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.