My son shared this poem today by Lucille Clifton, which led to a diversion into the offerings of the Poetry Foundation. Poetry speaks when we are not quite sure what to say.
jasper texas 1998
for j. byrd
i am a man's head hunched in the road.
i was chosen to speak by the members
of my body. the arm as it pulled away
pointed toward me, the hand opened once
and was gone.
why and why and why
should i call a white man brother?
who is the human in this place,
the thing that is dragged or the dragger?
what does my daughter say?
the sun is a blister overhead.
if i were alive i could not bear it.
the townsfolk sing we shall overcome
while hope bleeds slowly from my mouth
into the dirt that covers us all.
i am done with this dust. i am done.
Lucille Clifton, "jasper texas 1998" from Blessing the Boats: New and Selected Poems 1988-2000. Copyright © 2000 by Lucille Clifton. Reprinted with the permission of BOA Editions, Ltd. Source: Blessing the Boats: New and Selected Poems 1988-2000 (BOA Editions Ltd., 2000)
Boy Breaking Glass
To Marc Crawford
from whom the commission
from whom the commission
Whose broken window is a cry of art
(success, that winks aware
as elegance, as a treasonable faith)
is raw: is sonic: is old-eyed première.
Our beautiful flaw and terrible ornament.
Our barbarous and metal little man.
“I shall create! If not a note, a hole.
If not an overture, a desecration.”
Full of pepper and light
and Salt and night and cargoes.
“Don’t go down the plank
if you see there’s no extension.
Each to his grief, each to
his loneliness and fidgety revenge.
Nobody knew where I was and now I am no longer there.”
The only sanity is a cup of tea.
The music is in minors.
Each one other
is having different weather.
“It was you, it was you who threw away my name!
And this is everything I have for me.”
Who has not Congress, lobster, love, luau,
the Regency Room, the Statue of Liberty,
runs. A sloppy amalgamation.
A mistake.
A cliff.
A hymn, a snare, and an exceeding sun.
Gwendolyn Brooks, “Boy Breaking Glass,” from Blacks (Chicago: Third World Press, 1987). Reprinted by consent of Brooks Permissions. Source: Blacks (Third World Press, 1987)
Homage to Black Madonnas
Venerable black women
You of yesterday, you of today.
Black mothers of tomorrow yet to be
These lines are homage to you, for you.
Magnificent black women
The poets and singers have been remiss
Have sung too few poems and songs of you
And the image makers have not recorded your beauty.
Sheba, Nefertiti, Zaiditu, Cleopatra.
Black women, Mothers of humanity, Mother original
Your black children here salute you.
You, bartered, sold, insulted, raped and defiled,
Debased and debauched for four centuries.
Strong women, Gannet, Tubman and Truth.
Weary black women
Your breasts gaunt from nurturing theirs first
And later sustaining yours, caring for theirs
At the same instance providing for yours also.
Women forgotten, Mandy, Melindy, Cindy, and Lisa.
Gentle black women
While being hated, yet teaching love
Being scorned, yet teaching respect
Being humiliated and teaching Compassion.
Humble women, Bessie, Mattie, Lucey, Ann and Willie Mae.
Resourceful black women, with tact
Managing to make do, alter clothing,
Stretch meals, Making room, Prodding, Bolstering
Nudging us on, Protecting, teaching survival.
Laney, Bethune, Keckley, Terrel and Brown.
Militant black women, defending yours with fury
Standing firm, picketing and demonstrating
Kneeling in, sitting in and wading in
Standing, walking, marching and boycotting.
Parks, Wells, Pleasant and Louvestre.
Discerning black women, women of genius
Setting your children a proper example
Teaching that each generation must do its part
To improve life for those coming after.
Nannie, Gaines, Burroughs, Maggie Walker.
Courageous black women, brave and fearless
Seeking to make a home among the unfriendly
Sending your children off to school
To pass unscathed through walls of hate.
Lucy, Bates, Richardson, and Hamer.
Angry black women and understanding
Aware of efforts to stunt your men
Yet urging them manhood again.
Diana, Gloria, Thelma, Ethel, Eva and Marion.
Heroic black women, women of glory
Not turning back, never giving up
Equalling, surpassing the stature
Of any race of women, anywhere, any time.
Billie, Ella, Dinah, Sis-Sirretta, Mahalia.
Black women of genius, brilliant women
Walking through the hateful valleys
In dignity, strength and such serene composure
That even your enemies tremble insecure.
Hansberry, Talbert, Bonds and Baker.
Magnificent black women, hopeful women
Believing that trouble doesn't last always
Knowing this truth, that those who are slaves today
May well be the masters tomorrow, even sooner.
Sisters with all women, black women
Your sufferings echo those of all the oppressed.
Join together all of you in a universal cry
For Peace and the good life for all. The world listens.
Margaret Burroughs, "Homage to Black Madonnas" from What Shall I Tell My Children Who Are Black?. Copyright © 1968, 1992 by Margaret Burroughs. Reprinted by permission of the Margaret Burroughs Estate.
Other poems by Margaret Burroughs can be found here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/146263/what-shall-i-tell-my-children-who-are-black-reflections-of-an-african-american-mother
and the first two poems are from this collection:
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