In Bodymap, Lambda Award winning writer Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha sings a queer disabled femme of colour love song filled with hard femme poetics and disability justice. The first book of the author to examine disability from a queer femme of color lens, Bodymap contains work created and performed with Sins Invalid. Bodymap maps hard and vulnerable terrains of queer desire, survivorhood, transformative love, sick and disabled queer genius and all the homes we claim and deserve.
"These poems are a gift for your love for self, your love itself and everyone you love. It is rare that a poet priestess offers words that allow us to emerge reborn with dirt, glitter and tenderness... Revere it. Revel in it. Read it again and again!" —Alexis Pauline Gumbs
"Bodymap uses the alchemy of the voice on the page to transform words into an ache in the pit of me. I want what these poems demand: to be free to love & die, to be resurrected in time, & to be restored by desire. Piepzna-Samarasinha has located where this body houses the smirk learned from the sidewalk, the reason to do the difficult, and the blessings for the best worst thing." —Meg Day, author of Last Psalm at Sea Level
"Sharp, yet remarkably compassionate, Piepzna-Samarasinha knows that the poem is no place for tidy inquiry and easy answers. She offers her own tenacious guts and veins on each and every page. Only someone who understands rage and reconciliation and blood and bone can write like this." —Amber Dawn, author of How Poetry Saved My Life: A Hustler’s Memoir and Sub Rosa
Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha is a Toronto and Oakland-based poet, writer, educator and social activist. Her writing and performance art focuses on documenting the stories of queer and trans people of color, abuse survivors, mixed-race people and diasporic South Asians and Sri Lankans.
I don’t read a lot of poetry, but it’s collections like this that make me realize I should correct that. Bodymap deals with race, sexuality, class, and disability, always handling with these topics as intersecting aspects of everyday life, not as abstract theories. Piepzna-Samarasinha plays with tone and form throughout, but it says grounded and accessible. I spent most of Bodymap impatient to be rereading it, because I know that I’m going to get more out of it every time. I read this as an ebook, but I’ll be buying a physical copy and probably at least one more copy to give away. This is the sort of poetry that punches you in the gut, which is exactly the best kind. — Danika Ellis
If you’ve never read anything by Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha, you probably have no idea how much of a real treat you’re in for when you pick her latest poetry collection, Bodymap. It’s her strongest set of poetry yet. Lyrically these are a tight set of poems, filled with gorgeous, evocative images. They’re visceral, tough but soft, just like the hard femmes some of the poems are about, as well as Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha herself. In fact, the poem “my city is a hard femme” was definitely one of my favourites:
When I left Worcester, I took the smirk I learned from the side
walk with me,
the girl gang of wild weed trees busting through every
vacant lot like a bank robbery
kicking down the door with the grin of getting everything for free.
I’m as hard-assed as every pretty broken thing in town,
every donut shop that’ll tell you off in a heartbeat,
every dress with just one fucked-up thing
dug out of the Auburn TJ Maxxx quadruple clearance rack.
My city is a lovely tough girl
asking you what the fuck you’re looking at,
all fitted up in skintight dirty redbrick & vinyl siding
Poetry about being a queer disabled femme of color. Raw, emotional, heart-breaking, thought-provoking, beautiful. I related to some of it, being queer and disabled myself. I am not femme (though I am AFAB) or a poc. What I couldn't relate to still moved me to tears. I don't have words for how amazing this book of poetry is. Poetry for me seems to be either hit or miss and this was one hell of a hit!
I find it easiest to review books which I liked but had some issues with, because then I can discuss those issues at length. Truly awful and genuinely wonderful books can sometimes take a backseat, which then results in me not posting about some of my favorite books.
Poetry isn't usually my go to when it comes to reading but something about this book of poetry, the way the book seller at Elliot Bay Book Company was saying wonderful things about the author's writing talents and the fact that it's not easy to find poetry written from a Brown, Queer disabled person's point of view is what sold me on reading it.
I can't wait to read more poetry that's been written by Leah and hopefully by reading this book it will lead me to find other books of poetry written by Queer POC.
damn, this book. this book! first poems i've read in a long time that stopped me dead, feeling a truth reverberate through my sternum (which ms. piepzna-samarsinha describes, so lovingly, as the exact location of her home). this book made me want to run to the copy shop and copy poems and mail them to friends who need to hear these words but don't have $20 to purchase a book right now, who can't wait six months or a year for it to show up in their library because they need to hear it now. they needed to hear it a year ago, ten years ago, and this book is finally here. i want make copies of some of these poems & burn them so my beloved dead can read them. my god. this book. I think it can save lives. I fully believe that it has the power to save lives--not just in the physical sense but the emotional, the spiritual. the poems are about survival as a queer brown crip femme, about trauma, about hot sex. about the ways that your biological fam can let you down and the ways that your chosen fam can abandon you too. about pain and growth and cycles. you probably need this book--either as a roadmap to your own survival or to better understand the lives of those you love. seriously. do what you have to do to get your hands on it (but don't steal from independent bookstores plz!). read. this. book.
This was a new kind of poetry for me as my exposure prior to this was primarily the voice of a white male and stemming from American & British Classic Literature. I very much enjoyed it! It's likely hard to find a form of poetry I won't love. Lean has a way with words that cuts deep to the soul. The way she writes is almost metaphorical of her own self-described character and it oozes the unpredictable. She extends the bounds of intimacy, erotically and soulfully. I look forward to reading other works by her. I was challenged many times to recognize my own privilege as an able-bodied, white person and it seems to me Leah knows she's doing this in her poetry, it's a part of the point/muse/style.
Some of my most favorite poems and lines: - bodymap, "I can already feel where we will make each other's bodies new" - a million dollars - mulberries - everyone thinks you're so lazy. don't let them - 2. Melanin night sky full of stars, "Your cosmos is still the most beautiful one I have ever swim in." - enough - "because your youth not killing themselves and growing up to be happy queers who make art is your PhD and your MacArthur Genius"
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
could read 100000 poems about canceling dates & messy trauma work & falling in (& out of) love despite despite despite & it wouldn’t be enough !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! always grateful for leah
Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha's writing gave words and made tangible my experiences as a queer person of color who has grown up disabled and in chronic pain. I revisit this book when I feel alone and isolated and I have shared many of their poems with people I care about
I want you to love me after the lipstick wears off
white bois with eager buts and nonprofit movement jobs you wanted are just like whole foods take out: when you are too tired you can pay too much for a tasteless version of your culture that promises it won’t kill you. afterwards, a greasy crunched compostable box and debit charge so much more expensive than you budgeted for.
This border is rotten meat, a hallucination, a wavering line a stupid idea. Can’t we blink and it'll be gone?
you know your words are like every indie rapper's third album. it’s weird at the not really top.
and then go explode the whole known world which is like explore but with just one letter different you know.
Wow. I loved getting lost in these poems, especially after I slowed down and started reading no more than a few of them at a time. Every single poem felt like reading a perfect love letter--the kind that feels candid and unsentimental and makes me feel like part of something gorgeous. If you want to explore some of Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha's work, there are a few great videos here: http://www.sinsinvalid.org/video.html
Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha's 'Bodymap' is a poignant celebration of queer disabled love and justice, intertwining themes of liberation and resilience in a lyrical exploration that challenges societal norms and embraces the beauty of diverse experiences.
Rating: 4.75 stars rounded up
Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha's "Bodymap" is a courageous exploration of queer disabled love and justice, intricately woven with themes of liberation, resilience, and belonging. From the very first stanza to the final word, this poetry collection invites readers into a world where the body is revered as a site of knowledge, remembrance, and unapologetic authenticity.
The collection begins with a profound sense of gratitude, setting the tone for an journey that delves deep into the complexities of claiming and redefining home. Through evocative language and poignant imagery, Piepzna-Samarasinha asks fundamental questions about what it means to find sanctuary in a world that often seeks to erase marginalized bodies and experiences.
"Bodymap" is structured into six sections, each offering a kaleidoscopic view of queer desire, survivorship, and transformative love. With a deft hand, this collection navigates through themes of cultural imperialism, ableism, and queer sexuality, illuminating the intersections of identity and activism with striking clarity. These poems serve as both a testament and battle cry, challenging the capitalistic and ableist norms that seek to silence and marginalize marginalized communities.
Piepzna-Samarasinha's poetry is fiercely political yet deeply personal, drawing upon their own experiences as a queer disabled femme-of-color to craft narratives that resonate with raw honesty and vulnerability. Whether celebrating the joy of community care or confronting the realities of navigating a world not built for disabled bodies, Leah's voice rings out with unwavering conviction and strength.
At the heart of "Bodymap" lies a celebration of diversity and resilience, where sapphic and Sri Lankan representation intertwine with themes of anticolonialism, anticapitalism, and antiableism. Through bountiful anecdotes and lyrical explorations, Piepzna-Samarasinha invites readers to embrace the messy, imperfect beauty of femininity and disabled love.
The author's commitment to disability justice is evident throughout the collection, as they unapologetically reject societal norms and insist on the inherent perfection of all bodies. By centering disabled experiences and perspectives, "Bodymap" challenges readers to reevaluate their perceptions of normalcy and embrace neurodivergent pride with open arms.
In addition to its powerful social commentary, "Bodymap" is also a testament to the transformative power of storytelling. Piepzna-Samarasinha's prose-like sequences weave together a tapestry of lived experiences, inviting readers to bear witness to the complexities of queer disabled life.
As a cultural and memory worker, Leah deftly crafts narratives that bridge the gap between past and present, offering glimpses into a history that is both universal and deeply personal. Through its words, “Bodymap” reminds us that the fight for justice is not just a collective struggle but also an individual journey of self-discovery and affirmation.
“Bodymap" is a triumph of queer disabled poetics—a love song to those who dare to exist outside society's narrow confines and a rallying cry for a more inclusive and compassionate world. Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha's voice is a beacon of hope in a sea of uncertainty, guiding readers toward a future where all bodies are celebrated, all love is valid, and all voices are heard.
📖 Recommended For: Advocates of Disability Justice, Supporters of Queer Liberation, Critics of Ableism, Fans of Audre Lorde's "The Cancer Journals."
🔑 Key Themes: Disability Justice, Queer Desire, Survivorship, Transformative Love, Cultural Imperialism, Anticapitalism, Anticolonialism, Community Care, Neurodivergent Pride.
Visceral and unapologetic, this collection of poems is hard femme incarnate. Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasihna writes on disability through the lens of a queer femme-of-color and pens a love song exploring desire, survival, sickness, grief, and the moments that make life worth it.
Blood is spilled in these pages, and Piepzna-Samarasinha allows us to experience the extent of hurt, acknowledge, and emerge with scraped knuckles, smeared lipstick, and so much kindness to the people that matter.
“When I left Worcester, I took the smirk I learned from the side-walk with me, the girl gang of wild weed trees bursting through every vacant lot like a bank robbery kicking down the door with the grin of getting everything for free. I’m as hard-assed as every pretty broken thing in town, every donut shop that’ll tell you off in a heartbeat, every dress with just one fucked-up thing dig out of the Auburn TJ Maxxx quadruple clearance rack.
My city is a lovely tough girl asking you what the fuck you’re looking at, all fitted up in skintight red brick & vinyl siding
My city a broken beautiful bitch with a necklace of junk trees blooming from her throat”
-my city is a hard femme, body map, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
“you will not know you wanted someone to make you full like that. until that moment, when they do.” (20)
“our survival is / the opposite of lazy” (24)
“6. washing dishes for you is foreplay so your rsi wrists can be strong enough to fuck me later.” (26)
“just me being the slut that kept me alive” (35)
“When I think of my crip dating life, half of what I think of is all the times I’ve had to cancel.” “...both our bodies were unpredictable.” “We dated through our dates and through our cancellations” (35 & 36)
“... there was something hot about our trauma-and-abuse flirtation, about how we were moving so, so, slow.” (39)
“that all my body / and all yours / got to love each other / without changing a goddamn thing” (48)
maestra teacher: a rebel teacher manifesta song in many parts
what kind of ancestor do you want to be?
“this is the truth: every worst thing you can imagine will come true.” .... “the answer is in what comes after. what you answered the worst thing in the world with.” (97)
It was a bit hard for me to initially get into this poetry style, but once I did, holy crap, it was smooth sliding all the way! (Pun intended) This is how you pen intersectional poems! Beautiful! Raw, very queer, very rebellious and with so much community and brownness emanating from this collection! We need more voices like these!!
I read an excerpt via audio messages to the girl I am talking to. Specifically the section where her dating life with one of her lovers consisted of more cancellations and reschedules than actually dating each other...
It would feel weird giving this a star rating because I don't think this collection is for me - it seems like a very personal account of experiences I haven't had and can't relate to, and while I enjoyed getting a glimpse into a different life, as poetry it just was not my cup of tea.
I picked this book up for poetry month. I would like to come back to it. It was very compelling writing. I just have to be in the right mood for it and it was taking me a long time to get through it so I'm going to take a break from it.
Very powerful. The evocative language added to the personality of each of the works in this collection. But as with all collected works, some pieces were better than others.