One of the things I look for when it comes to poets I will admire is the weight of their words. While some poets take you on a lazy Sunday, countryside walk, some grab you by the sleeves and punch you in the gut. At the very least, they make you clutch your chest and catch your breath. At most, they have the power to wake up something inside you, to acknowledge the truth that you’ve hidden somewhere in your mind, to tell you something you know already.
Such is the case with some poets I love: Charles Bukowski, Sylvia Plath, Warsan Shire, Sarah Kay. And just last week, I discovered another jewel, Q. Gibson.
Q. Gibson’s The Flowering Woman took me by surprise. Truth be told, at this point, I’m not really expecting to have another powerful poet added to my list. But Q. Gibson’s power lies in the gentle way she reminds women of their worth. While Warsan’s words are heavy, Gibson’s words feel like a mother’s hug. When I read her work, I see in my mind, a mother hugging her daughter to her chest, sharing heartbreaks and stories.
I look forward to reading more of her work. She is definitely someone to add to your watch list.
Your space is a privilege. It is the intangible home you built with sweat, tears and blood. Your space is sacred. It is not a place for people to come and go as they please. Everyone doesn’t need access. Greet them at the front door, and then, proceed with caution.
there is no perfect man.
There are only men we choose to love
and the men we choose not to.
There are men we choose to tolerate
and those we don’t.
There are men we accept as they already are
and can stand alongside to watch
come into themselves,
just as they watch us come into ourselves.