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Our Dead Behind Us: Poems
In this collection, Audre Lorde gives us poems that explore "differences as creative tensions, and the melding of past strength / pain with future hope / fear; the present being the vital catalyst, the motivating force―activism." As Marilyn Hacker has written, "Black, lesbian, mother, cancer survivor, urban none of Lorde's selves has ever silenced the others; the counterpoint among them is often the material of her strongest poems."
75 pages, Hardcover
First published June 1, 1986
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About the author
Audre Lorde
112 books5,471 followersAudre Lorde was a revolutionary Black feminist. Lorde's poetry was published very regularly during the 1960s — in Langston Hughes' 1962 New Negro Poets, USA; in several foreign anthologies; and in black literary magazines. During this time, she was politically active in civil rights, anti-war, and feminist movements. Her first volume of poetry, The First Cities (1968), was published by the Poet's Press and edited by Diane di Prima, a former classmate and friend from Hunter College High School. Dudley Randall, a poet and critic, asserted in his review of the book that Lorde "does not wave a black flag, but her blackness is there, implicit, in the bone."
Her second volume, Cables to Rage (1970), which was mainly written during her tenure at Tougaloo College in Mississippi, addressed themes of love, betrayal, childbirth and the complexities of raising children. It is particularly noteworthy for the poem "Martha", in which Lorde poetically confirms her homosexuality: "[W]e shall love each other here if ever at all." Later books continued her political aims in lesbian and gay rights, and feminism. In 1980, together with Barbara Smith and Cherríe Moraga, she co-founded Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press, the first U.S. publisher for women of colour. Lorde was State Poet of New York from 1991 to 1992.
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Her second volume, Cables to Rage (1970), which was mainly written during her tenure at Tougaloo College in Mississippi, addressed themes of love, betrayal, childbirth and the complexities of raising children. It is particularly noteworthy for the poem "Martha", in which Lorde poetically confirms her homosexuality: "[W]e shall love each other here if ever at all." Later books continued her political aims in lesbian and gay rights, and feminism. In 1980, together with Barbara Smith and Cherríe Moraga, she co-founded Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press, the first U.S. publisher for women of colour. Lorde was State Poet of New York from 1991 to 1992.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 44 reviews
February 1, 2019
This is my introduction to Audre Lorde's writing, and, though this collection was a tad overly political in nature for me, I still found my way to the juicy parts of her poetry.
On writing:
I cannot recall the words of my first poem
but I remember a promise
I made my pen
never to leave it
lying
in somebody else's blood.
On women:
Some women wait for something
to change
and nothing
does change
so they change
themselves.
On the differences of opinions:
Tanned boys I do not know
on their first proud harvest
wave from their father's tractor
one smiles as we drive past
the other hollers
nigger
into cropped and fragrant air.
On love:
I dream
I am precious rock
touching the edge of you
that needs
the moon's loving.
On living:
What do we want from each other
after we have told our stories
do we want
to be healed
do we want
mossy quiet stealing over our scars
do we want
the powerful unfrightening sister
who will make the pain go away
mother's voice in the hallway
you've done it right
the first time, darling,
you will never need
to do it again.
On death:
Part of our secret lay hidden
in Monday's pocket for comfort:
we always go back
to our graves.
On writing:
I cannot recall the words of my first poem
but I remember a promise
I made my pen
never to leave it
lying
in somebody else's blood.
On women:
Some women wait for something
to change
and nothing
does change
so they change
themselves.
On the differences of opinions:
Tanned boys I do not know
on their first proud harvest
wave from their father's tractor
one smiles as we drive past
the other hollers
nigger
into cropped and fragrant air.
On love:
I dream
I am precious rock
touching the edge of you
that needs
the moon's loving.
On living:
What do we want from each other
after we have told our stories
do we want
to be healed
do we want
mossy quiet stealing over our scars
do we want
the powerful unfrightening sister
who will make the pain go away
mother's voice in the hallway
you've done it right
the first time, darling,
you will never need
to do it again.
On death:
Part of our secret lay hidden
in Monday's pocket for comfort:
we always go back
to our graves.
November 18, 2020
Til tider overvejer jeg om der kursus i hvordan man læser digte
Andre gange læser jeg digte uden problemer
Selvom det var svært digte samling at kommer igennem, på grund af sproget, at det en lærerig og spændende oplevelser!
🖤✊
Andre gange læser jeg digte uden problemer
Selvom det var svært digte samling at kommer igennem, på grund af sproget, at det en lærerig og spændende oplevelser!
🖤✊
April 26, 2021
“Black people fishing the causeway
full-skirted bare brown to the bellyband
atilt on the railing near a concrete road
where a crawler-transporter will move
the space shuttle from hangar to gantry.
Renting a biplane to stalk the full moon in Aquarius
as she rose under Venus between propellers Country Western surf
feasting on frozen black beans Cubano from Grand Union
in the mangrove swamp elbows of cypress scrub oak
Moon moon moon on the syncopated road
rimey with bullfrogs walking beaches fragrant and raunchy
fire-damp sand between my toes.
Huge arrogant cockroaches with white people’s manners
and their palmetto bug cousins
aggressive ridged slowness
the obstinacy of living fossils.
Sweet ugly-fruit avocados tomatoes
and melon in the mango slot
hibiscus spread like a rainbow of lovers
arced stamens waving
but even the jacaranda only last a day.
Crescent moon walking my sheets at midnight
lonely in the palmetto thicket counting
persistent Canaveral lizards launch themselves
through my air conditioner
chasing equally determined fleas.
In Gainesville the last time there was only one
sister present who said “I’m gonna remember your name
and the next time you come there’ll be
quite a few more of us, hear?”
and there certainly was a warm pool
of dark women’s faces
in the sea of listening.
The first thing I did when I got home
after kissing my honey
was to wash my hair with small flowers
and begin a five-day fast.”
Thoughts: The language in this collection is so lush; my red pen bracketed too many lines to count. The above is titled Florida, and it’s officially my second favorite poem about my home state (Elizabeth Bishop’s remains the tops, probably forever).
full-skirted bare brown to the bellyband
atilt on the railing near a concrete road
where a crawler-transporter will move
the space shuttle from hangar to gantry.
Renting a biplane to stalk the full moon in Aquarius
as she rose under Venus between propellers Country Western surf
feasting on frozen black beans Cubano from Grand Union
in the mangrove swamp elbows of cypress scrub oak
Moon moon moon on the syncopated road
rimey with bullfrogs walking beaches fragrant and raunchy
fire-damp sand between my toes.
Huge arrogant cockroaches with white people’s manners
and their palmetto bug cousins
aggressive ridged slowness
the obstinacy of living fossils.
Sweet ugly-fruit avocados tomatoes
and melon in the mango slot
hibiscus spread like a rainbow of lovers
arced stamens waving
but even the jacaranda only last a day.
Crescent moon walking my sheets at midnight
lonely in the palmetto thicket counting
persistent Canaveral lizards launch themselves
through my air conditioner
chasing equally determined fleas.
In Gainesville the last time there was only one
sister present who said “I’m gonna remember your name
and the next time you come there’ll be
quite a few more of us, hear?”
and there certainly was a warm pool
of dark women’s faces
in the sea of listening.
The first thing I did when I got home
after kissing my honey
was to wash my hair with small flowers
and begin a five-day fast.”
Thoughts: The language in this collection is so lush; my red pen bracketed too many lines to count. The above is titled Florida, and it’s officially my second favorite poem about my home state (Elizabeth Bishop’s remains the tops, probably forever).
June 22, 2024
from To the Poet Who Happens to be Black and the Black Poet Who Happens to Be a Woman
I cannot recall the words of my first poem
but I remember a promise
I made my pen
never to leave it
lying
in somebody else's blood.
from Outlines
When we first met
I had never been
for a walk in the woods.
from There Are No Honest Poems About Dead Women
What do we want from each other
after we have told our stories
do we want
to be healed do we want
mossy quiet stealing over our scars
do we want
the powerful unfrightening sister
who will make the pain go away
Ethiopia
Seven years without milk
means everyone dances for joy
on your birthday
but when you clap your hands
break at the wrist
and even grandmother's ghee
cannot mend
the delicate embroideries
of bone.
from Call
I am a Black woman stripped down
and praying
my whole life has been an altar
worth its ending
and I say Aido Hwedo is coming.
I cannot recall the words of my first poem
but I remember a promise
I made my pen
never to leave it
lying
in somebody else's blood.
from Outlines
When we first met
I had never been
for a walk in the woods.
from There Are No Honest Poems About Dead Women
What do we want from each other
after we have told our stories
do we want
to be healed do we want
mossy quiet stealing over our scars
do we want
the powerful unfrightening sister
who will make the pain go away
Ethiopia
Seven years without milk
means everyone dances for joy
on your birthday
but when you clap your hands
break at the wrist
and even grandmother's ghee
cannot mend
the delicate embroideries
of bone.
from Call
I am a Black woman stripped down
and praying
my whole life has been an altar
worth its ending
and I say Aido Hwedo is coming.
June 30, 2025
Audre Lorde’s voice is one of the most powerful I have ever encountered. Her words shake my bones and tickle my soul.
Some of my favourite lines:
- I cannot recall the words of my first poem / but I remember a promise / I made my pen / never to leave it / lying / in somebody else’s blood.
- Guilt wove through quarrels like barbed wire
- What we share illuminates what we do not / the rest is a burden of history / we challenge / bearing each bitter piece to the light / we hone ourselves upon each other‘s courage
- Some women wait for themselves around the next corner and call the empty spot piece, but the opposite of living is only not living in the stars do not care. Some women wait for something to change and nothing does change so they change themselves.
Some of my favourite lines:
- I cannot recall the words of my first poem / but I remember a promise / I made my pen / never to leave it / lying / in somebody else’s blood.
- Guilt wove through quarrels like barbed wire
- What we share illuminates what we do not / the rest is a burden of history / we challenge / bearing each bitter piece to the light / we hone ourselves upon each other‘s courage
- Some women wait for themselves around the next corner and call the empty spot piece, but the opposite of living is only not living in the stars do not care. Some women wait for something to change and nothing does change so they change themselves.
September 10, 2020
In case you missed it, the world's at war. And as chroniclers of these conflicts go, you can't get much better than Audre Lorde. This later collection is one powerful poem after another, revealing her mastery at crafting unforgettable lines and images whether she's addressing womanhood ("Stations"), South African politics ("Holographs") or a fertility goddess ("Call"). As Lorde herself asks,"...so where is true history written / except in poems" and who are we to doubt her. Her book is a testament to that fact.
November 5, 2022
"I am a bleak heroism of words that refuse to be buried alive with the liars"
"in the dream she is not allowed to kiss her own mother the agent of control is a white pencil that writes alone"
Are you kidding????? Too good.
Some pretty heavy themes, had to take a few moments in between, but wow, her writing is so special. I can't wait to read the rest of her work.
3.5 stars :)
"in the dream she is not allowed to kiss her own mother the agent of control is a white pencil that writes alone"
Are you kidding????? Too good.
Some pretty heavy themes, had to take a few moments in between, but wow, her writing is so special. I can't wait to read the rest of her work.
3.5 stars :)
January 28, 2023
Min favoritpoet, hands down.
“Jag mins inte orden i min första dikt
Men jag minns löftet
Jag gav min penna
Att aldrig låta den
Ligga
I någon annans blod”
Audre Lorde - black, lesbian, mother, warrior, poet
“Jag mins inte orden i min första dikt
Men jag minns löftet
Jag gav min penna
Att aldrig låta den
Ligga
I någon annans blod”
Audre Lorde - black, lesbian, mother, warrior, poet
April 4, 2018
Stunning.
Read
March 15, 2020so where is true history written
except in the poems?
except in the poems?
June 12, 2023
damn, Audre...
July 26, 2023
bare <3333333 til de her vilde digte
March 20, 2022
Poesia forte, potente, de resistência e existência. Negra, feminina, lésbica, intersseccional, vibrante.
February 4, 2019
Lorde is a lauded poet published by a major house, so I assume her quality. I must have a blind spot when it comes to her work. I did not like a single poem in this collection. I disliked different poems for one of three reasons.
The first are poems I do not understand. After multiple readings, I do not believe the author gives us enough information for these poems to make sense. Perhaps some words are coded for those in the know?
She has a way of treating the mundane as if it is momentous. Perhaps it is, but it was not often clear why.
Then there are the poems I quite liked until the last few lines, at which point Lorde takes it in another direction that seems unwarranted by all that came before. I presume this new direction is really the point, but in no instance did it seem better to me.
I hope that you can enjoy Lorde's work, for I cannot.
The first are poems I do not understand. After multiple readings, I do not believe the author gives us enough information for these poems to make sense. Perhaps some words are coded for those in the know?
She has a way of treating the mundane as if it is momentous. Perhaps it is, but it was not often clear why.
Then there are the poems I quite liked until the last few lines, at which point Lorde takes it in another direction that seems unwarranted by all that came before. I presume this new direction is really the point, but in no instance did it seem better to me.
I hope that you can enjoy Lorde's work, for I cannot.
October 9, 2015
Powerful stuff.
And such a broad geography/timeline of women it covers. You know, since she was a Black, female, lesbian poet who faced cancer etc etc and had such eyes on the world:
"...
Some women wait for themselves
Around the next corner
And call the empty spot peace
But the opposite of living
Is only not living
And the stars do not care.
Some women wait for something
To change and nothing
Does change
So they change
Themselves. "
And such a broad geography/timeline of women it covers. You know, since she was a Black, female, lesbian poet who faced cancer etc etc and had such eyes on the world:
"...
Some women wait for themselves
Around the next corner
And call the empty spot peace
But the opposite of living
Is only not living
And the stars do not care.
Some women wait for something
To change and nothing
Does change
So they change
Themselves. "
April 23, 2020
This collection feels similar to how the lungs, after exhaling the breath into that place of discomfort, to then inhale deeply.
Many of the poems address the memories and intersections of blackness, childhood, the future, and the present. Some are whimsical, some heartbearing, some throwing you into the realities of identity.
Many of the poems address the memories and intersections of blackness, childhood, the future, and the present. Some are whimsical, some heartbearing, some throwing you into the realities of identity.
July 20, 2016
Tough to read if you plan on just casually perusing poetry. Her poems are painful, but in a wonderfully cathartic way.
November 11, 2025
I want to start by saying that my rating for the book has much more to do with my experience reading it than with the book itself. I always thought that reading a book in another language boiled down to a matter of understanding the words or not, but reading this book made me understand the true face of language as an experience, a feeling. Our Dead Behind Us is a collection of abstract poems (even though many deal with concrete and specific subjects) by the author Audre Lorde that has not yet been translated into Portuguese (my mother language). None of these things seemed like a problem for me: I am fluent in English (and have read many poems in that language) and I like abstract poetry (which I had only read in Portuguese). So it was very confusing for me when, upon starting to read the poems, I realized that the problem wasn't that I didn't understand the words, but that I couldn't connect with the text. It's difficult to explain because it's something akin to feelings—sometimes I had to look up words I didn't know or the context in which the poem was written (since Audre Lorde's poems are political), but even after doing that (or in cases where I didn't need to look it up), I still couldn't feel the poem, connect with it. It was difficult for me to make connections and appropriate the poems (because when we read something, we take it for ourselves), as if it were a seed planted in the wrong soil. For me, the reason for this is language. Even though I'm fluent in English, it's very different to know a language and grow up surrounded by it, living through it. Language, as experience, is a bank of meanings and symbols, which are often felt more than thought. And that's why, I concluded, it was so difficult for me to read these poems. Of course, Audre Lorde's poems are great, and she is a very important writer, thinker, and activist, but our evaluation of a book is inseparable from our experience of reading it, hence the 3 stars.
Still, here's an idea for anyone reading this: reading an abstract poem in a language that isn't your mother tongue was a very frustrating experience for me, but at the same time it made me perceive and feel new things, and I think it would be interesting for anyone.
Still, here's an idea for anyone reading this: reading an abstract poem in a language that isn't your mother tongue was a very frustrating experience for me, but at the same time it made me perceive and feel new things, and I think it would be interesting for anyone.
August 7, 2022
A powerful volume.
This was is favorite piece from the collection:
Stations
Some women love
to wait
for life for a ring
in the June light for a touch
of the sun to heal them for another
woman's voice to make them whole
to untie their hands
put words in their mouths
form to their passages
sound
to their screams for some other sleeper
to remember their future
their past.
Some women wait tor their right
train
in the wrong station
in the alleys of morning
for the noon to holler
the night come down.
Some women wait for love
to rise up
the child of their promise
to gather from earth
what they do not plant
to claim pain for labor
to become
the tip of an arrow to aim
at the heart of now
but it never stays.
Some women wait for visions
that do not return
where they were not welcome
naked
for invitations to places
they always wanted
to visit
to be repeated.
Some women wait for themselves
around the next corner
and call the empty spot peace
but the opposite of living
is only not living
and the stars do not care.
Some women wait for something
to change
and nothing
does change
so they change
themselves.
This was is favorite piece from the collection:
Stations
Some women love
to wait
for life for a ring
in the June light for a touch
of the sun to heal them for another
woman's voice to make them whole
to untie their hands
put words in their mouths
form to their passages
sound
to their screams for some other sleeper
to remember their future
their past.
Some women wait tor their right
train
in the wrong station
in the alleys of morning
for the noon to holler
the night come down.
Some women wait for love
to rise up
the child of their promise
to gather from earth
what they do not plant
to claim pain for labor
to become
the tip of an arrow to aim
at the heart of now
but it never stays.
Some women wait for visions
that do not return
where they were not welcome
naked
for invitations to places
they always wanted
to visit
to be repeated.
Some women wait for themselves
around the next corner
and call the empty spot peace
but the opposite of living
is only not living
and the stars do not care.
Some women wait for something
to change
and nothing
does change
so they change
themselves.
September 13, 2017
Yet another 5 stars for an Audre Lorde poetry collection! She's breaking all kind of records for me here, but I should no longer be surprised.
The previous few collections have felt raw and powerful, and this one feels the same, but in a different way--maybe cozy in its language somehow, and, as another reviewer mentions, Lorde really focuses on the little things in life here--small moments that, by themselves are not much, but in Lorde's hands they become part of a bigger story, and it's really beautiful what she does with words.
Anyway. I feel like as I move through her work I'm losing the ability to describe each collection in new ways, but that Audre Lorde never would have.
The previous few collections have felt raw and powerful, and this one feels the same, but in a different way--maybe cozy in its language somehow, and, as another reviewer mentions, Lorde really focuses on the little things in life here--small moments that, by themselves are not much, but in Lorde's hands they become part of a bigger story, and it's really beautiful what she does with words.
Anyway. I feel like as I move through her work I'm losing the ability to describe each collection in new ways, but that Audre Lorde never would have.
May 17, 2020
Well, I finally finished. I can honestly say that I am not that big of an Audre Lorde. I don't know if I picked the wrong book to start reading her works or what but I had a hard time grasping the meaning of several of her poems. I had to do some research or should I say a lot of research to get the meaning behind the poems. Just not my kind of poetry. I don't know if this will be the only works that I read from her but this is not my cup of tea. Reading about Lorde I found out she is a fighter and she stood for what she believed in and went to great levels to make a stance for what she felt strongly about and for that I appreciate her as a strong individual.
October 2, 2021
There were some poems in this collection that I comprehended very little of, and this collection does seem to draw on a lot of contemporary events and news that has faded from public memory, but I adore Lorde’s ability to tell a complex story in poetry. There are still many poems in this set that spoke to me and exemplify Lorde’s poetic skill as she beats all of herself to us as the readers.
Read
October 12, 2020- "Some women wait for something to change and nothing does change so they change themselves"(15)
- "I am bleak heroism of words that refuse to be buried alive with the liars"(53)
- "I may be a weed in the garden of women I have loved"(74)
- "I am bleak heroism of words that refuse to be buried alive with the liars"(53)
- "I may be a weed in the garden of women I have loved"(74)
January 14, 2022
I don't want to give Our Dead Behind Us less than three stars, but I didn't understand most of the poems in this book. Since I didn't understand, I'm going to defer from casting any judgments about the quality of this work.
January 22, 2022
Skønne digte.
Jeg savner flere noter på referencer, og efterordene var noget jeg hurtigt opgav.
Nogle af mine yndlingsdigte:
- nr. 1, 6 21, 26, 42
- 1, 6, 21, 26, 42
○ 33, 35, 38, 39, 41,
- 20, 22, 25,
- 28, 29, 32,
Jeg savner flere noter på referencer, og efterordene var noget jeg hurtigt opgav.
Nogle af mine yndlingsdigte:
- nr. 1, 6 21, 26, 42
- 1, 6, 21, 26, 42
○ 33, 35, 38, 39, 41,
- 20, 22, 25,
- 28, 29, 32,
Read
July 24, 2023I am very interested in reading more by Audre Lourde now but think I will seek out prose next since I think that a lot of this went over my head! I feel like it would be very rewarding to study more in depth.
April 15, 2025
Lorde is an incredibly captivating poet, and her work never fails to impress me. From her form to her syntax to her meaning: this book is gorgeous. A favorite line of mine: "Some women wait for something / to change and nothing / does change," ("Stations"). I take her at her word.
January 7, 2019
Gorgeous
July 22, 2019
“A blade in the bed of a child will slice up nightmare into simpler hungers”
Read
February 1, 2020811.54 L867o 1994
Displaying 1 - 30 of 44 reviews