Sorcery- Jessica Hagedorn

there are some people i know
whose beauty
is a crime.
who make you so crazy
you don't know
whether to throw yourself
at them
or kill them.
which makes
for permanent madness.
which could be
bad for you.
you better be on the lookout
for such circumstances.

stay away
from the night.
they most likely lurk
in the corners of the room
where they think
they being inconspicuous
but they so beautiful
an aura
gives them away.

stay away
form the day.
they most likely
be walking
down the street
when you least
expect it
trying to look
ordinary
but they so fine
they break your heart
by making you dream
of other possibilities.

stay away
from crazy music.
they most likely
be creating it
cuz
when you're that beautiful
you can't help
putting it out there.
everyone knows
how dangerous
that can get.

stay away
from magic shows.
especially those
involving words
words are very
tricky things.
everyone knows
words
the most common
instruments of
illusion.

they most likey
be saying them.
breathing poems
so rhythmic
you can't help
but dance.

and once
you start dancing
to words
you might never
stop.

This poem really drew my attention. I love how she is talking about how beautiful people are and how it makes her feel less about herself. She calls it from the start that she knows some people who are so beautiful that it is a crime. That it makes her feel mad, like she is about to go insane because she envy's them, she wishes that she could be that beautiful.  And how she stays away from beautiful music because she thinks that only beautiful people can make that kind of music and she is trying to avoid them. She is trying to avoid the fact that she will never be like them, how she will never be as beautiful as them. Which I think is a shame because you can never compare one persons beauty to another it just will lead to destroy yourself thinking that you need to change who you are, and how you look when you should be able to accept who you are and never run from that.

Sonia Sanchez- Personal Letter No. 3

nothing will keep us young you know not young men or women who spin their youth on cool playing sounds. we are what we are what we never think we are. no more wild geo graphies of the flesh. echoes. that we move in tune to slower smells. it is a hard thing to admit that  sometimes after midnight i am tired of it all.  This poem makes me think of someone who is fed up with their lives. It makes me think of someone who is trying to show the reader the truth behind all the lies we are told, and all the hopes that we as people have. From the start, "nothing will keep you as young as you know" as in, everything you have been told to keep you from aging isnt true because eventually you will age and nothing can stop it. No one ever wants to believe that they will age or that they will get weaker, but its the truth. You will age,  no matter what, yes you can prolong the look on your skin, but the effects will eventually show. I feel like the speaker is fed up with all the people who try so hard to keep from being something that they can not avoid, that they will have to overcome. No one will ever be happy unless they realize that it is a part of life. And the speaker says that sometimes she is tired of it all, I think she wants people to realize what they have and to be happy. And the title also reflects that because its a personal letter, its words that she feels but never says, maybe because shes afraid of hurting someone but she knows that she id fed up with all of it. She just wants to relax and live her life.

Amiri Baraka- Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note

Lately, I've become accustomed to the way
The ground opens up and envelopes me
Each time I go out to walk the dog.
Or the broad edged silly music the wind
Makes when I run for a bus...

Things have come to that.

And now, each night I count the stars.
And each night I get the same number.
And when they will not come to be counted,
I count the holes they leave.

Nobody sings anymore.

And then last night I tiptoed up
To my daughter's room and heard her
Talking to someone, and when I opened
The door, there was no one there...
Only she on her knees, peeking into

Her own clasped hands


When I read this poem it made me think of the depression that many people go through everyday. A lot of people feel the way that the narrator does. Like he feels like the ground opens up and covers him up. It made me think of people when they are overwhelmed and the feeling of being trapped by it.  And the detail of the sound the wind makes when he is running to for bus, I can place myself in those shoes, because it relates to me. How sometimes that feeling of being in a hurry and how your senses seem to be capture everything else around you, even when you are hurrying somewhere. And when he counts the stars, and all the holes in the sky where stars use to be, but they just holes now.
But there is always hope to me i  think because at the end he finds his daughter praying, he finds something good in the world even through his depression he has a light still. Even though he feels like the ground will ungulf him, and how he cant see the stars that use to be there, at least his daughter is, at least he is able to have something to keep him going.