by Alice Walker
risk—
grow old.
21
Kissing
Your
Arm
I kiss
The
Mountain.
Don’t you
think
they
intend
to incinerate
the Earth
who create
a napalm
to burn
our flesh
even
under
water?
How long
we
have slept
dreaming
of getting
everywhere
some
where
faster.
In our
lifetime
no end
to
war.
What do birds
think
of
us?
Fleeting
thought
where
did
you
go?
Lost
poem.
When we die
the
ocean
of
Life
closes
over
us.
Do
not be
a
miracle
of
affliction
to
the
world.
Choose
someone
to love
who
wouldn’t even
hear
of it.
Notice
ducks.
Children
trained
to
shoot
to kill
themselves:
We
the ground
on
which
they
fall.
Wear red.
How to hope
against
the evil
engulfing
us?
All around
our rented
pole house
in Paradise
acid lime
was laid
to
silence
frogs.
How can we
rest
thinking
of
their
burning
legs?
What is
the balm
for
consciousness?
There is only
kindness
lucid, strong
in the
moment
like
sunlight
penetrating
a gloomy
glade
The offer
of empathy
or tea
or soup
or
bread
a bed.
Lack
of balance
staggers
us.
To fall
is
easy.
Even so,
falling
will not
help.
No
gadget
in all
Creation
to
distract us
forever
from
our
grief.
We have seen
Paradise
over &
over
we have
lost
it
every
time.
Is it
the same
Paradise
we
lose
so constantly
in
ourselves?
There is
no
“Other”
only
you—
at
war.
For medicine
contemplate
a
breathing
leaf:
faithfulness.
Now
we know
why
models
we are
trained
to emulate
look
like
skeletons.
22
It was not
Uranium
who chose
to be
our
enemy.
Depleted
She is
misunderstood
misused.
We are left
trailing
Her
footprints
which
last
forever.
Choose
one country
other
than
your
own
to love.
Keep a finger
on
its
pulse.
See
yourself
in every
eye
you
fear
to
look
into.
You live
there
and die
also.
Stop running.
Earth
Mother
will win
in the
end
absorb
us casually
grow
perfect
creations
from
our
mistakes.
Her
life
so long
can
start
over
over
again
without
us.
But
can I be
a flower
a weed
waving
blowing?
23
We are
protected
by
nothing
but
our
thoughts.
In
the land
where
all
is managed
the
opinion
of
the wise
arrives
by
accident.
Destroying
as it
builds
the serpent
swallows
its tail.
The tap
of
the hammer
the
whine
of
the
bomb.
Trying
to
explain
in
this
Age
of fragmentation
our
thoughts
disintegrate
on
the wind.
The poem
means—
but are they
good
shoes?
Is there
a
market
near
the
airport?
Is that
the
celebrity
the one
I love
or
the one
who died
along with all
her
dogs
two
giraffes?
Where is
Michael
when the lights
go out?
Respect
plutonium.
24
There is no end
Lying in my lover’s arms
there is a
/>
smell
of
poi
that
steadies
me.
The luscious
papaya
too sweet
for
my body
not for
its
own.
Believe in
no God
that
does not
believe
in you.
Eat coco-
nuts.
Do not
repeat
everything
you’ve
learned.
You may be called upon
to lead.
Don’t be
fooled
the
assaulted
child
is
ours
always
was.
I am not
so
easily
killed
as
you
thought:
So firmly
am I
a part
of
you.
You will
carry me
to
my resting
place
I will
leave
with
you.
Turn to the
wind
for
help.
Ask it
to drop
all radio-
active
particles
while
embracing
you.
There is
a swift
horse
whose name
is
Night.
Ride it
into
dreams.
25
We must
dream
our
way
out
of this.
Strive
to remember
it is not
normal
to
live
in
terror
of
the water
in
your
glass.
Friendship
is
antidote
to
poison.
Do not
be
like
cows
grazing
watching
the
butcher.
If we are true
to Her
The Goddess
will come
to us.
She will
seem
odd.
And
I will go
on
blessing
old
revolutionaries
who
stand
their
ground
small
countries
that
never
give
up
I will go
on
believing
that
even
if
provoked
it is
inappropriate
to
bomb
teenagers
& that
infants
are not
to
blame
for fouling
their
societies
I will
go
on
believing
that
love
is
the future
that
I deserve
Peace
the future
whose
time
has
come.
About the Author
ALICE WALKER won the Pulitzer Prize and
the American Book Award for her novel
The Color Purple, which was preceded by
The Third Life of Grange Copeland and Meridian.
Her other bestselling novels include By the Light of
My Father’s Smile, Possessing the Secret of Joy,
and The Temple of My Familiar. She is also
the author of three collections of short stories,
three collections of essays, six previous volumes of
poetry, and several children’s books. Her books
have been translated into more than two dozen
languages. Born in Eatonton, Georgia,
Walker now lives in Northern California.
ALSO BY ALICE WALKER
FICTION
The Way Forward Is with a Broken Heart
By the Light of My Father’s Smile
Possessing the Secret of Joy
The Temple of My Familiar
The Color Purple
You Can’t Keep a Good Woman Down
Meridian
In Love and Trouble: Stories of Black Women
The Third Life of Grange Copeland
NONFICTION ON
Sent by Earth: A Message from the Grandmother Spirit
Anything We Love Can Be Saved
The Same River Twice: Honoring the Difficult
Warrior Marks (with Pratibha Parmar)
Living by the Word
In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens
POEMS
Absolute Trust in the Goodness of the Earth
Her Blue Body Everything We Know
Horses Make a Landscape Look More Beautiful
Good Night, Willie Lee, I’ll See You in the Morning
Revolutionary Petunias and Other Poems
Once
COPYRIGHT © 2003 BY ALICE WALKER
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright
Conventions. Published in the United States by Random House,
an imprint of the Random House Publishing Group, a division of
Random House, Inc., New York.
RANDOM HOUSE and colophon are registered
trademarks of Random House, Inc.
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Walker, Alice,
A poem traveled down my arm: poems and drawings / by Alice Walker.
p. cm.
I. Title.
PS3573.A425P64 2003
81’.54—dc21 2003047070
Random House website address: www.atrandom.com
www.randomhouse.com
eISBN: 978-0-307-43044-1
v3.0