I know it was the dedication on the front-cover of her book "The Motorcycle Betrayal Poems" (see photo - click on it to enlarge to read) that attracted my attention to Diane Wakoski (1937- ) when I was in my 20s. It was just so provocative and real. The poems inside had the same kind of tone: strongly worded, fierce, "....the voice of a woman who is not afraid of depths..." (Anais Nin). Frankly, they were a bit scary (back then), as I was yet unaccustomed to the range of voices, particularly female, that existed in poetry. It was also the 1970s and the cultural impact of feminism, etc. was barely out of the boiling stage. She was/is also someone with whom the critics had a hard time. Some thought her poems were too focused on the self, while others appreciated her first-person voice and language. I haven't kept up with her writing after that era, but I come back to that volume (and one other) whenever I want to be jolted. The poem here is one of the shorter ones and a little "softer".
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To Celebrate My Body
where
you had only
to touch me
other had
to present a history
a bibliography,
a justification
but
no question
remains,
that a gift
easily given
lightly received
is wasted
no one can
touch me
the way
you can/ I should say
did
but
no question
remains
your touch
was not lightly
taken
and
my body
has spent
a lot of years
awakening
too long
in fact
to stop
the process
your touch
is
somewhere
across the ocean. My imagination
has never
been poor; but
cannot extend
to a life
where touching
comes only
in a letter
Celebrate
the word.
we
are both
poets;
taking the world
ultimately
seriously
but the word
can only
give life
if it acknowledges
the lips
the mouth that made it
the body
that pumped the
sounding air
where
you had only
to touch me
others had
to present a history
a bibliography,
a justification
the touch
comes first
remains
is the last thing you
remember
after you
turn
out
the light
at night.
Diane Wakoski - American
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