Milk & Honey — Poetry is for everyone #4

Is the banning of books really a 21st Century problem?

Welcome to the latest edition of poetry is for everyone. Each week I intuitively send out a poem that is speaking to me that hopefully in some numinous way speaks to you too. It is my intention to keep the selection diverse and interesting and introduce you to some new writers along the way. Feel free to make suggestions or recommend your favourite poets/poems to the group in the comments.

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Like a lot of people, I discovered Rupi Kaur on the internet. On Instagram to be precise.

I was immediately captivated by the simplicity and raw honesty of her words and the delicate drawings that accompanied them — Kaur wrote, illustrated and self-published her first book Milk & Honey in 2014.

I didn’t realise until recently that she was also the internet sensation that prompted a global discourse (an understatement) in 2015 after posting pictures of herself curled up on her side, her pyjamas and bedsheets stained with (a small amount of) blood — the most normal, relatable image ever for any person who’s had a period, ever. Did you see it? I feel like most people did. Some of those people were outraged. The images which formed part of a university photography project, were forcibly removed by Instagram but later reinstated after Kaur’s accusations of misogyny went viral. This ultimately led to Kaur gaining an enormous following and the republishing of Milk & Honey and must have been how I discovered her too honestly, though I had long forgotten and disassociated her from that particular narrative.

Since then she has published three additional books: The Sun & Her Flowers (2017), Home Body (2020) and most recently Healing Through Words (2022) — a beautiful workbook with 65 guided writing prompts inspired by the themes from Milk & Honey. Her collections have sold more than 10 million copies worldwide and been translated into over 40 languages.

More recently, Milk & Honey itself has become the subject of controversy. In the last year it has become one of the most banned books in America — Kaur’s poems simultaneously explore both the deeply personal (to Kaur herself) and the universal: themes of sex, love, loss, trauma, healing, femininity and migration. And again have seemingly invited yet more outrage. Whilst part of me finds it deeply disturbing that the banning of books appears to be having a resurgence, I also trust that much like Judy Blume’s Forever for my generation in the ‘90s, or Virginia Woolf’s Mrs Dalloway, or even Gustave Flaubert’s Madame Bovary, that the banning or suppression of any works will ultimately only ever encourage more people to seek them out.

I personally find huge comfort in Rupi Kaur’s writing. I also think she’s a fantastic gateway for those that don’t have a natural affinity to poetry or feel ostracised by poetic language, say if it gets a little too heightened or flowery, or long! Her work dances on the edge of poetry and prose but always packs an emotional punch. She really writes how she speaks and for those that are a fan of spoken-word poetry (not me, sadly!), she is a prolific performer of her work, too.

I definitely prefer her later work but only because her earlier work feels as though it was written by a young person — Kaur was only 21 when Milk & Honey was first published — but if you’re old enough to get a sense of that then at some point you must have been that age too, so more fool the person who mocks the expressions of a younger self and claims they can’t relate, I say. These poems in particular have helped me to cultivate an enormous amount of compassion for my own younger self even if I don’t connect with them in the same way as her newer stuff. The same goes for anyone who has ever criticised the simplicity of her work. I would direct them towards Italian food, deep breaths, hand holding and laughter, to remind them that sometimes, less is more.

On that note… there is so much more I could say about her here (like how, a lot like ee cummings’ subversion of form, she only writes in lower case and solely punctuates with full stops to honour her Punjabi heritage) but I’d rather just get on and share something to allow it to speak for itself. Her emphasis on the female experience in particular connects to me very deeply so I’ve chosen two poems of hers that I first remember reading, that served as my own portal into her work. I really hope you enjoy. Happy Sunday!

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I am now an affiliate of Bookshop.org so if you’d like to read more from any of the featured artists on our growing poetry curation, I have put together a selection on my page <3