Daugher by Nicole Blackman
“Daughter” -- BLOODSUGAR published version
by Nicole Blackman
One day I’ll give birth to a tiny baby girl
and when she’s born she’ll scream
and I’ll tell her to never stop.
I will kiss her before I lay her down at night
and will tell her a story so she knows
how it is and how it must be for her to survive.
I’ll tell her to set things on fire
and keep them burning.
I’ll teach her that fire will not consume her,
that she must use it.
I’ll tell her that people must earn the right
to use her nickname,
that forced intimacy is an ugly thing.
I’ll help her to see that she will not find God
or salvation in a dark brick building
built by dead men.
I’ll make sure she always carries an pen
so she can take down the evidence.
if she has no paper, I’ll teach her to
write everything down with her tongue,
write it on her highs.
I’ll make her keep reinventing herself and run fast.
I’ll teach her to write her manifestos
on cocktail napkins.
I’ll say she should make men lick her ambition.
I’ll make her understand that she is worth more
with her clothes on.
I’ll teach her to talk hard.
I’ll tell her that when the words come too fast
and she has no use for a pen
that she must quit her job
run out of the house in her bathrobe,
leave the door open.
I’ll teach her to follow the words.
They will try to make her stay,
comfort her, let her sleep, bathe her in a television blue glow.
I will cut her hair, tell her to light the house on fire,
kill the kittens
when nothing is there
nothing will keep her
and she is not to be kept.
I’ll say that everything she has done seen spoken
has brought her to the here this now.
This is no time for tenderness,
no time to stand, waiting for them to find her.
There are nations within her skin.
Queendoms come without keys you can carry.
I’ll teach her that she has an army inside her
that can save her life.
I’ll teach her to be whole, to be holy.
I’ll teach her how to live,
to be so much that she doesn’t even
need me anymore.
I’ll tell her to go quickly and never come back.
Things get broken fast here.
I will make her stronger than I ever was.
Turned at twenty
she’ll break into bits of star
and throw herself against the sky.
(1999 is an excellent year
to disappear)
I will not let them destroy her life
the way they destroyed mine.
I’ll tell her to never forget what they did to you
and never let them know you remember.
Never forget what they did to you
and never let them know you remember.
Never forget what they did to you
and never let them know you remember.
...........................
this is an earlier version of the poem which is just as more raw but just as powerful which is the one I find most often when I search for this online.
“Daughter”
One day I’ll give birth to a tiny baby girl and when she’s born she’ll scream and I’ll make sure she never stops.
I will kiss her before I lay her down and will tell her a story so she knows how it is and how it must be for her to survive.
I’ll tell her about the power of water, the seduction of paper, the promise of gasoline, and the hope of blood.
I’ll teach her to shave her eyebrows and mark her skin.
I’ll teach her that her body is her greatest work of art.
I’ll tell her to light things on fire and keep them burning.
I’ll teach her that the fire will not consume her, that she must take it and use it.
I’ll tell her to be tri-sexual, to try anything to sleep with, fight with, pray with anyone, just as long as she feels something.
I’ll help her do her best work when it rains.
I’ll tell her to reinvent herself every 28 days.
I’ll teach her to develop all her selves, the courageous ones, the smart ones, the dreaming ones, the fast ones.
I’ll teach her that she has an army inside her that can save her life.
I’ll tell her to say Fuck like other people say The and when people are shocked to ask them why they so fear a small quartet of letters.
I’ll make sure she always carries a pen so she can take down the evidence.
If she has no paper, I’ll teach her to write everything down on her tongue, write it on her thighs.
I’ll help her to see that she will not find God or salvation in a dark brick building built by dead men.
I’ll explain to her that it’s better to regret the things she has done than the things she hasn’t.
I’ll teach her to write her manifestos on cocktail napkins.
I’ll say she should make men lick her enterprise.
I’ll teach her to talk hard.
I’ll tell her that her skin is the most beautiful dress she will ever wear.
I’ll tell her that people must earn the right to use her nickname, that forced intimacy is an ugly thing.
I’ll make her understand that she is worth more with her clothes on.
I’ll tell her that when the words finally flow too fast and she has no use for a pen, that she must quit her job, run out of the house in her bathrobe, leaving the door open.
I’ll teach her to follow the words.
I’ll tell her to stand up and head for the door after she makes love.
When he asks her to stay she’ll say she’s got to go.
I’ll tell her that when she first bleeds when she is a woman, to go up to the roof at midnight, reach her hands up to the sky and scream.
I’ll teach her to be whole, to be holy, to be so much that she doesn’t even need me anymore. I’ll tell her to go quickly and never come back.
I will make her stronger than me.
I’ll say to her never forget what they did to you and never let them know you remember.
by Nicole Blackman
One day I’ll give birth to a tiny baby girl
and when she’s born she’ll scream
and I’ll tell her to never stop.
I will kiss her before I lay her down at night
and will tell her a story so she knows
how it is and how it must be for her to survive.
I’ll tell her to set things on fire
and keep them burning.
I’ll teach her that fire will not consume her,
that she must use it.
I’ll tell her that people must earn the right
to use her nickname,
that forced intimacy is an ugly thing.
I’ll help her to see that she will not find God
or salvation in a dark brick building
built by dead men.
I’ll make sure she always carries an pen
so she can take down the evidence.
if she has no paper, I’ll teach her to
write everything down with her tongue,
write it on her highs.
I’ll make her keep reinventing herself and run fast.
I’ll teach her to write her manifestos
on cocktail napkins.
I’ll say she should make men lick her ambition.
I’ll make her understand that she is worth more
with her clothes on.
I’ll teach her to talk hard.
I’ll tell her that when the words come too fast
and she has no use for a pen
that she must quit her job
run out of the house in her bathrobe,
leave the door open.
I’ll teach her to follow the words.
They will try to make her stay,
comfort her, let her sleep, bathe her in a television blue glow.
I will cut her hair, tell her to light the house on fire,
kill the kittens
when nothing is there
nothing will keep her
and she is not to be kept.
I’ll say that everything she has done seen spoken
has brought her to the here this now.
This is no time for tenderness,
no time to stand, waiting for them to find her.
There are nations within her skin.
Queendoms come without keys you can carry.
I’ll teach her that she has an army inside her
that can save her life.
I’ll teach her to be whole, to be holy.
I’ll teach her how to live,
to be so much that she doesn’t even
need me anymore.
I’ll tell her to go quickly and never come back.
Things get broken fast here.
I will make her stronger than I ever was.
Turned at twenty
she’ll break into bits of star
and throw herself against the sky.
(1999 is an excellent year
to disappear)
I will not let them destroy her life
the way they destroyed mine.
I’ll tell her to never forget what they did to you
and never let them know you remember.
Never forget what they did to you
and never let them know you remember.
Never forget what they did to you
and never let them know you remember.
...........................
this is an earlier version of the poem which is just as more raw but just as powerful which is the one I find most often when I search for this online.
“Daughter”
One day I’ll give birth to a tiny baby girl and when she’s born she’ll scream and I’ll make sure she never stops.
I will kiss her before I lay her down and will tell her a story so she knows how it is and how it must be for her to survive.
I’ll tell her about the power of water, the seduction of paper, the promise of gasoline, and the hope of blood.
I’ll teach her to shave her eyebrows and mark her skin.
I’ll teach her that her body is her greatest work of art.
I’ll tell her to light things on fire and keep them burning.
I’ll teach her that the fire will not consume her, that she must take it and use it.
I’ll tell her to be tri-sexual, to try anything to sleep with, fight with, pray with anyone, just as long as she feels something.
I’ll help her do her best work when it rains.
I’ll tell her to reinvent herself every 28 days.
I’ll teach her to develop all her selves, the courageous ones, the smart ones, the dreaming ones, the fast ones.
I’ll teach her that she has an army inside her that can save her life.
I’ll tell her to say Fuck like other people say The and when people are shocked to ask them why they so fear a small quartet of letters.
I’ll make sure she always carries a pen so she can take down the evidence.
If she has no paper, I’ll teach her to write everything down on her tongue, write it on her thighs.
I’ll help her to see that she will not find God or salvation in a dark brick building built by dead men.
I’ll explain to her that it’s better to regret the things she has done than the things she hasn’t.
I’ll teach her to write her manifestos on cocktail napkins.
I’ll say she should make men lick her enterprise.
I’ll teach her to talk hard.
I’ll tell her that her skin is the most beautiful dress she will ever wear.
I’ll tell her that people must earn the right to use her nickname, that forced intimacy is an ugly thing.
I’ll make her understand that she is worth more with her clothes on.
I’ll tell her that when the words finally flow too fast and she has no use for a pen, that she must quit her job, run out of the house in her bathrobe, leaving the door open.
I’ll teach her to follow the words.
I’ll tell her to stand up and head for the door after she makes love.
When he asks her to stay she’ll say she’s got to go.
I’ll tell her that when she first bleeds when she is a woman, to go up to the roof at midnight, reach her hands up to the sky and scream.
I’ll teach her to be whole, to be holy, to be so much that she doesn’t even need me anymore. I’ll tell her to go quickly and never come back.
I will make her stronger than me.
I’ll say to her never forget what they did to you and never let them know you remember.