My own journey in becoming a poet began with memory – with the need to record and hold on to what was being lost. One of my earliest poems, ‘Give and Take,’ was about my Aunt Sugar, how I was losing her to her memory loss.
The man who never makes a mistake always takes orders from one who does. No man or woman who tries to pursue an ideal in his or her own way is without enemies.
Let not England forget her precedence of teaching nations how to live.
Elaine Equi has been publishing her observant, often playful poetry for some 30 years, extending and deepening the range of her intrinsically wry voice.
I had written here and there about my mother in my poems. There are poems for her in my first and second books.
Feminists don’t honor successful women. You never hear them talking about Margaret Thatcher. Take Condoleezza Rice. She’s a remarkable, successful woman. You don’t hear the feminists talk about her or Carly Fiorina or Jeanne Kirkpatrick.
On the one hand, she is cut off from the protection awarded to her sisters abroad; on the other, she has no such power to defend her interests at the polls, as is the heritage of her brothers at home.
A good-humored wife who appreciates most, if not all, of my humor – her price is far above rubies, as the book of Proverbs doesn’t quite say.
A wife should no more take her husband’s name than he should hers. My name is my identity and must not be lost.
One of my main wishes in wanting to write about my mother was to explore the impact of her death on my life, explore our relationship, think about the different versions of myself that I was with and without her. I also had the really strong wish to bring her to life for my children, who were born after she was gone.