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Journey to the Place of Ghosts
BY JAY WRIGHT Vault over, world:when the seashell of death washes upthere will be a knelling. —Paul Celan, Stimmen (Voices) Death knocks all night at my door.The soul answers,and runs from the water in my throat.Water will sustain me when I climb the steep hillthat leads to a now familiar place.I began, even as a child, to learn […]
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Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird BY WALLACE STEVENS
1Among twenty snowy mountains, The only moving thing Was the eye of the blackbird. 2I was of three minds, Like a tree In which there are three blackbirds. 3The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds. It was a small part of the pantomime. 4A man and a woman Are one. A man and a woman […]
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Daddy by Sylvia Plath
You do not do, you do not do Any more, black shoeIn which I have lived like a foot For thirty years, poor and white, Barely daring to breathe or Achoo. Daddy, I have had to kill you. You died before I had time——Marble-heavy, a bag full of God, Ghastly statue with one gray toe Big as a Frisco seal And […]
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One Art by Elizabeth Bishop
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;so many things seem filled with the intentto be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose something every day. Accept the flusterof lost door keys, the hour badly spent.The art of losing isn’t hard to master. Then practice losing farther, losing faster:places, and names, and where it […]
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We Real Cool by Gwendolyn Brooks
THE POOL PLAYERS. SEVEN AT THE GOLDEN SHOVEL. We real cool. WeLeft school. We Lurk late. WeStrike straight. We Sing sin. WeThin gin. We Jazz June. WeDie soon.
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The Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Williams
So much dependsupon a red wheelbarrow glazed with rainwater beside the whitechickens
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I Saw in Louisiana A Live-Oak Growing BY WALT WHITMAN
I saw in Louisiana a live-oak growing, All alone stood it and the moss hung down from the branches, Without any companion it grew there uttering joyous leaves of dark green, And its look, rude, unbending, lusty, made me think of myself, But I wonder’d how it could utter joyous leaves standing alone there without […]
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To SMA Young African Painter: On Seeing his Work by Phillis Wheatley
TO show the lab’ring bosom’s deep intent,And thought in living characters to paint,When first thy pencil did those beauties give,And breathing figures learnt from thee to live,How did those prospects give my soul delight,A new creation rushing on my sight?Still, wond’rous youth! each noble path pursue,On deathless glories fix thine ardent view:Still may the painter’s […]
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On Being Brought From Africa to America by Phillis Wheatley
Twas mercy brought me from my Pagan land,Taught my benighted soul to understandThat there’s a God, that there’s a Saviour too:Once I redemption neither sought nor knew.Some view our sable race with scornful eye,“Their colour is a diabolic die.”Remember, Christians, Negros, black as Cain,May be refin’d, and join th’ angelic train.
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A Hymn to the Evening by Phillis Wheatley
Soon as the sun forsook the eastern mainThe pealing thunder shook the heav’nly plain;Majestic grandeur! From the zephyr’s wing,Exhales the incense of the blooming spring.Soft purl the streams, the birds renew their notes,And through the air their mingled music floats.Through all the heav’ns what beauteous dies are spread!But the west glories in the deepest red:So […]
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Songs of Sorrows by Kofi Awoonor
I. Dzogbese Lisa has treated me thusIt has led me among the sharps of the forestReturning is not possibleAnd going forward is a great difficultyThe affairs of this world are like the chameleon fecesInto which I have steppedWhen I clean it cannot go. I am on the world’s extreme corner,I am not sitting in the […]
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A Wake for Okigbo by Chinua Achebe
For whom are we searching?For whom are we searching?For Okigbo we are searching!Nzomalizo! Has he gone for firewood, let him return.Has he gone to fetch water, let him return.Has he gone to the marketplace, let him return.For Okigbo we are searching!Nzomalizo! For whom are we searching?For whom are we searching?For Okigbo we are searching!Nzomalizo! Has […]
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Love Cycle by Chinue Achebe
At dawn slowlythe sun withdraws hislong misty arms ofembrace. Happy lovers whose exertions leaveno aftertaste nor slushof love’s combustion; Earthperfumed in dewdropfragrance wakes to whispers ofsoft-eyed light…Later hewill wear out his temperploughing the vast acresof heaven and take it out of her in burningdarts of anger. Longaccustomed to such capriceshe waits patiently for evening when […]
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Night by Wole Soyinka
Your hand is heavy, Night, upon my brow.I bear no heart mercuric like the clouds,to dare.Exacerbation from your subtle plough.Woman as a clam, on the sea’s cresent.I saw your jealous eye quench the sea’sFlouorescence, dance on the pulse incessantOf the waves. And I stood, drainedSubmitting like the sands, blood and brineCoursing to the roots. Night, […]
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Telephone Conversation by Wole Soyinka
The price seemed reasonable,location Indifferent. The landlady swore she livedOff premises. Nothing remained But self-confession. ‘Madam’ I warned, ‘I hate a wasted journey – I am African.’ Silence. Silenced transmission of pressurized good-breeding. Voice, when it came, Lipstick coated, long gold-rolled Cigarette-holder pipped. Caught I was, foully. ‘How dark?’ I had not misheard. ‘Are you […]
POETISHES
Poetry is the spice of Rationality
POETISHES 