Welcome to the third Thursday Gathering of Poetry/National Poetry Month celebration!
This week, Bonny, Kat, Sarah, and I will each be sharing a poem about . . . color. I had fun reading poetry with a “colorful” lens this week. There are so many ways poets talk about color! Sometimes it’s quite a direct connection with color (as in the poem I’m sharing today). But sometimes, it’s much more indirect — maybe just a mention, a hint of color, or a play on words. Or even just a colorful feeling the poem brings to the reader.
The poem I’m sharing today is one I’m sure you’ll be familiar with — at least parts of it. It was the first poem that came to mind when I starting thinking about “poetry” and “color.” Enjoy!
Warning
Jenny JosephWhen I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people’s gardens
And learn to spit.You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.But maybe I ought to practise a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
I hope you’re enjoying our celebration of National Poetry Month!
Be sure to visit Bonny, Kat, and Sarah to read other colorful poems this week.
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Today’s poem (which was written in 1961, by the way) is from my copy of When I Am An Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple, edited by Sandra Haldeman Martz, and published by Papier Mache Press in 1987. For more information about today’s poet, Jenny Joseph, click here.
(Special note: This book is a lovely anthology of poems, essays, and photographs all focused on aging and women. I’m not sure if it’s still in print but might be available in libraries. I found this particular copy – which I had never seen before – among my mom’s things when I went through them after she died. I’m not sure where or how she came by the book, and was surprised to find it as she was not a fan of poetry. I like to think that one of her friends gifted it to her, maybe? Regardless of its actual provenance, I’m most delighted to have it in my collection today.)
(And another note: When I first shared this poem with my daughter, who was probably in high school at the time, she was flummoxed by the whole concept of the color purple being “something wild” you couldn’t break out until you were old. So I’m going to guess that that element of this poem hasn’t aged all that well for younger generations. But back in 1961 when the poem was written, purple just “wasn’t done” by “respectable” women. I was told – by someone who should have had more sense but didn’t – when I was in my 20s that purple was “the harlot’s color.” I’m serious. And I was wearing purple. Anyway. Times change. The concept here, though? Not so much.)
Delightful, Kym! I love the permissions here… I believe this poem opened the door for our mothers and grandmothers and I am ever so glad it did! Holland had a “Red Hat Society” and they were riotously fun! (A friend I knit with was a member! I was a bit too young but I remember the joy that my friend talked about getting together with “her people”) Thank you so much for sharing this (and your beautiful memories) here today!
I remember that poem, which gave purple a bad rap. But for a different reason! I thought it meant it was the color of old age, and I never wanted to go there. Now I wear purple all the time (more or less) even though I am marching quickly to that old age. But so far no canes, conspicuous red hats , or peculiar habits are being adopted. Of course there is still plenty of time and opportunity for that:). And I have quite a load of purple yarn.
I only know the first couple of lines of this poem but the whole thing is delightful! And I love Erin’s puzzlement (she with the colorful hair) and you being told purple is the harlot’s color. Now I want to wear purple and walk in my slippers in the rain. Thanks for introducing me to the whole colorful poem!
I loved seeing the entire poem rather than just a garbled version of the first lines! Thanks so much!
Both my mom and mother-in-law attended Red Hat Society meetings (and asked me along) in years past. So I’ve read this poem, but I missed the ending somehow. Start now, with a little impractical outrageous living, so folks aren’t surprised 😉 Thanks for the poem.
I am laughing at “the harlot’s color”! I do remember reading this poem when I was a kid in school, and I don’t think I every really understood it, but now — oh, do I ever! I suspect its lesson of “do what makes you happy and don’t worry what others think” is one we can only really ever get with some life experience behind us.
Purple has been variously, over the centuries, the royal color, the harlot’s color, the rebellious color, and — according to Smokey — the angry color. Nevertheless, I long to own/knit a purple sweater. (Actually, I ordered one from LLBean a couple months ago. When it came Smokey and I had a long disagreement about whether it was purple or brown. I even wore it to knitting group to get their opinions — unanimously purple. When Smoke saw it in daylight he agreed.)
Thanks for sharing the poem! It reminded me that once on (I think) Queer Eye for the Straight Guy (the original group), one of the people (Carson? The Fashion Guy?) said red shoes are for children and prostitutes. I love my red shoes!
I am most definitely enjoying this celebration. and wondering about learning to spit.
I’ve known this poem…someone (?) in my life had it hanging up at home. I find it delightful and something to aspire too! Thanks for sending it our way today Kym!
Oh Kym! I have been a reader of your blog since years now, but have always been a silent one, I have never left a comment before … But this poem causes me to break the silence. 😉
When I was a student, about 30 years ago, I found an anthology by Sandra Haldeman Martz in a bookshop. The title „I Am Becoming The Woman I‘ve Wanted“ spoke to me and I bought the book. It is such a treasure of poems and other short texts and photos and over the years I read it (or parts of it) again and again. The anthology you wrote about was mentioned in the blurb of the book I bought and I literally spent years finding it. Here in Germany it was not available and I really made an effort. But it wasn’t until years later when we had friends in Massachusetts and visited them that I ordered it in a bookshop and finally held it in my hands. It was worth the time waiting. You see, this poem and I have quite a history, so thank you for remembering me today. I think I will dive into some of the poems now.
By the way: Today you find it with one online search.
Thank you for your always inspiring blog, I so appreciate it though I have never said it before.
Christina
My mother loved that poem. The sixties were heady times for women, especially white women. She gave me a copy of that book along with Our Bodies, Our Selves. Remember that one? What a great poem for this week’s theme. Thank you.