<html><head></head><body style="word-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; -webkit-line-break: after-white-space; "><div>The Marvelous Women</div><div><p class="MsoNormal"><br>All women speak two languages:<br>the language of men<br>and the language of silent suffering.<br><span>Some women speak a third,</span><br><span>the language of queens.</span><br><span>They are marvelous</span><br><span>and they are my friends.</span><br><br><span>My friends give me poetry.</span><br><span>If it were not for them</span><br><span>I’d be a seamstress out of work.</span><br><span>They send me their dresses</span><br><span>and I sew together poems,</span><br><span>enormous sails for ocean journeys.</span><br><br><span>My marvelous friends, these women</span><br><span>who are elegant and fix engines,</span><br><span>who teach gynecology and literacy,</span><br><span>and work in jails and sing and sculpt</span><br><span>and paint the ninety-nine names,</span><br><span>who keep each other’s secrets</span><br><span>and pass on each other’s spirits</span><br><span>like small packets of leavening,</span><br><br><span>it is from you I fashion poetry.</span><br><span>I scoop up, in handfuls, glittering</span><br><span>sequins that fall from your bodies</span><br><span>as you fall in love, marry, divorce,</span><br><span>get custody, get cats, enter</span><br><span>supreme courts of justice,</span><br><span>argue with God.</span><br><br><span>You rescuers on galloping steeds</span><br><span>of the weak and the wounded–</span><br><span>Creatures of beauty and passion,</span><br><span>powerful workers in love–</span><br><span>you are the poems.</span><br><span>I am only your stenographer.</span><br><span>I am the hungry transcriber</span><br><span>of the conjuring recipes you hoard</span><br><span>in the chests of your great-grandmothers.</span><br><br><span>My marvelous friends–the women</span><br><span>of brilliance in my life,</span><br><span>who levitate my daughters,</span><br><span>you are a coat of many colors</span><br><span>in silk tie-dye so gossamer</span><br><span>it can be crumpled in one hand.</span><br><span>You houris, you mermaids, swimmers</span><br><span>in dangerous waters, defiers of sharks–</span><br><br><span>My marvelous friends,</span><br><span>thirsty Hagars and laughing Sarahs,</span><br><span>you eloquent radio Aishas,</span><br><span>Marys drinking the secret</span><br><span>milkshakes of heaven,</span><br><span>slinky Zuleikas of desire, </span><br><span>gay Walladas, Harriets</span><br><span>parting the sea, Esthers in the palace,</span><br><span>Penelopes of patient scheming,</span><br><br><span>you are the last hope of the shrinking women.</span><br><span>You are the last hand to the fallen knights</span><br><span>You are the only epics left in the world</span><br><br><span>Come with me, come with poetry</span><br><span>Jump on this wild chariot, hurry –</span></p><div><br></div></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>- Mohja Kahf</div></body></html>