I may not know a lot about poetry, but I do know amount about feelings, and Rupi Kaur writes about love and loss, trauma, and femininity, she writes incest, sexual abuse, patriarchy and loss of innocence. She writes of feminist sisterhood, sexual bliss, and obsessive love. She writes of the body and spirit from a place of chaotic emotion.
she addresses what it feels like to be broken, to be loved, and to be stronger on one's own. This collection, speaks on topics like female empowerment, getting over heartbreak, or what it means to love.
Kaur also proclaims her adoration for female body hair A subject which Is typically Taboo and Topic which women still shame about, Rupi Kaur carries strengthening to them, to the female body
This collection is moving and crude, art-filled these pages. I just have a love for this book. It speaks the words I've thought of but never spoken of outside of my mind.
I'm not one to read poetry often, but I just had to buy this book after hearing so many people talk about it It didn't disappoint. The poetry in this book is beautiful I related to many.
Milk and Honey are about happiness and despair, hurt and joy, love and sadness, and finding the strength to overcome your struggles. This assortment is solid. Brave. It's engaging. I didn't read this as Poetry but instead as a tribute to self-esteem and a battle for both ingrained excellence and quest for tranquility. This gives completely different importance of being selfish when it comes to My prosperity, my value and joy above any other individual.
Favorites From The Book
You've touched me
Without even
Touching me
I am a museum full of art
But you had your eyes shut
I am confident I am over you. so much that some
mornings i wake up with a smile on my face
my hands pressed together thanking the universe
for pulling you out of me. thank god i cry. thank
god you left. I would not be the empire i am today
if you had stayed.
but then.
there are some nights i imagine what i might do if
you showed up. how if you walked into the room
this very second every awful thing you've ever
done would be tossed out the closest window and
all the love would rise up again. it would pour
through my eyes as if it never really left in the first
place. as if it's been practicing how to stay silent
so long only so it could be this loud on your arrival.
can someone explain that. how even when the love
leaves. it doesn't leave. how even when i am so
past you. i am so helplessly brought back to you.
The very thought of you
Has my legs spread apart
Like an easel with a canvas
Begging for art
Your name is
The strongest
Positive and negative
Connotation in any language
It either light me up or
Leaves me aching for days
Thats the
Thing about love
It marinates your lips
Till the only word your
Mouth remembers
Is his name
The goddess between your legs
Makes mouths water
Our backs
Tell stories
No books have
The spine to
Carry
- women of color
