Let’s just jump right in and start talking about Rupi Kaur. Kaur is the author of two books called Milk and Honey and The Sun and Her Flowers. I remember seeing a picture of a page from milk and honey of Tumblr and being like “I need this book in my life right now.” I went to the book store and it wasn’t there, the book was so unknown that it was sold by a small company which I bought it from and had it shipped to me. I got it soon in the mail and read it one sitting. I posted pictures of my favorite poems on to Snapchat and had so many people asked what it was from or screenshot it. That book was broken in four sections: The Hurting, The Loving, The Breaking, The Healing. The emotions of each section fit the name of it. I have never read a book more than once as hate knowing what is going to happen. I have read Milk and Honey 6 times and MANY times just separate sections because every time a different poem stands out and connects with how I feel. The sun and her flowers is just as beautiful as the first book. This book is as well broken up in to sections that represent the feeling of the poems in them. This book I have had for a shorter time, so I only have read it twice now.
Rupi Kaur writes about feelings that are real and raw and not talked about. She speaks about the true pain of depression and being insecure. She speaks about her ethnicity as a Indian girl. She talks of harsh subjects normally avoided as in rape, sex, lust, and the real female body. In the end of all of her books she gives you this boost in confidence and inspiration that you feel like you can take on the world. Nothing is the world, or no one can stop you. You are perfect with all your scars and imperfections and should let your body be its natural beautiful self.
Poetry means the world to me and I use it as an escape. I have gone through some really good and really bad things. I don’t want to keep those feelings inside, so I write them. I guess the best way to end a post about poetry is with a poem. This poem is about a feeling I focus on when the nights are as cold and windy as tonight.
I hate being hot when I’m anxious,
but I love having your arms wrapped around me.
With you I feel safe.
With anxiety I feel suffocated,
almost like I’m burning in the pits of hell.
You don’t feel warm but more like love.
Like the feeling of you loving me
moves from your heart
to your finger tips
traces my skin
and makes me feel warm.