The gift of Lucille and Links

When I first read poem entitled "the gift" by Lucille Clifton I threw the book across the room.  That was my direct response. I was in awe, shocked, and maybe a little envious at the time. Thinking it I will never be able to write a poem like this. Self-Doubt. It happens. It had a profound affect and it moved me to tears because this poem reminded me of one of my dearest family members and Harriet Tubman, yes Harriet Tubman. I had recently read had seizures and when she would have episodes she'd also get these messages from God like Moses. Here's a link: http://www.pbs.org/godinamerica/people/harriet-tubman.html 

It made me wonder about how much information we don't receive when we dismiss those who are different as simply crazy or at worst worthless. What if s/he's a modern day Moses, our most precious translators, sources or gifts?  Some illnesses we don't speak of or rarely know about like we have a bent brain stilled tongue, ourselves. This poem proves that clear and straightforward language can say so much and still be layered. "The gift" speaks of God, family, illness, trauma, death and the soul in just three sturdy stanzas.  This also makes it quite mystical.

It appears to me that Lucille Clifton was a gift and a gifted writer in this world and had an undeniable ability to be insightful and truly funny at times.  So yes I'm a little upset that there wasn't more noise when she made her transition or passed away in 2010. She deserves to be wrapped in purple, crimson and gold but unfortunately too many people don't even know her name. One of her most popular poems is quite short and it is "homage to my hips." Reading it was my first introduction to Clifton and it was needed, as I was ready to heal completely regarding my own body image. I was ready to embrace the fact that I had a resistible rack and I was ok with that. She actually also helped to inspire my comedy bit about being a skinny girl and a poem I wrote called "tit for tat."  

So often poets of color are accused of talking about hair but she also chose to talk about her hips, which is a topic, every woman can relate to in an effort to inspire those who still don't believe they are beautiful. We can theorize why we still sense the need to reclaim our bodies through our poetry depending on our generation but the truth is some young girl somewhere will still benefit from a poet preaching self-love in his or her poems. Lucille Clifton didn't stop there thought she also reclaimed Black folks images in the kitchen, from Uncle Ben to the guy on the Cream of Wheat box no one even thought to name. Yes you have to check out a couple of her poems about Aunt Jemima. She reads one in this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qHJz8lxYaSA. She knows she's possibly being boxed in as a writer as well, but it seems as though she doesn't care because I believe she like many of her era, believed she had a sense of obligation to speak for her people and she addresses this indirectly in an untitled poem in the book Mercy immediately following the chapter heading "stories".  

surely i am able to write poems

celebrating grass and how the blue

in the sky can flow green or red

and the waters lean against the 

chesapeake shore like a familiar, 

poems about nature and landscape

surely  but whenever i begin

"the trees wave their knotted branches

and..." why

is there under that poem always

an other poem?

This too links me to a  poem I wrote before I even heard of Clifton, which has served as a popular piece of mine, I entitled it "Poetree" and it too has an other poem buried within it, still...trying to get out. I also wonder why. If you don't know what I'm talking about visit this online museum: http://withoutsanctuary.org/main.html

Given I would have loved to meet Lucille Clifton. I will leave you with a song I love by Anthony Hamilton, which I'll dedicate to Lucille Clifton's memory. I find it very poetic and it's called "Lucille".  R.I.P. LOVE.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmbGA7Jl-hk