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“The Miracle of Morning” by American National Youth Poet Laureate Amanda Gorman

16 Sunday Jan 2022

Posted by Rosaliene Bacchus in Poetry, United States

≈ 42 Comments

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African American poet, American National Youth Poet Laureate, Call Us What We Carry: Poems by Amanda Gorman, Pandemic and other poems, Poem “The Miracle of Morning” by Amanda Gorman

American National Youth Poet Laureate Amanda Gorman
Photo by Danny Williams

My Poetry Corner January 2022 features the poem “The Miracle of Morning” from the poetry collection Call Us What We Carry: Poems (Penguin Random House, 2021) by African American poet Amanda Gorman, the youngest presidential inaugural poet in U.S. history. Born in 1998 in Los Angeles, California, she has an older brother and a twin sister. They were all raised by their single mother, a sixth grade English teacher at an inner-city public school. Born prematurely, the twins were diagnosed with a speech and auditory impediment. Some words, particularly those with an “r” sound, were hard for Gorman.

In a December 2021 interview, Gorman told Clint Smith of The Atlantic that it wasn’t until she was six or seven years old that she became aware of her speech impediment. “I was in and out of speech therapy for most of my life,” she said. “And what that did for me was force me to look at language, sounds, cadence, pronunciation actually as an access point of healing and recovery, because I was doing the work of learning English time and time again.”

Gorman started writing children’s stories from about age five. Her interest in poetry began in third grade. She found her voice as a young poet through working with WriteGirl, a Los Angeles based non-profit that assists teen girls to discover the power of their voice through writing. At sixteen years old, she became the 2014 Youth Poet Laureate of Los Angeles. The following year, she published her first book of poems, The One for Whom Food is Not Enough (Urban World LA, 2015).

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“American Sonnet for My Past and Future Assassin” by African American Poet Terrance Hayes

19 Sunday Jul 2020

Posted by Rosaliene Bacchus in Poetry, United States

≈ 36 Comments

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African American poet, America’s violent racism, American Sonnets for My Past and Future Assassin (2018) by Terrance Hayes

My Poetry Corner July 2020 features sonnet 13 from the poetry collection American Sonnets for My Past and Future Assassin (2018) by African American poet Terrance Hayes. (Note: The following excerpts of poems are all sourced from this collection.) Born in 1971 in Columbia, South Carolina, Hayes is a national award-winning poet and university professor. After receiving his MFA from the University of Pittsburgh in 1997, he taught in Japan, Ohio, and Louisiana before returning to the University of Pittsburgh where he worked for several years. In Pittsburgh, he gained local fame as co-director of the Center for African American Poetry and Poetics.

Hayes moved on to New York University to take up his current post of Professor of English. In 2017, he was elected a Chancellor of the Academy of American Poets and now serves as an ex-officio member of the Academy’s Board of Directors. The divorced father of two children resides in New York City.

Hayes’ featured sonnet 13 is one of seventy freestyle sonnets, all bearing the same title and length of fourteen lines required for the poetic form. Written during the first two hundred days of the Trump presidency, the sonnets in this poetry collection are mostly political poems about life, love, and death of black men—haunted and hunted by violent racism.

In his 2018 interview for the Poets & Writers Magazine, Hayes tells interviewer Hanif Abdurraqib why he chose the sonnet: “How can I write a traditional love poem to someone or something I don’t deem worthy of my love? I just don’t know what other form would be able to hold this particular moment.”

He further expands on his poetic choice during his interview for The White Review Magazine in January 2019. In trying to express all the complications of love and politics, “I have to change my mind, because it’s a sonnet, because of the volta,” he tells interviewer Rachel Long. “Otherwise, it’s just a box. Something has to give. So whatever I go in with, I have to come out with something new.”

In sonnet 7, the poet alerts (lines 1/2//13/14):

I lock you in an American sonnet that is part prison,
Part panic closet, a little room in a house set aflame.
[…]
Voltas of acoustics, instincts & metaphor. It is not enough
To love you. It is not enough to want you destroyed.

In the following eight sonnet, the poet pour[s] a pinch of serious poison and merciful panic into [the] river for assassins like James Earl Ray, Dylann Roof, and others named in the poem. On the volta (lines 11-14), he then affirms:

Love trumps power or blood to trump power
Beauty trumps power or blood to trump power
The names alive are like the names in the graves

In the featured thirteenth sonnet on my Poetry Corner July 2020, Hayes describes all the ways in which the black male is silenced and erased by violent racism.

The earth of my nigga eyes are assassinated.
The deep well of my nigga throat is assassinated.
The tender bells of my nigga testicles are gone.
You assassinate the sound of our bullshit & blissfulness.

Hayes commentary on Trump’s rise to the presidency in sonnet 26 (lines 1-4) resounds loudly today:

America, you just wanted change is all, a return
To the kind of awe experienced after beholding a reign
Of gold. A leader whose metallic narcissism is a reflection
Of your own…

He asks in sonnet 30 (lines 4-6):

Is this a mandate for whiteness, virility, sovereignty,
Stupidity, an idiot’s threats & gangsta narcissisms threading
Every shabby sentence his trumpet constructs?

“…I ain’t mad at you, / Assassin,” Hayes writes in sonnet 53 (lines 12-14). “It’s not the bad people who are brave / I fear, it’s the good people who are afraid.” (Emphasis mine)

To read the complete featured thirteenth sonnet, “American Sonnet for My Past and Future Assassin,” and learn more about the work of the poet Terrance Hayes, go to my Poetry Corner July 2020.

“Calling All Grand Mothers” – Poem by Alice Walker

04 Sunday Sep 2016

Posted by Rosaliene Bacchus in Poetry

≈ 13 Comments

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African American poet, “Calling All Grand Mothers” by Alice Walker, Elder women as leaders, Grandmothers

Hard-Times-Require-Furious-Dancing-Alice-Walker-Front Cover

Hard Times Require Furious Dancing by Alice Walker
Photo Credit: New World Library

 

My Poetry Corner September 2016 features the poem “Calling All Grand Mothers” from the poetry collection, Hard Times Require Furious Dancing, by Alice Walker, an African American poet, writer, and activist.

Renowned for her Pulitzer Prize winning 1982 novel, The Color Purple, Alice Walker started her literary writing career as a poet at the age of seven or eight in the racially segregated southeastern state of Georgia. Her first poetry collection (1968) drew from her experiences in the Civil Rights Movement in the 1960s.

The title of Walker’s poetry collection caught my attention. She notes in the Preface: “I share losses, health concerns, and other challenges common to the human condition, especially in these times of war, poverty, environmental devastation, and greed that are quite beyond the most creative imagination… I have learned to dance… for maintaining balance.”

We have hardened towards violence at home and endless wars overseas. We have hardened towards the plight of refugees fleeing our bombs. We have hardened towards the destruction of our ecosystems and extinction of thousands of other species.

Walker reminds us that we are One Earth / One People / One Love.

In “Watching You Hold Your Hatred,” Walker observes:

There is no / graceful / way / to / carry / hatred.
While / hidden / it is / everywhere.

Walker dedicates “Loving Humans” to Aung San Suu Kyi, the then Burmese opposition activist under house arrest:

Loving humans / makes us / want / to invite / ourselves to tea / with rancid / dictators

~ Dictators who may be scheming how to poison, stone, or waterboard us to death.

Although I’m not a grandmother and have never known my grandmothers, the poem that most resonated with me was “Calling All Grand Mothers.” Fortunate to share time and space with the young kids in the apartment complex where I live, I consider myself as possessing the Grand Mother / spirit / of respect for / life / & / protection of / the young…

The poet rallies all grandmothers across our planet to rise and lead:

We have to live / differently / or we / will die / in the same / old ways…

To lead humanity / to health, happiness / & sanity…

The life of / our species / depends / on it.

In an interview with The Atlantic in March 2012, Walker talked about the need for elder women to be in more leadership positions. She noted that the voice of the grandmother has been silenced deliberately. “Clearly older women and especially older women who have led an active life or elder women who successfully maneuver through their own family life have so much to teach us about sharing, patience, and wisdom… Until women can lift their voices, take their rightful place, I don’t think we’re going to shift very much.”

To read the complete featured poem and learn more about Alice Walker and her work, go to my Poetry Corner September 2016.

 

 

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