In Lucille Clifton's poems, every word counts. Her poems are mere inkblots on the page, but how they move! All of these poems are on their knees, singing in their own distinct voices. Clifton takes on several voices and personae, all of which are believable and compassionate. I especially love the poems in which she takes on the voice of a male.
This may seem strange, but since I was a child, I have connected african american/black women with masculinity. Here are a few literary/pop-cultural examples: The Color Purple, "Corrina, Corrina", Their Eyes Were Watching God, Jazz...
I'm quite certain that this masculinity has a lot to do with the fact that the characters in these books/films are strong and determined. They have pushed men aside in one form or another, be it through quasi-lesbianism or plain 'ole rejection. Since her poems are quite short, I'll share some that I particularly loved. Of them all, I think this one may be my favorite:
joseph
something about this boy
has spelled my tongue
so even when my fingers tremble
on mary
my mouth cries only
jesus jesus jesus
*
In just six short lines, Clifton arouses all the senses but smell (unless you really envelop yourself into the poem and smell his spicy breath or her salty skin). But all those senses are there, nonetheless. And the movement is there, as well. The spelling of the tongue is a very interesting movement, I think. What a great phrase! It definitely works. But the trembling fingers and the movement of his mouth, I'm sure...is all very sacred. Like I said, these poems are on their knees. I love that. There is lot of spirituality in these poems.
Clifton also takes on a voice that is even higher than God in her poem "god's mood". In this poem, God is a fickle bastard, tired of his creation, kind of resembling Old Testament God. An excerpt:
he is tired of years that keep turning into age
and flesh that keeps widening.
he is tired of waiting for his teeth to
bite him and walk away.
he is tired of bone,
it breaks.
he is tired of eve's fancy
and adam's whining ways.
*
I especially love that final stanza. In my imagination, when I picture Adam & Eve, they are always portrait-still. Holding fruit. Naked or a little covered. There's a serpent. You know, the typical portraiture in which they are conveyed. They're a stagnant image. But that final stanza, for me, brings movement into their limbs. In my imagination, Eve is holding a branch, or pushing something aside to look at something beyond obstruction. She is wandering. She takes a step. Adam, he sits on a tree stump, his chin on his fist. His face is sour and twisted, he runs his hands through his touseled hair--a typical quirk when he gets pissy.
What a great poem.
What a great poem, I say. But I can't help but also ask, "Who is the narrator?" And knowing who the writer is--a woman, a black woman--I shift positions in my seat and smile a little. It is comforting, for a reason I can't really explain, to know it's Clifton.
Clifton writes about Kali, a goddess who stands on Shiva! She is fierce, black, and unstoppable. In Clifton's poem "she insists on me", the narrator (Clifton) fears being consumed by Kali or being entered by Kali. Here is the poem, since it isn't long.
This may seem strange, but since I was a child, I have connected african american/black women with masculinity. Here are a few literary/pop-cultural examples: The Color Purple, "Corrina, Corrina", Their Eyes Were Watching God, Jazz...
I'm quite certain that this masculinity has a lot to do with the fact that the characters in these books/films are strong and determined. They have pushed men aside in one form or another, be it through quasi-lesbianism or plain 'ole rejection. Since her poems are quite short, I'll share some that I particularly loved. Of them all, I think this one may be my favorite:
joseph
something about this boy
has spelled my tongue
so even when my fingers tremble
on mary
my mouth cries only
jesus jesus jesus
*
In just six short lines, Clifton arouses all the senses but smell (unless you really envelop yourself into the poem and smell his spicy breath or her salty skin). But all those senses are there, nonetheless. And the movement is there, as well. The spelling of the tongue is a very interesting movement, I think. What a great phrase! It definitely works. But the trembling fingers and the movement of his mouth, I'm sure...is all very sacred. Like I said, these poems are on their knees. I love that. There is lot of spirituality in these poems.
Clifton also takes on a voice that is even higher than God in her poem "god's mood". In this poem, God is a fickle bastard, tired of his creation, kind of resembling Old Testament God. An excerpt:
he is tired of years that keep turning into age
and flesh that keeps widening.
he is tired of waiting for his teeth to
bite him and walk away.
he is tired of bone,
it breaks.
he is tired of eve's fancy
and adam's whining ways.
*
I especially love that final stanza. In my imagination, when I picture Adam & Eve, they are always portrait-still. Holding fruit. Naked or a little covered. There's a serpent. You know, the typical portraiture in which they are conveyed. They're a stagnant image. But that final stanza, for me, brings movement into their limbs. In my imagination, Eve is holding a branch, or pushing something aside to look at something beyond obstruction. She is wandering. She takes a step. Adam, he sits on a tree stump, his chin on his fist. His face is sour and twisted, he runs his hands through his touseled hair--a typical quirk when he gets pissy.
What a great poem.
What a great poem, I say. But I can't help but also ask, "Who is the narrator?" And knowing who the writer is--a woman, a black woman--I shift positions in my seat and smile a little. It is comforting, for a reason I can't really explain, to know it's Clifton.
Clifton writes about Kali, a goddess who stands on Shiva! She is fierce, black, and unstoppable. In Clifton's poem "she insists on me", the narrator (Clifton) fears being consumed by Kali or being entered by Kali. Here is the poem, since it isn't long.
she insists on me
i offer my
little sister up. no,
she says, no i want
you fat poet with
dead teeth. she insists
on me. my daughters
promise things, they
pretend to be me but
nothing fools her
nothing moves her and
i end up pleading
woman woman i am trying
to make a living here,
woman woman you are not
welcome in these bones,
woman woman please but she
walks past words and
insists on me.
*
This seems to be a twist on the idea of making a deal with the devil. The deal isn't made here, for there seems to be a surrendering. There is a moving at the end of the poem. A movement past the words, and how appropriate! Content and form, right there, moving past the words. She can easily be talking about poetry, right? Ars poetica? An unstoppable force is at work here and I like that there isn't exactly a resolution, but there is an idea as to where it may go.
I've read "homage to my hips" several times. It is one of her more well-known poems. When I was a teaching assistant as an undergrad, I used this poem as an example of a voice poem and I read it out-loud to the class in what I thought was an appropriate voice. Like hips, this poem has round qualities. These round qualities are in the sounds, particularly the vowels. And with the vowels, which are elongated and change frequency, comes attitude. Attitude also resonates when we finally encounter a hard consonant like in the phrase "petty places". You can almost spit at your enemies when saying it.
Gotta love it.
i offer my
little sister up. no,
she says, no i want
you fat poet with
dead teeth. she insists
on me. my daughters
promise things, they
pretend to be me but
nothing fools her
nothing moves her and
i end up pleading
woman woman i am trying
to make a living here,
woman woman you are not
welcome in these bones,
woman woman please but she
walks past words and
insists on me.
*
This seems to be a twist on the idea of making a deal with the devil. The deal isn't made here, for there seems to be a surrendering. There is a moving at the end of the poem. A movement past the words, and how appropriate! Content and form, right there, moving past the words. She can easily be talking about poetry, right? Ars poetica? An unstoppable force is at work here and I like that there isn't exactly a resolution, but there is an idea as to where it may go.
I've read "homage to my hips" several times. It is one of her more well-known poems. When I was a teaching assistant as an undergrad, I used this poem as an example of a voice poem and I read it out-loud to the class in what I thought was an appropriate voice. Like hips, this poem has round qualities. These round qualities are in the sounds, particularly the vowels. And with the vowels, which are elongated and change frequency, comes attitude. Attitude also resonates when we finally encounter a hard consonant like in the phrase "petty places". You can almost spit at your enemies when saying it.
Gotta love it.
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