nature that radiates through every expression.

 

However, the beauty of these young souls extends beyond mere external appearance; it emanates from the light within. Their eyes, often sparkling with curiosity and wonder, reflect a world untouched by cynicism and doubt. It is this inner radiance and genuine spirit that captivates observers, immersing them in a world of innocence and purity.

The beauty of little girls is characterized by a distinctive and ethereal quality. Their tender features, adorned with delicate rosy cheeks and cherubic smiles, exude a sense of innocence and joy that is unparalleled. Each glance captures hearts, drawing admirers to the purity and genuine nature that radiates through every expression.

 

However, the beauty of these young souls extends beyond mere external appearance; it emanates from the light within. Their eyes, often sparkling with curiosity and wonder, reflect a world untouched by cynicism and doubt. It is this inner radiance and genuine spirit that captivates observers, immersing them in a world of innocence and purity.

 

The beauty of little girls is characterized by a distinctive and ethereal quality. Their tender features, adorned with delicate rosy cheeks and cherubic smiles, exude a sense of innocence and joy that is unparalleled. Each glance captures hearts, drawing admirers to the purity and genuine nature that radiates through every expression.

 

However, the beauty of these young souls extends beyond mere external appearance; it emanates from the light within. Their eyes, often sparkling with curiosity and wonder, reflect a world untouched by cynicism and doubt. It is this inner radiance and genuine spirit that captivates observers, immersing them in a world of innocence and purity.

 

In the presence of little girls, time seems to stand still. Their laughter, reminiscent of tinkling bells, permeates the air with a sense of joy and mirth. Their gentle gestures and carefree movements serve as a testament to the beauty of youth, reminding onlookers of the simplicity and unadulterated happiness found in life’s smallest moments.




202
51
67

Russian passover


 

Pretty doll 5


 

Children of God