It is difficult for me to describe the way I feel reading poetry by Yusef Komunyakaa. Reading his poetry for the first time was like finding something I had been looking for my entire life.
by Yusef Komunyakaa
I walked away with your face
stolen from a crowded room,
& the sting of required memory
lived beneath my skin. A name
raw on my tongue, in my brain, a glimpse
nestled years later like a red bird
among wet leaves on a dull day.
A face. The tilt of a head. Dark
lipstick. Aletheia. The unknown
marked on a shoulder, night
weather in our heads.
I pushed out of this half-stunned
yes, begging light, beyond the caul’s
shadow, dangling the lifeline of Oh.
I took seven roads to get here
& almost died three times.
How many near misses before
new days slouched into the left corner
pocket, before the hanging fruit
made me kneel? I crossed
five times in the blood to see
the plots against the future -
descendent of a house that knows
all my strong & weak points.
No bounty of love apples glistened
with sweat, a pear-shaped lute
plucked in the valley of the tuber rose
& Madonna lily. Your name untied
every knot in my body, a honey-eating
animal reflected in shop windows
& twinned against this underworld.
out of tide-lull & upwash
a perfect hunger slipped in
tooled by an eye, & This morning
makes us the oldest song in any god’s throat.
We had gone back walking
on our hands. Opened by a kiss,
by fingertips on the Abyssinian
stem & nape, we bloomed
from underneath stone. Moon-pulled
fish skirted the gang-plank,
a dung-scented ark of gopherwood.
Now you are on my skin, in my mouth
& hair as if you were always
unearthed like a necklace of sand dollars
out of black hush. You are a call
& response going back to the first
praise-lament, the old wish
made flesh. The two of us
a third voice, an incantation
sweet-talked & grunted out of The Hawk’s
midnight horn. I have you inside
a hard question, & it won’t let go,
hooked through the gills and strung up
to the western horizon. We are one,
burning with belief till the thing
inside the cage whimpers
& everything crazes out to a flash
of silver. Begged into the fat juice
of promises, our embrace is a naked
wing lifting us into premonition
worked down to a sigh & plea.