poem of the day: Hope’s Hospice by Kwame Dawes

[today’s poem recognizes  1) Dawe’s work in Jamaica against HIV/AIDS and 2)  the AIDS 2012 Conference in Washington, DC this week).

Both links provide additional information and inspiration.]

Hope’s Hospice

Kwame Dawes  (link)


(poem of the day) ‘Tornado Child’ by Kwame Dawes

Tornado Child

Kwame Dawes

For Rosalie Richardson

I am a tornado child.
         I come like a swirl of black and darken up your day;
         I whip it all into my womb, lift you and your things,
         carry you to where you’ve never been, and maybe,
         if I feel good, I might bring you back, all warm and scared,
         heart humming wild like a bird after early sudden flight.
I am a tornado child.
         I tremble at the elements. When thunder rolls my womb
         trembles, remembering the tweak of contractions
         that tightened to a wail when my mother pushed me out
         into the black of a tornado night.
I am a tornado child,
         you can tell us from far, by the crazy of our hair;
         couldn’t tame it if we tried. Even now I tie a bandanna
         to silence the din of anarchy in these coir-thick plaits.
I am a tornado child
         born in the whirl of clouds; the center crumbled,
         then I came. My lovers know the blast of my chaotic giving;
         they tremble at the whip of my supple thighs;
         you cross me at your peril, I swallow light
         when the warm of anger lashes me into a spin,
         the pine trees bend to me swept in my gyrations.
I am a tornado child.
         When the spirit takes my head, I hurtle into the vacuum
         of white sheets billowing and paint a swirl of color,
         streaked with my many songs.

“Tornado Child” by Kwame Dawes, from Midland (Ohio University Press). Copyright © 2001 by Kwame Dawes.

source: Poetry Foundation