#hanif abdurraqib
Hanif Abdurraqib, In an Interview with Krista Tippett
When I Say That Loving Me Is Kind Of Like Being A Chicago Bulls Fan
Hanif Abdurraqib
what I mean is that my father can tell a bunch of cool stories about back in the day when I was truly great. there is a mountain of gold that has gathered dust in the corner where I used to sleep, and look at all of these pictures. in this one, I am wearing rainbow shorts and hurling rocks at a shoreline. in this one, I am smiling in the glow of 13 lit candles pushed into a sheet of dark sugar. you may ask why I allow my face to drown in less and less joy with each passing year and I will say I just woke up one day and I was a still photo in everyone else’s home but my own. or I will say I promise that my legs just need another season, and then I will be who you fell in love with again. and then I will probably just say I’m sorry that there was once a tremendous blue sky and then a decade of hard, incessant rain.
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See the poet read this. BuyA Fortune for Your Disasteror The Crown Ain’t Worth Much.
Today in:
2020:fromChildren Walk on Chairs to Cross a Flooded Schoolyard, Patrick Rosal
2019:If Life Is As Short As Our Ancestors Insist It Is, Why Isn’t Everything I Want Already At My Feet, Hanif Abdurraqib
2018:Bliss and Grief, Marie Ponsot
2017:Verge, Mark Doty
2016:Ever, Meghan O’Rourke
2015:The Two Times I Loved You the Most In a Car, Dorothea Grossman
2014:May Day, Phillis Levin
2013:The Triumph of the Infinite, Mark Strand
2012:Mermaid Song, Kim Addonizio
2011:the laughing heart, Charles Bukowski
2010:from Jenny, Genya Turovskaya
2009:A Step Away From Them, Frank O’Hara
2008:Entry, Lisa Sewell
2007:Meanwhile, Richard Siken
2006:Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note, Amiri Baraka
2005:Holy Sonnet XIV, John Donne
“the poem begins not where the knife enters but where the blade twists.”— Hanif Abdurraqib, from his poem ‘The Prestige’, published at Poets.Org
The Delicious Misery of the ‘Sad Banger’, by Hanif Abdurraqib
“I don’t know if I believe in rage as something always acting in opposition to tenderness. I believe, more often, in the two as braided together. Two elements of trying to survive in a world once you have an understanding of that world’s capacity for violence.”— Hanif Abdurraqib, from “Board Up the Doors, Tear Down the Walls,” in A Little Devil in America
(viafirstfullmoon)
have not stopped thinking about this poem by hanif adburraqib ever since i read it
“I am afraid to touch / anyone who might stay / long enough to make leaving / an echo”— A Fortune for Your Disaster, “FOR THE DOGS WHO BARKED AT ME ON THE SIDEWALKS IN CONNECTICUT” by Hanif Abdurraqib
“the poem begins not where the knife enters but where the blade twists.”— Hanif Abdurraqib, from his poem ‘The Prestige’, published at Poets.Org
onenemies to lovers
hanif abdurraqib it is once again the summer of my discontent and this is how we do it \ erté (romain de tirtoff) abondance [“plenty”] (1979) \ joy harjo conflict resolution for holy beings: “this morning i pray for my enemies” \ hilary faye calls to the clouds \peaky blinders s1e6 \ magnus gjoen no time to grieve for roses when forests are burning \ camille rankine
when hanif abdurraqib wrote “everything you were born with will provide you with infinite warmth” truly words to feel held by…
in the moments before the eruptions
of our cruelest corners pull us apart, friends,
remind me to tell you of the times I have seen
the way a good season has lingered in the
hopes of dancing along our faces one last
time, and how that has made me decide that
I must stay here, wretched as the staying
may feel. only the fool arms themself
with the tools of undoing and nothing
beyond. I want to die a little less than I did
yesterday and a little less than I did the day
before. offered the chance to make amends
for what we have endured together,
I will open the hidden vault: all heartbreak
is a descendant of the untouched
imagination. into the hollow void I’ve left
I echo the names of all who have pulled me
from the depths of my own design.
and underneath the known haunting
of invented darkness, I promise you
it isn’t all that bad. we can all mourn
until the mourning trembles out a celebration.
Hanif Abdurraqib, A Fortune for Your Disaster (Tin House Books, 2019)
[…] love is not the drug itself but is the fluorescent palm that splits the earth
in the name of its blooming. not the drug, but the object so beautiful it demands
to be stitched into something that the body can consume.
Hanif Abdurraqib, from “How Can Black People Write about Flowers at a Time Like This,” A Fortune for Your Disaster (Tin House Books, 2019)
Hanif Abdurraqib, In an Interview with Krista Tippett
Hanif Abdurraqib, In an Interview with Krista Tippett