Alice Andrews

Borgerliga intressen men hjärtat till vänster. Välkommen till min högst osporadiska blogg.



  • Tag: poesi


    A new pair of shoes (Afghanistan)

    Jag skrev en dikt om Afghanistan igår, efter att ha sett nyheterna. Den heter A new pair of shoes (Afghanistan). 16/8-2021

    A new pair of shoes
    Nothing to lose
    I don’t need them but I want them
    They would need them but cannot have them
    I decided not to buy
    They decided they’d rather die
    Falling from an airplane
    I just want to cry

    Because what are new shoes
    When your country is bleeding
    They have nothing to lose
    But the hope of fleeing
    Twenty years of progress
    Shuttered in one breath
    Europe is a fortress
    Afghanistan is death

    What are new shoes
    When revolutionaries are under attack?
    When one step forward
    Meant a thousand leaps back
    When the talibans are hunting down
    Every critical voice
    When clinging to an airplane
    Was their only choice



  • Tag: poesi


    Milk and honey

    Nu har jag läst ut poesisamlingen Milk and honey av Rupi Kaur. Rupi Kaur, född 1992 (!), föddes i Indien och migrerade till Kanada med sin familj. Hon har skrivit en diktsamling som sålt i över en miljon exemplar, och varit på New York Times bestseller list i över ett år. Och det är förståeligt. Det här en väldigt vacker bok, indelad i fyra delar: the hurting, the loving, the breaking, the healing. I boken har Kaur själv skrivit:

    milk and honey is a
    collection of boetry about
    love
    loss
    trauma
    abuse
    healing
    and femininity
    it is split into four chapters
    each chapter serves a different purpose
    deals with a different pain
    heals a different heartache
    milk and honey takes readers through
    a journey of the most bitter moments in life
    and finds sweetness in them
    because there is sweetness everywhere
    if you are just willing to look.

    Image result for rupi kaur

    Jag tyckte om diktsamlingen mycket. Jag läste den långsamt med pauser emellan, för det krävs eftertänksamhet när en läser poesi. Det är vackert, sorgligt, empowering och rått på samma gång. Jag vek hundöron vid de stycken jag tyckte om bäst, så här är ett axplock.

    Ur the hurting

    i’ve had sex she said
    but i don’t know
    what making love
    feels like

    our knees
    pried open
    by cousins
    and uncles
    and men
    our bodies touched
    by all the wrong people
    that even in a bed full of safety
    we are afraid

    Ur the loving

    he places his hands
    on my mind
    before reaching
    for my waist
    my hips
    or my lips
    he didn’t call me
    beautiful first
    he called me
    exquisite
    – how he touches me

    the very thought of you
    has my legs spread apart
    like an easel with a canvas
    begging for art

    i do not want to have you
    to fill the empty parts of me
    i want to be full on my own
    i want to be so complete
    i could light a whole city
    and then
    i want to have you
    cause the two of us combined
    could set it on fire

    Ur the breaking

    i don’t know what living a balanced life feels like
    when i am sad
    i don’t cry i pour
    when i am happy
    i don’t smile i glow
    when i am angry
    i don’t yell i burn
    the good thing about feeling in extreme is
    when i love i give them wings
    but perhaps that isn’t
    such a good thing cause
    they always tend to leave
    and you should see me
    when my heart is broken
    i don’t grieve
    i shatter

    Ur the healing

    you tell me
    i am not like most girls
    and learn to kiss me with your eyes closed
    something about the phrase – something about
    how i have to be unlike the women
    i call sisters in order to be wanted
    makes me want to spit your tongue out
    like i am supposed to be proud you picked me
    as if i should be relieved you think
    i am better than them

    Kaur har också gjort illustrationer till boken. Enkla och vackra som ger ytterligare en dimension till orden.

    Image result for rupi kaur

    LÄS!

     


Om mig

En (snart) trettioårig person med (snart) tjugo års (!) bloggkarriär, som nuförtiden mest upprätthåller bloggandet för min egen nostalgis skull, men du är förstås välkommen att hänga på. Skriver mest om kultur jag konsumerar, men även om min vardag, politik och annat smått och gott. Borgerliga intressen – god mat och vin, vackra tavlor, klassisk litteratur och dyra sporter – med hjärtat på rätt ställe (d.v.s. vänster).

Kategorier

Arkiv

A new pair of shoes (Afghanistan)

Jag skrev en dikt om Afghanistan igår, efter att ha sett nyheterna. Den heter A new pair of shoes (Afghanistan). 16/8-2021

A new pair of shoes
Nothing to lose
I don’t need them but I want them
They would need them but cannot have them
I decided not to buy
They decided they’d rather die
Falling from an airplane
I just want to cry

Because what are new shoes
When your country is bleeding
They have nothing to lose
But the hope of fleeing
Twenty years of progress
Shuttered in one breath
Europe is a fortress
Afghanistan is death

What are new shoes
When revolutionaries are under attack?
When one step forward
Meant a thousand leaps back
When the talibans are hunting down
Every critical voice
When clinging to an airplane
Was their only choice


Om mig

En (snart) trettioårig person med (snart) tjugo års (!) bloggkarriär, som nuförtiden mest upprätthåller bloggandet för min egen nostalgis skull, men du är förstås välkommen att hänga på. Skriver mest om kultur jag konsumerar, men även om min vardag, politik och annat smått och gott. Borgerliga intressen – god mat och vin, vackra tavlor, klassisk litteratur och dyra sporter – med hjärtat på rätt ställe (d.v.s. vänster).

Kategorier

Arkiv

Tag: poesi

  • A new pair of shoes (Afghanistan)

    Jag skrev en dikt om Afghanistan igår, efter att ha sett nyheterna. Den heter A new pair of shoes (Afghanistan). 16/8-2021

    A new pair of shoes
    Nothing to lose
    I don’t need them but I want them
    They would need them but cannot have them
    I decided not to buy
    They decided they’d rather die
    Falling from an airplane
    I just want to cry

    Because what are new shoes
    When your country is bleeding
    They have nothing to lose
    But the hope of fleeing
    Twenty years of progress
    Shuttered in one breath
    Europe is a fortress
    Afghanistan is death

    What are new shoes
    When revolutionaries are under attack?
    When one step forward
    Meant a thousand leaps back
    When the talibans are hunting down
    Every critical voice
    When clinging to an airplane
    Was their only choice


    Jag skrev en dikt om Afghanistan igår, efter att ha sett nyheterna. Den heter A new pair of shoes (Afghanistan). 16/8-2021 A new pair of shoesNothing to loseI don’t need them but I want themThey would need them but cannot have themI decided not to buyThey decided they’d rather dieFalling from an airplaneI just want…

  • Milk and honey

    Nu har jag läst ut poesisamlingen Milk and honey av Rupi Kaur. Rupi Kaur, född 1992 (!), föddes i Indien och migrerade till Kanada med sin familj. Hon har skrivit en diktsamling som sålt i över en miljon exemplar, och varit på New York Times bestseller list i över ett år. Och det är förståeligt. Det här en väldigt vacker bok, indelad i fyra delar: the hurting, the loving, the breaking, the healing. I boken har Kaur själv skrivit:

    milk and honey is a
    collection of boetry about
    love
    loss
    trauma
    abuse
    healing
    and femininity
    it is split into four chapters
    each chapter serves a different purpose
    deals with a different pain
    heals a different heartache
    milk and honey takes readers through
    a journey of the most bitter moments in life
    and finds sweetness in them
    because there is sweetness everywhere
    if you are just willing to look.

    Image result for rupi kaur

    Jag tyckte om diktsamlingen mycket. Jag läste den långsamt med pauser emellan, för det krävs eftertänksamhet när en läser poesi. Det är vackert, sorgligt, empowering och rått på samma gång. Jag vek hundöron vid de stycken jag tyckte om bäst, så här är ett axplock.

    Ur the hurting

    i’ve had sex she said
    but i don’t know
    what making love
    feels like

    our knees
    pried open
    by cousins
    and uncles
    and men
    our bodies touched
    by all the wrong people
    that even in a bed full of safety
    we are afraid

    Ur the loving

    he places his hands
    on my mind
    before reaching
    for my waist
    my hips
    or my lips
    he didn’t call me
    beautiful first
    he called me
    exquisite
    – how he touches me

    the very thought of you
    has my legs spread apart
    like an easel with a canvas
    begging for art

    i do not want to have you
    to fill the empty parts of me
    i want to be full on my own
    i want to be so complete
    i could light a whole city
    and then
    i want to have you
    cause the two of us combined
    could set it on fire

    Ur the breaking

    i don’t know what living a balanced life feels like
    when i am sad
    i don’t cry i pour
    when i am happy
    i don’t smile i glow
    when i am angry
    i don’t yell i burn
    the good thing about feeling in extreme is
    when i love i give them wings
    but perhaps that isn’t
    such a good thing cause
    they always tend to leave
    and you should see me
    when my heart is broken
    i don’t grieve
    i shatter

    Ur the healing

    you tell me
    i am not like most girls
    and learn to kiss me with your eyes closed
    something about the phrase – something about
    how i have to be unlike the women
    i call sisters in order to be wanted
    makes me want to spit your tongue out
    like i am supposed to be proud you picked me
    as if i should be relieved you think
    i am better than them

    Kaur har också gjort illustrationer till boken. Enkla och vackra som ger ytterligare en dimension till orden.

    Image result for rupi kaur

    LÄS!

     


    Nu har jag läst ut poesisamlingen Milk and honey av Rupi Kaur. Rupi Kaur, född 1992 (!), föddes i Indien och migrerade till Kanada med sin familj. Hon har skrivit en diktsamling som sålt i över en miljon exemplar, och varit på New York Times bestseller list i över ett år. Och det är förståeligt. Det här…