Sappho – Fragment 147 – Written by: Samira Abbey
Sappho’s fragment 147, ‘someone will remember us / I say / even in another time’, resonates with me as more than just a poetic reflection on legacy; it’s a subtle, powerful reminder of resilience. Queer people, who have navigated history often overlooked or erased yet unquestionably present, will find this message especially relevant. Sappho’s words transcend time. Her words remind us that, despite the challenges, our presence and stories will be recognised and honoured.
In the context of modern queer existence, this fragment serves as a beacon of hope. It reminds us that, just as Sappho’s voice survived centuries of censorship and suppression from church burnings to Victorian sanitisation. Similarly, the stories and lives of those facing oppression today will survive. This fragment shows us that queer history, regardless of the risk will keep thriving. It reminds us that the challenges we face today are not permanent. Our fight for equality, although challenging, is part of a bigger journey toward progress.
From Sappho’s perspective, the line might simply reflect her hope for her poetry to transcend time; a hope fulfilled as we celebrate her work millennia later. For me, however, it symbolises something more than the presence of queer voices throughout history. The fragment almost promises us that we will be remembered, our experiences will be recognised, and our legacy will endure in the face of growing criticism and conservative legislations. This serves as a reminder that progress can come and go, similar to oppression. The voices of today will be present tomorrow, just like Sappho’s voice is present today. In this way, her words become both a comfort and a call to action: to keep writing, speaking, and living authentically, knowing that remembrance follows resistance.
Sylvia Plath – Written by Tegan Davies
Since I was a child, I have always maintained the belief that poetry, in whatever form, is the superior channel of emotion within our language. It is a vehicle that anybody can drive, so long as they have something to say or a story to tell. There is a misconception that poetry can only be written by those who have a certain flair, that it is akin to song-writing or fiction and requires a particular skill but ultimately, I believe that to be untrue – so long as there is meaning in the words that you write, poetry is broad and it is forgiving. To me, so long as you aren’t one of those modern writers who space out a sentence into unexplainable line breaks and call it art (without naming any ‘poets’, you know what I mean), anybody can harbour the passion it takes to write poetry.
I find that poetry often articulates the emotions deep within me that, otherwise, I perhaps may never have found the words to express. Even as somebody who writes poetry, many times I have stared at a blank page, unable to conjure the mess in my head into words on a document. And that’s why I think reading poetry is equally as cathartic as writing it. Call me basic, but as somebody who has been a poet and admired them for almost her entire life, I do believe that Sylvia Plath is my one true spokesperson when I cannot articulate feelings for myself. If, by some insanely unfortunate coincidence, you have never come across her work, I urge you to pick up one of her anthologies. Her collection of poems, and her novel The Bell Jar, are a must-read for any young girl who struggles with the intricacies of her own mind.
Poetry is, just as Plath reminds me whenever I read her work, a collection of experiences expressed from the deepest parts of our imagination. Returning to that idea of needing a certain skill set or flair to write it – poetry is lyrical in the same way a song is, tells a story the same way a fiction writer can, and portrays darker truths than any non-fiction manuscript ever could. And that’s why I believe that poetry is the art form I connect to the most.
Featured image courtesy of Nick Fewings via Unsplash. License found here.