I'm so eager

To hear your thoughts on this

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p50wrd2JiX4

"nobody ever leaves home, unless home is a sweaty voice on your ears telling you to leave"

"you have to understand that no one puts their children in a boat unless the sea is safer than the land"

Okay no more spoiling go hear :P

:( omg......did she really start crying...when her voice broke so did my heart.

It's nice hearing the voice behind the words. Ever since you got me reading her blog I've always wondered what she sounds like, now I know!

It was a great recital and a powerful poem

So heartfelt
also the black and white clips, I was taken by the ant. it takes you to the detail, the detail of pain, words....

She's a somali writer living in london.. the way she tears up at the end really gets to me. I can relate to this poem so much because i'm an immigrant too... She's.... She's just... Sigh..... Warsan

THURSDAY, 31 DECEMBER 2009

questions for miriam.
thank you caits meissner, for writing
"questions for yusef" for stealing my breath and inspiring me.

--

Questions for Miriam

were you ever lonely?

did you tell people that songs weren't
ever the same as a warm body or a soft mouth
did you know how to say no to the young boys
who cried outside your hotel rooms
did you listen to the songs they wrote
mouth's bloody with praise for woman like you
miriam, did you see them holding bottles by the neck

hair on arms raising as your notes hovered
above their heads, what sweaty bars did you begin in
whose husbands did you first love
miriam did you know of the girls who sang into their fists
mimicking your brilliance
did they know that you were only human

did your songs taste different when your daughter died
was burying her a township burning in your stomach
how did you keep the pain off your face and
why didn't your clicks become howls

my own parents played your music at their
wedding called you makeba never Miriam
never first name always singer
never wife never daughter never mother
never lover aching

did you tell people that songs weren't the
same as a warm body or a soft mouth
miriam i've heard people using your songs as prayer
begging god in falsetto, you were a city exiled from skin
your mouth a burning church, i've carved my own body
into districts, rioting my throat sore
your songs fed starving women miriam
made quiet the need to hate my own body

tell me, who kissed your mouth silent
who helped moan the songs out of your stomach
did you ever spit out blood,
were you ever silent for days
were there months when your husband

grieved your voice, did you ever hate them
the arms thrusting out of crowds
did you ever hate us
the banshees in the audience
the little girl dervishes in their small
living rooms, dish cloth tied to head swirling
like their skin depended on it

did we want too much of you
did our love make it hard for you to sing
did it fill up the air
arena panting a thousand people
who tasted the salt of their lovers through you

is there a man walking around somewhere
beard clotted with your lung
did you ever pat down your body for limbs after a
concert and find your torso a cathedral of ribs

did you ever write drunk elegies for your heart
were you too embarrassed to sing them for us
was your strength a show piece of staccato and timbre
did you howl belly up in rented rooms, open suitcase
air thick with cigar smoke and roses

oh, miriam who we made sing at her own funeral
was a song warmer than a body, were you
lonelier than those sobbing over your cassettes
and can you forgive us if we still want
your voice singing us out, at our own funerals