For my mother, my cousins, my teacher Stephanie and all the other women who taught me I could. To the protagonists of these poems, who even when dead still gave me poetry. Everything of mine is yours.
Acknowledgments
My whole life I’ve been running around in circles. When I wasn’t running, I was writing. These writings are the only thing in this world that belongs to me.
For the woman, the immigrant, the daughter, the hedonist. This is how they came together. I wasn’t going to publish; I didn’t want strangers holding me in their lap. I did not want to trust them with all of this intimacy. Yet, here I am, swallowing my pride like I often do.
And, finally, my warmest gratitude to Josianne Coutinho, Zahira Zaandam, Maria Silva, Michelle Hooyboer and the loyal fans for their patience, love and never ending support — this poetic volume is for you to keep.
Foreword
For all those times someone asked me “Please help me understand Yakari” and I never found the right words, or was too embarrassed to admit doubt, and let the battered and bruised parts show. For the soft side too, the tangible sadness, the overwhelming sensitivity and I could go on. If they were to ask me again, I would hand them this book and say: “Here read this, it’s an open letter to the girl you once were.”
I met Yakari Gabriel in Aruba about four years ago in a small Cuban Restaurant where we held a monthly poetry night for the Poets’ Society, and she shook everyone to their core when she spoke. Even though as far as I recall, it was the first time I had ever laid eyes on her it felt like I have known her much longer as if my heart recognized her voice from some past story I have lived.
She’s pure power, presence, precision, and feelings. Not just because she knows exactly how to pull each heartstring with her clever play on words and her majestic metaphors, but because she means it all, and it resonates true in each sentence.
Yakari’s raw and complex storytelling grabs you by the face and makes you face the mirror; it keeps you there longer because, under her spell, you find the courage you never had before to look. She plays her four languages like secret trump cards, emerging from under her sleeve, to season and sprinkle sazon over poetry. She embodies the new Caribbean voice, with her immigrant background; she proudly wears on her sleeve.
Yakari is the hero in her own story, the curly-haired wonder who will hand you back your internal personal glory with each carefully crafted rhyme. Like a gatekeeper to your emotions, she chases you with her narrative, taps on the shoulder, just as you are ready to walk away and says: “Hey is this yours?” And you take it from Yakari and thank her because you couldn’t have said it better, and consequently, you will never really forget her again.
Maria Silva
Poems and
Thoughts
14.09.2017 I didn’t celebrate my 24th. It was gloomy, gray and cold outside. I was in my room busy beating myself up over failing school subjects. I thought there was nothing to celebrate. My friend brought me an apple pie. She took this picture. I shared it on social media with a cocky caption. Because; you know, some people are good at being broken and are even better at hiding it.
A Thought
Some women
Need to disappear
In order to heal
So let them go.
After You
After you, I tried
I can promise you I did
In every set of brown eyes
That I found under every rock
Behind every shadow.
After you, I stumbled everywhere
I kissed every set of lips
That were forbidden during you
And even before you
I slept with one, with two
Trying to feel beautiful one more time.
But no body, ever felt like yours
And nothing as intimate as having
You on the corner of my bed
Watching me from the corner of your eyes.
I lied to myself a million times
But after you, I didn’t love again.
Belief System
At the end of the day
My intuition
Is my God
It is my faith
When confusion
Comes and shakes me
It remains strong
Settled
In the middle
Of the chest
The only one
I am sure I can trust.
Body
I never thought
Your body
Would be
The cure for
My wanderlust.
Brilliance
The teacher will know you are brilliant before anyone else
She won’t say it to your face but you will
Hear her comment on it from across the hallway
The boy you think loves you might stay
But only if he decides he can deal with all your glory
Your mother will slap you across the face too many
Times throughout your lifetime
She will hate; the power inside your voice
But you will cope, you’ll be okay
Life will teach you early on
That carrying too many strengths
Comes with a high price to pray.