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Hello. Come on in. The daddy writes about current events, literature, music and, once in a while, drops something on you from back in the day to make you pause and ponder, stop and stare, and begin to wonder. Who knows? You may start to pace the floor, shake your head from side to side, then fall down on bended knees in a praying position and cry, "Lawd, have mercy! What is this world coming to?" Check yourself! But this blog is NOT about the daddy. It's about you: your boos, your fam, your hood, your country...our hopes and dreams of a better tomorrow. So let's make a pact: the daddy will put it on the track if you'll chase it down and hit him back. Together, we can definitely take it to another level. Shall we?"

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Lucille Clifton; Part II: A Poem from Clifton, a Poem from the daddy

"Poetry is a matter of life, not just a matter of language."

homage to my hips

by Lucille Clifton

these hips are big hips
they need space to
move around in.
they don't fit into little
petty places. these hips
are free hips.
they don't like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved.
they go where they want to go.
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
i have known them
to put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top!

My Sassy Lucille (for Lucille Clifton)
by Mac Walton (MacDaddy)
1
Lucille,
they say you won’t do your sister will.
I say you just sassy, a might brassy
and I likes my black coffee
just the way it is.

2
I likes your thick lips, that big butt,
them wide, swinging hips.
I likes your ear fine-tuned, your eyes deep-set
them eyes that see past me: me
and my white shirt pilling; me
and my top button missing; me
and my ring around the collar getting
darker and darker; me and my sweet dreams of you, me
and you listening to each other, me and you hearing each other,
the way it once was, the way it always outta be—free.

3
Lucille,
they say you won’t do your sister’s will.
I say keep juicing them thick, red lips.

Keep rocking that wide butt; keep swinging them fine hips.
Keep hearing my loud laughter over BB's singing
over barbecue steaming from mama’s warm kitchen.

Keep feeling my stomach pains, my hungry hearth crying out again
for hot collard greens and new tomorrows under
damp dark bridges, cold cardboard boxes, lonely park benches
in half-frozen, muddy trenches.

4
Lucille,
they say you won’t do your sister’s will.
I say you just sassy, a might brassy,
and I likes my black coffee
just the way it is.

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

Excellent, daddy. Did you send
it to her?

rainywalker said...

Quite beautiful and feeling.

MacDaddy said...

anon: No, I never sent it to her. But that's a good suggestion. I think I will.
rainywalker: Thanks.

SagaciousHillbilly said...

Ahhh, love poetry. Maybe my favorite kind.

Poetry comes from the passion of the heart. Usually it's about struggle, pain, heart ache, injustice and things like that that cause those passions that make us grow but aint no fun. When poetry is about the LOVE from the heart, it shines bright and glorious!

Shine on dude.

Kellybelle said...

Love, love, love it!
Poetry that makes the soul feel beautiful.
Thanks

MacDaddy said...

sagacious: So true.
kellybelle: Thanks and welcome home. I bet you had a great time in NY.

Stella said...

Daddy, I'm an ex-English major. The poetry you post opens my heart again after too many years of critical theoretical nonsense. Thank you profoundly.

This Lucille Clifton poem knocks me out. Every woman should read "homage to my hips." If you don't mind, I may need to borrow this poem. Here's yet another strong woman we never studied in school.

these hips are big hips
they need space to
move around in.
they don't fit into little
petty places. these hips
are free hips.

Anonymous said...

daddy, looking at your sidebar, I see you've written many poems. come on. don't be shy. let's have at a few more please

Who's That Gurl? said...

Whew, this is the hotness, daddy! Do you mind if I add a link to this on the Hidden Beach forum -- http://family.hiddenbeach.com/ (or you could add it)?

This is too tremendous not to share with other poets who'd appreciate it.