--Wanda Coleman
Almost any poet will have a hard time getting a book published, marketed or sold. But this is especially true of black writers who unapologetically write honestly and assertively about the black condition, and even more so of those who write about poor blacks, the oppressed, the down-and-out; the brother who just lost his job, the hooker on the corner, the dealer down the street, the addict in an alley getting ready to commit a petty crime, the status of black women in our society. Needless to say, this is not the kind of stuff that sells well at Barnes & Nobles.
Like Evans, Wanda Coleman writes about the black condition, about black folks facing tough times, about tough black women facing tougher times still. Consider this bluesy reaction to the loss of a job:
"got a fifth o mad dog
to celebrate this day
got me a fifth o mad dog
to celebrate this day
a year of unemployment
and two weeks severance pay"
Yes, folks, when you’re poor, God can appear in the form of an unemployment check.
Or consider, in ‘Doing Battle with the Wolf at the Door," Coleman’s take on the police and the state.
“An occasional transfusion arrives in the mail
Or i find plasma in the streets
An occasional vampire flashes my way
But they don’t take much
My enemy is the wolf
Who eats even the mind
i know this
The wolf makes no sexual distinction
i am the right color
He has a fetish for black meat and
Frequently hunts with his mate alongside him"
skillfully uses sex to draw the reader into the poem; and then drops knowledge like Einstein at the chalkboard on what it means to be a black woman in patriarchal white
i follow the curve of his penis
and go down
there is a peculiar light in which women
of my color are regarded by men
being on the bottom where pressures
are greatest is least desirable
would be better to be dead i
sometimes think
there is a peculiar light in which women
of my race are regarded by black men
as saints
as mothers
as sisters
as whores
but mostly as the enemy
it’s not our fault we are victims
who have chosen to struggle and stay alive
there is a peculiar light in which women
of my race are regarded by white men
as exotic 20
as enemy
but mostly as whores
it’s enough to make me cry
but i don’t
following the curve of his penis
i go down
will i ever see
the sun!
“Women of My Color" is classic Coleman; dropping truth, singing blues, and never forgetting-- to paraphrase James Brown, the godfather of soul-- to "make it funky'' in a country where folks would rather climb mountains, bungy jump, watch soap operas or nod off to lame jokes by Jay Leno than hear what they know, deep in their hearts, is the real deal.
The daddy says drink from the cup of poetry. Go ahead: sip some hot soul from the truth-shaker, the sweet Momma Wanda, the Mad Dog Lady. Go ahead. Have some Wanda Coleman.
16 comments:
Wow.
I can't recall the last time I bought a book of poetry, but I think I'd like to have this one.
well done
The combination of her honesty and street language is so powerful!
I have been enjoying your blogs on poetry, they are deep and take me to new places.
Her poetry is positively beautiful and lyrical. Even if the subjects aren't. The pure beauty brings tears to my eyes. That's the mark of a true artist, in my opinion.
Thank you for bringing her into my day and brightening it.
Wow, that's some rich stuff. Strong and powerful. Spicy and hot.
Burns a little going down. Causes a slight feeling of upset stomach. Ya know ya swallowed something.
kit: I think you'll love "African Sleeping Sickness." It has poems from her book "Mad Dog Black Lady," which I think is her rawest and most exciting book, but also fascinating stories. Trust me: You'll love it.
anon; You're on the money: The honesty and the language makes you everything seem so real, so current, so now. You feel you're walking the streets at night with her.
rainywalker: Thanks. I'm doing two more pieces. That will end the series and then I will write something about poetry on weekends, probably on a Saturday.
mountainlaurel: Like you, I'm captivated by the blues rhythm and lyricism. I think you'll love her work as well.
sagacious: Wanda's poetry, passionate poetry, is supposed to get to us and take us to another place. Glad you love it.
Hey there MacDaddy!
I just thought I'd drive by and pick up what was "swiped" from my blog... you DO know exactly what I am referring to... right?? {raised brow}
Don't let the preacher have to pull out her piece!
Lisa
Oh... um... I didn't comment on the post...
I am loving Wanda!!!
I had never heard of her before and when you featured her...I just really connected to her prose...
Keep on giving us more of Wanda!
{thumbs up}
Lisa
Hi, Lisa;
Thanks for the kind comments about Wanda. Actually, I'm surprised so many people have responded to her and other's poetry. I'm going to conclude the series tomorrow. But I'll still write something either on poetry or music every Saturday.
Now, about what I "swiped" from your blog, I'm clueless. Let me and the other readers know...If it's true, I'll just have to live with the embarrassment. luv you.
“Women of My Color" is classic Coleman; dropping truth, singing blues, and never forgetting-- to paraphrase James Brown, the godfather of soul-- to "make it funny..."
I'm thinking "Women of My Color" is not funny...more like Sagacioushillbilly said..."burns a little going down. Causes a slight feeling of upset stomach." Wanda is a powerful poet, a rythmic truthsayer. The truth is necessary, even if its often difficult to stomach. She's keepin it real. Much respect for the sister.
jah
anon: You're right. It's not funny. The James Brown line is "Make it funky." My mistake. I'll make the change. Thanks for pointing that out; and let me know what you think about my most recent post which includes two historic poems I wrote. Thanks again for pointing out my error. Blessings.
daddy, no long explanation needed. I knew what you meant. My kids have stolen most of my JB CDs & I still got about 10 of them. I knew what you meant.
Hey MacDaddy...
Okay...maybe it wasn't your IP address flashing on my screen...
{wink}
Maybe it wasn't the smell of your cologne coming through my computer...
{raised brow}
I'll leave that between you and God....
Luv you....
Lisa
daddy, the poetry is alright. But what about Obama voting for FISA?
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