DEREK WALCOTT, the celebrated Caribbean poet considered one of the most important figures in post-colonial literature, could be Oxford University's first black Professor of Poetry. So far Andrew Motion has ruled himself out and Ruth Padel has ruled herself in.
Now I can reveal there is a campaign underway by biographer Hermione Lee to have Walcott elected to the position. The five year post is considered the most prestigious in poetry after the laureateship and previous incumbents include W H Auden, Seamus Heaney and Paul Muldoon.
[continue there...]
28 February 2009
27 February 2009
100 Best Blogs for Learning About Africa
100 Best Blogs for Learning About Africa
January 29th, 2009
By Alisa Miller
The continent of Africa is the second-most populated in the world and has 53 countries within its bounds. With so many people and nationalities, it should be no surprise that the diversity found there is enormous. While poverty and war are a part of Africa, so is technology, bustling cities, and unique culture found nowhere else on Earth. These blogs bring together the richness and diversity that is Africa with voices covering specific countries, experiences across the borders, news, technology, art, and culture.
All About Africa:
These blogs provide a glimpse into politics, human rights, technology, cool gadgets made specifically for Africa and more as the bloggers span across the continent.
[continue there...]
January 29th, 2009
By Alisa Miller
The continent of Africa is the second-most populated in the world and has 53 countries within its bounds. With so many people and nationalities, it should be no surprise that the diversity found there is enormous. While poverty and war are a part of Africa, so is technology, bustling cities, and unique culture found nowhere else on Earth. These blogs bring together the richness and diversity that is Africa with voices covering specific countries, experiences across the borders, news, technology, art, and culture.
All About Africa:
These blogs provide a glimpse into politics, human rights, technology, cool gadgets made specifically for Africa and more as the bloggers span across the continent.
[continue there...]
26 February 2009
Agreement reached with Google
The Pan African Writers’ Association (PAWA), has mounted a campaign to alert all African writers and publishers on a recent agreement reached with Google over the digitization and show of in copyright books. In a statement, the Secretary-General of PAWA Atukwei Okai said the groundbreaking settlement of 125 million US dollars was reached in a class action brought on behalf of a broad class of authors, publishers as well as the US Copyright holders worldwide against the search engine superpower, Google.
[continue there...]
[continue there...]
25 February 2009
DEMAIN
(by Aimé Césaire)
Je suppose que le monde soit une forêt. Bon!
Il y a des baobabs, du chêne vif, des sapins noirs, du noyer blanc;
Je veux qu'ils poussent tous, bien fermes et drus, différents
de bois, de ports, de couleur,
mais pareillement pleins de sève et sans que l'un empiète
sur l'autre,
différents à leur base
mais oh!
que leurs têtes se rejoignent oui très haut dans l’éther
égal à ne former pour tous
qu’un seul toit
je dis l’unique toit tutélaire…
from "Et les chiens se taisaient", 1997
TOMORROW
I take the world to be a forest. Right!
There are baobabs, lively oak, black fir, the hickory tree;
I want them all to grow, strong and dense, each different
by wood, aspect, colour,
but equally filled with sap and with none encroaching
on another,
different at their base
but oh!
may their heads meet yes high up in the ether
equivalent to forming for all
just one roof
I say the only protective roof...
© Aimé Césaire
translated from the French by Rethabile Masilo
As usual in such cases, I beg Mr Césaire's pardon for attempting to translate his words. May he rest in peace. I encountered several difficulties in translating "Demain" from the original French into English, but the main one is perhaps the poet's use of the word toit, which means "roof". In French, toit (roof) sounds exactly like toi (you). They're pronounced /twa/. And so
égal à ne former pour tous
qu’un seul toit
je dis l’unique toit tutélaire...
is at once
equivalent to forming for all
just one roof
I say the only protective roof...
and
equivalent to forming for all
just one you
I say the only protective you...
I have not been able to find a way around this, and therefore opted for the literal roof meaning at the expense of the you meaning embodied by sound alone. Any ideas around this?
The 2009 International Reginald Shepherd Memorial Poetry Prize
Knockout recently established a new poetry contest, the 2009 International Reginald Shepherd Memorial Poetry Prize, to honor the life and work of highly acclaimed poet Reginald Shepherd, who left us on September 10, 2008. For more information on Reginald Shepherd’s work, visit his blog at reginaldshepherd.blogspot.com. One of Shepherd’s previously unpublished poems will appear in Knockout #2.
Here is the essential contest information, but DO NOT submit to the contest without reading the entire contest submission guidelines.
[source...]
Here is the essential contest information, but DO NOT submit to the contest without reading the entire contest submission guidelines.
- The contest will be judged by Carl Phillips.
- The entry fee is $12 and all entrants will receive a copy of Knockout with their entrance fee.
- The first-place winner will receive (1) a $300 gift certificate to Powell’s Books, (2) publication in a forthcoming issue of Knockout, and (3) five copies of the issue in which their poem appears.
- The second-place winner will receive (1) a $50 gift certificate to Powell’s Books, (2) publication in a forthcoming issue of Knockout, and (3) two copies of the issue in which their poem appears.
- The third-place winner will receive (1) a $25 gift certificate to Powell’s Books, (2) publication in a forthcoming issue of Knockout, and (3) two copies of the issue in which their poem appears.
- Submit on or before Saturday, August 1, 2009.
- Winners will be announced on Knockout’s website (knockoutlit.org) by Wednesday, September 30, 2009.
[source...]
24 February 2009
The Stronger One
Some of you will remember Robin. Yes, the musing one. She's back. (Welcome back, Robin!) Her hello to us begins:
Can't quite remember the
curve of your face, velvet
hairline, the specks of...
[continue there...]
Nikki's "Choices"
If i can't do
what i want to do
then my job is to not
do what i don't want
to do
It's not the same thing
but it's the best i can
do
If i can't have
what i want . . . then
my job is to want
what i've got
and be satisfied
that at least there
is something more to want
Since i can't go
where i need
to go . . . then i must . . . go
where the signs point
through always understanding
parallel movement
isn't lateral
When i can't express
what i really feel
i practice feeling
what i can express
and none of it is equal
I know
but that's why mankind
alone among the animals
learns to cry
© Nikki Giovanni
[source...]
what i want to do
then my job is to not
do what i don't want
to do
It's not the same thing
but it's the best i can
do
If i can't have
what i want . . . then
my job is to want
what i've got
and be satisfied
that at least there
is something more to want
Since i can't go
where i need
to go . . . then i must . . . go
where the signs point
through always understanding
parallel movement
isn't lateral
When i can't express
what i really feel
i practice feeling
what i can express
and none of it is equal
I know
but that's why mankind
alone among the animals
learns to cry
© Nikki Giovanni
[source...]
22 February 2009
The Obama Effect
Now when millions of school children look at President Obama, they see a role model who looks like them. Does it make a difference? I think it does.
In fact, there is a study out (already!) that says it does. It is called The Obama Effect and was described in an article by Sam Dillon in the New York Times on January 23, 2009.
The study is authored by three professors and has already drawn comments by Dr. Ronald F. Ferguson, a Harvard professor who studies the factors that have affected the achievement gap between white and nonwhite students.
Initially, when 472 Americans took the test last summer, there was an achievement gap between whites and nonwhites. But on the tests administered immediately after President Obama's acceptance speech and just after his election victory, black performance improved, making the white-black gap "statistically nonsignificant."
[continue there...]
In fact, there is a study out (already!) that says it does. It is called The Obama Effect and was described in an article by Sam Dillon in the New York Times on January 23, 2009.
The study is authored by three professors and has already drawn comments by Dr. Ronald F. Ferguson, a Harvard professor who studies the factors that have affected the achievement gap between white and nonwhite students.
Initially, when 472 Americans took the test last summer, there was an achievement gap between whites and nonwhites. But on the tests administered immediately after President Obama's acceptance speech and just after his election victory, black performance improved, making the white-black gap "statistically nonsignificant."
[continue there...]
21 February 2009
Praise for The Inaugural Poet, January, 2009
Perhaps it’s an impossible task
On an impossible day. A young poet
Fixes her gaze along the plaza,
Looks at this latest version of America in the eyes,
Looks in the camera at all the places we’ve touched
Or torched.
Sees who’s come to this roll call:
The out of the wood-works, the I never even dreams,
The I never thought I’d live this longs.
Stands in the sharp report of weak January sun.
The poet probably knows
This family is hers.
The poet probably knows
Before she cuts history to forty-two lines,
Before the capitol has more proof
Of what bullets and ropes couldn’t stop,
She has to straighten her back. She needs to take
A deep breath. A black woman is here.
All the black women in her are here to sing.
© Cornelius Eady
Cornelius Eady’s latest book of poems, Hardheaded Weather (Marian Wood/Putnam) was nominated for an 2008 NAACP Image Award. He is co-founder of Cave Cavem and teaches at the University of Notre Dame.
On an impossible day. A young poet
Fixes her gaze along the plaza,
Looks at this latest version of America in the eyes,
Looks in the camera at all the places we’ve touched
Or torched.
Sees who’s come to this roll call:
The out of the wood-works, the I never even dreams,
The I never thought I’d live this longs.
Stands in the sharp report of weak January sun.
The poet probably knows
This family is hers.
The poet probably knows
Before she cuts history to forty-two lines,
Before the capitol has more proof
Of what bullets and ropes couldn’t stop,
She has to straighten her back. She needs to take
A deep breath. A black woman is here.
All the black women in her are here to sing.
© Cornelius Eady
Cornelius Eady’s latest book of poems, Hardheaded Weather (Marian Wood/Putnam) was nominated for an 2008 NAACP Image Award. He is co-founder of Cave Cavem and teaches at the University of Notre Dame.
20 February 2009
My book on the floor
Yes, I'm still at it. Less for the writing of poems, much more for the organisation of them, and other considerations. For example, I'm looking for a Mosotho artist to help me with the front cover. Do you know of one?
Spreading your book in this way, as January suggested in one of her posts that I'm not gonna hunt down, helped me see everything in a new light, inter-related, which allowed me to reshuffle the poems as a result.
19 February 2009
American sentence: "Last message"
We regret to inform you that your life is over. Four, three, two, one...
18 February 2009
Subject: Call for poems for 28 Feb issue
Hi folks,
Please submit your poems for the next issue, and get friends to do the same. Submissions to write@protestpoems.org.
Look forward to hearing from you.
Peace,
R
Please submit your poems for the next issue, and get friends to do the same. Submissions to write@protestpoems.org.
Look forward to hearing from you.
Peace,
R
Walcott's "Islands"
ISLANDS
For Margaret
Merely to name them is the prose
Of diarists, to make you a name
For readers who like travellers praise
Their beds and beaches as the same;
But islands can only exist
If we have loved in them. I seek,
As climate seeks its style, to write
Verse crisp as sand, clear as sunlight,
Cold as the curved wave, ordinary
As a tumbler of island water;
Yet, like a diarist, thereafter
I savour their salt-hunted rooms
(Your body stirring the creased sea
Of crumpled sheets), whose mirrors lose
Our huddled, sleeping images,
Like words which love had hoped to use
Erased with the surf's pages.
So, like a diarist in sand,
I mark the peace with which you graced
Particular islands, descending
A narrow stair to light the lamps
Against the night surf's noises, shielding
A leaping mantle with one hand,
Or simply scaling fish for supper,
Onions, jack-fish, bread, red snapper;
And on each kiss the harsh sea-taste,
And how by moonlight you were made
To study most the surf's unyielding
Patience though it seems a waste.
Extract from 'Derek Walcott: Selected Poems' edited by Edward Baugh (Faber, £12.99)
[source...]
For Margaret
Merely to name them is the prose
Of diarists, to make you a name
For readers who like travellers praise
Their beds and beaches as the same;
But islands can only exist
If we have loved in them. I seek,
As climate seeks its style, to write
Verse crisp as sand, clear as sunlight,
Cold as the curved wave, ordinary
As a tumbler of island water;
Yet, like a diarist, thereafter
I savour their salt-hunted rooms
(Your body stirring the creased sea
Of crumpled sheets), whose mirrors lose
Our huddled, sleeping images,
Like words which love had hoped to use
Erased with the surf's pages.
So, like a diarist in sand,
I mark the peace with which you graced
Particular islands, descending
A narrow stair to light the lamps
Against the night surf's noises, shielding
A leaping mantle with one hand,
Or simply scaling fish for supper,
Onions, jack-fish, bread, red snapper;
And on each kiss the harsh sea-taste,
And how by moonlight you were made
To study most the surf's unyielding
Patience though it seems a waste.
Extract from 'Derek Walcott: Selected Poems' edited by Edward Baugh (Faber, £12.99)
[source...]
17 February 2009
Tagged! Meme! 15 books!
List fifteen book that have had a significant influence on you. Tag fifteen friends and ask them to do the same. The term "book" includes multi-volume works (i.e., the Forsyte Saga counts as a single book, and yes, I have read it), and anthologies. You may choose to explain the influence, or not, as you wish. Thank you Pam, thank you Fragano. Here are mine:
Thomas Mofolo, ‘Chaka’
The first book by a Mosotho writer that blew me away. It has been translated into more than twenty languages. I read it in Sesotho, then in English.
Ernest Hemingway, ‘The Old Man and the Sea’
I reread this book about six months ago and could not put it down. Human resilience, determination, and then that thing hemingway does with words.
e.e. cummings, ‘selected poems (1923 – 1958)’
I discovered here poetry that to my mind didn’t look like poetry, but sang all the same. In the 1980s I tried my hand at his art, but cummings was better of course.
Antjie Krog, ‘Body Bereft’
I bought this book two years ago when I went home for the summer holiday (winter there). I immediately liked the style and the sound, and found myself, when I got back to Europe, writing several poems in her style almost automatically.
Chinua Achebe, ‘Collected Poems’
This book mainly told me that a writer of fiction can also be a poet. I’ve since encountered poets who wrote fiction, and vice versa, but this was the eye-opener.
Robert Frost, ‘Selected Poems’
Form. This is where I learned to write sonnets and to write local. I had a heck of a time expelling Frost from my poems. Even today, his sound still haunts me, and he tries to complete my lines for me, but I don’t let him (I think).
Malcolm Gladwell, ‘Blink’
This book taught me that thinking could be important, and that it could shape personality. Full-stop. It was a most enjoyable read.
Omar Khayyam, ‘The Ruba’iyat’
My spouse if of Persian origin, and I discovered Omar Khayyam because of love. I haven’t regretted it ever since.
"The Moving Finger writes: and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it."
Toni Morrison, ‘Beloved’
Karl Marx, ‘Communist Manifesto’
Umberto Eco, ‘The Name of the Rose’
Thomas Mofolo, ‘Moeti oa Bochabela’
Ngugi wa Thiongo, ‘A Grain of Wheat’
Camara Laye, ‘The African Child’
Bennet Makalo Khaketla, ‘Lesotho 1970’
Thomas Mofolo, ‘Chaka’
The first book by a Mosotho writer that blew me away. It has been translated into more than twenty languages. I read it in Sesotho, then in English.
Ernest Hemingway, ‘The Old Man and the Sea’
I reread this book about six months ago and could not put it down. Human resilience, determination, and then that thing hemingway does with words.
e.e. cummings, ‘selected poems (1923 – 1958)’
I discovered here poetry that to my mind didn’t look like poetry, but sang all the same. In the 1980s I tried my hand at his art, but cummings was better of course.
Antjie Krog, ‘Body Bereft’
I bought this book two years ago when I went home for the summer holiday (winter there). I immediately liked the style and the sound, and found myself, when I got back to Europe, writing several poems in her style almost automatically.
Chinua Achebe, ‘Collected Poems’
This book mainly told me that a writer of fiction can also be a poet. I’ve since encountered poets who wrote fiction, and vice versa, but this was the eye-opener.
Robert Frost, ‘Selected Poems’
Form. This is where I learned to write sonnets and to write local. I had a heck of a time expelling Frost from my poems. Even today, his sound still haunts me, and he tries to complete my lines for me, but I don’t let him (I think).
Malcolm Gladwell, ‘Blink’
This book taught me that thinking could be important, and that it could shape personality. Full-stop. It was a most enjoyable read.
Omar Khayyam, ‘The Ruba’iyat’
My spouse if of Persian origin, and I discovered Omar Khayyam because of love. I haven’t regretted it ever since.
"The Moving Finger writes: and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it."
Toni Morrison, ‘Beloved’
Karl Marx, ‘Communist Manifesto’
Umberto Eco, ‘The Name of the Rose’
Thomas Mofolo, ‘Moeti oa Bochabela’
Ngugi wa Thiongo, ‘A Grain of Wheat’
Camara Laye, ‘The African Child’
Bennet Makalo Khaketla, ‘Lesotho 1970’
Kennebunkport
"We like to joke that the South Side of Chicago is our Kennebunkport."
~Michelle Obama, comparing the humble neighborhood where she grew up to the Bush family compound, in an interview with Vogue magazine. The First Lady also graces the cover
~Michelle Obama, comparing the humble neighborhood where she grew up to the Bush family compound, in an interview with Vogue magazine. The First Lady also graces the cover
16 February 2009
Win a book!
Join our blog community. Tell your friends about us. Tell us what you'd like to see here. We want to hear from you. Interaction is key to a thriving community.
To entice you, we’re running a link promotion. Add us to your blog roll or other sidebar links, and we’ll enter your name in a drawing for a free book from our Prize Bucket or a $5 Amazon gift certificate. Leave a comment for each entry.
Earn extra entries:
+1 -add a link to our promotion in your sidebar
+2 -blog about our promotion
+2 -if a poster leaves us a comment that you referred them to us
Deadline is February 28. 2 winners will be announced March 1st.
[source...]
To entice you, we’re running a link promotion. Add us to your blog roll or other sidebar links, and we’ll enter your name in a drawing for a free book from our Prize Bucket or a $5 Amazon gift certificate. Leave a comment for each entry.
Earn extra entries:
+1 -add a link to our promotion in your sidebar
+2 -blog about our promotion
+2 -if a poster leaves us a comment that you referred them to us
Deadline is February 28. 2 winners will be announced March 1st.
[source...]
Komunyakaa's "Work"
I won't look at her.
My body's been one
Solid motion from sunrise,
Leaning into the lawnmower's
Roar through pine needles
& crabgrass. Tiger-colored
Bumblebees nudge pale blossoms
Till they sway like silent bells
Calling. But I won't look.
[continue there...]
My body's been one
Solid motion from sunrise,
Leaning into the lawnmower's
Roar through pine needles
& crabgrass. Tiger-colored
Bumblebees nudge pale blossoms
Till they sway like silent bells
Calling. But I won't look.
[continue there...]
15 February 2009
14 February 2009
Blackjack
BLACKJACK
Blackjack n. The spiky, adhesive seed of the weed Bidens pilosa
which clings firmly.
He loved her words which caught
him so much like blackjacks
that he wanted to undress
her because she seemed such
an attractive person and so
different from his wife.
He wooed and wooed with
all his exercise till she
succumbed in a bed of
country veld where
blackjacks hooked onto
her unwanted underwear and
that was very nice but
he missed her words and
her body was as smooth as
his wife’s. So very tenderly
he removed from her sweater
the blackjacks one by one
and sent her back to her writing
board where she pinned
her blanket-stabber weeds
one by one and bit
back the cat-yowl sting.
© Finuala Dowling
[source...]
Blackjack n. The spiky, adhesive seed of the weed Bidens pilosa
which clings firmly.
He loved her words which caught
him so much like blackjacks
that he wanted to undress
her because she seemed such
an attractive person and so
different from his wife.
He wooed and wooed with
all his exercise till she
succumbed in a bed of
country veld where
blackjacks hooked onto
her unwanted underwear and
that was very nice but
he missed her words and
her body was as smooth as
his wife’s. So very tenderly
he removed from her sweater
the blackjacks one by one
and sent her back to her writing
board where she pinned
her blanket-stabber weeds
one by one and bit
back the cat-yowl sting.
© Finuala Dowling
[source...]
Happy Valentine's Day everyone!
Nikki: "How to write a love poem"
“5-If I could give just one piece of advice about writing a love poem I would remind the writer that love is about the lover not the beloved. It’s about how you feel not how he responds. That should free you to set your heart on your sleeve; no one is going to knock it off.”
“4-Everything about love and life is the simplicity of it. The most important thing to keep in mind is to be clear. The Dells sang Love Is So Simple and I think they are right. Nat ‘King’ Cole sang I Love You (for Sentimental Reasons); clear as a bell. Cole Porter wrote You’d Be So Nice To Come Home To. Classic. All of them. Clear. You can feel the longing.”
“3-The most common writing mistake, period, is complication. The reader does not want to figure out what you mean. Neither does your beloved. Prince says I Want To Be Your Lover. Boom. You know where you stand.”
“2-There must be an internal rhythm to a love poem; the desire must come out. The mistake a lot of people make is to over-think the poem. To reach out for images when just letting the longing of the heart come through would be sufficient.”
“1-If someone writes you a love poem you’d have to be an idiot to say it was not a good poem. That’s like someone saying ‘I love that dress on you’ and you saying ‘What? This ole thing?’ The proper answer is a sweet smile and a thank you. If you have feelings for that person you can always blush.”
Giovanni concludes, “Writing a good love poem is like being a good lover. You have to touch, taste, take your time to tell that this is real. The Supremes say You Can’t Hurry Love and you can’t fake it, either.”
[continue there...]
“4-Everything about love and life is the simplicity of it. The most important thing to keep in mind is to be clear. The Dells sang Love Is So Simple and I think they are right. Nat ‘King’ Cole sang I Love You (for Sentimental Reasons); clear as a bell. Cole Porter wrote You’d Be So Nice To Come Home To. Classic. All of them. Clear. You can feel the longing.”
“3-The most common writing mistake, period, is complication. The reader does not want to figure out what you mean. Neither does your beloved. Prince says I Want To Be Your Lover. Boom. You know where you stand.”
“2-There must be an internal rhythm to a love poem; the desire must come out. The mistake a lot of people make is to over-think the poem. To reach out for images when just letting the longing of the heart come through would be sufficient.”
“1-If someone writes you a love poem you’d have to be an idiot to say it was not a good poem. That’s like someone saying ‘I love that dress on you’ and you saying ‘What? This ole thing?’ The proper answer is a sweet smile and a thank you. If you have feelings for that person you can always blush.”
Giovanni concludes, “Writing a good love poem is like being a good lover. You have to touch, taste, take your time to tell that this is real. The Supremes say You Can’t Hurry Love and you can’t fake it, either.”
[continue there...]
13 February 2009
Three little words rhymes with three little birds
Happy Valentine's Day everyone. Today I'm, we're, celebrating 21 years of marriage. Thanks for popping in. Now, take this with you: "Three simple words. But they are the most difficult words to say to a friend or partner and especially within Black and Caribbean families. This became painfully clear to me as I sat on a panel to discuss Reaching up for Manhood by Geoffrey Canada."
[continue there...]
[continue there...]
Kojo interview
Born in Munich, Germany to a Ghanaian father and German mother, Kojo spent his formative years on the streets of Maseru, Lesotho; spent some time in Germany to get in touch with his Germanic roots; and ended up receiving his Bachelor of Commerce at the University of KwaZulu-Natal.
The well-travelled and vastly knowledgeable Kojo has since had varied working experiences in a number of sectors including IT, fashion and cosmetics, and publishing. However, Kojo is more famed for his amazing gift of writing, whether as a poet or a writer of lifestyle issues and popular culture. He currently lives with his lovely wife and son in Johannesburg, where he is often referred to as ‘the love poet’.
Jamati.com spoke to the ever-growing and ever-innovative writer/poet and media consulting extraordinaire about his life, poetry and gift as a writer.
[continue there...]
The well-travelled and vastly knowledgeable Kojo has since had varied working experiences in a number of sectors including IT, fashion and cosmetics, and publishing. However, Kojo is more famed for his amazing gift of writing, whether as a poet or a writer of lifestyle issues and popular culture. He currently lives with his lovely wife and son in Johannesburg, where he is often referred to as ‘the love poet’.
Jamati.com spoke to the ever-growing and ever-innovative writer/poet and media consulting extraordinaire about his life, poetry and gift as a writer.
[continue there...]
12 February 2009
Wole Soyinka's "Night"
NIGHT
—Wole Soyinka, b. 1934, Nigeria
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's
Fluorescence, dance on the pulse incessant
Of the waves. And I stood, drained
Submitting like the sand, blood and brine
Coursing to the roots. Night, you rained
Serrated shadows through dank leaves
Till, bathed in warm suffusion of your dappled cells
Sensations pained me, faceless, silent as night thieves.
Hide me now, when night children haunt the earth
I must hear none! These misted calls will yet
Undo me; naked, unbidden, at Night's muted birth.
© Wole Soyinka
[source...]
More on this author:
—Wole Soyinka, b. 1934, Nigeria
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's
Fluorescence, dance on the pulse incessant
Of the waves. And I stood, drained
Submitting like the sand, blood and brine
Coursing to the roots. Night, you rained
Serrated shadows through dank leaves
Till, bathed in warm suffusion of your dappled cells
Sensations pained me, faceless, silent as night thieves.
Hide me now, when night children haunt the earth
I must hear none! These misted calls will yet
Undo me; naked, unbidden, at Night's muted birth.
© Wole Soyinka
[source...]
- Read another poem by this same author on Poéfrika
- Visit Mr Soyinka's Wikipedia page
11 February 2009
10 February 2009
The latest Juke Jar, ladies and gents
Ruth Sabath Rosenthal ..... 3rd Ave. and 85th St., NYC
Geoffrey Philp ..... Bachata
William M. Alexander ..... Six Steel Strings
Pati Rice ..... Morning Lullaby
Rethabile Masilo ..... Thetsane Blues
I.V. Jones ..... Outside Holly Ridge
Geoffrey Philp ..... Bachata
William M. Alexander ..... Six Steel Strings
Pati Rice ..... Morning Lullaby
Rethabile Masilo ..... Thetsane Blues
I.V. Jones ..... Outside Holly Ridge
It's gonna stop someday, right?
Barack Obama’s election as America’s first black president has unleashed a wave of hate crimes across the nation, according to police and monitoring organisations.
Far from heralding a new age of tolerance, Mr Obama’s victory in the November 4 poll has highlighted the stubborn racism that lingers within some elements of American society as opponents pour their frustration into vandalism, harassment, threats and even physical attacks.
[continue there...]
Far from heralding a new age of tolerance, Mr Obama’s victory in the November 4 poll has highlighted the stubborn racism that lingers within some elements of American society as opponents pour their frustration into vandalism, harassment, threats and even physical attacks.
[continue there...]
8 February 2009
Self-portrait
Back on my knees here before the cross
upon a stage upon an altar down in
the shrine, here’s my pirouette to the world,
my curtain-dropping whirl, whirl.
Death is art, let me tell you, and must
for its own sake be, like the Rapanui
who quit their island but kept the promise
to leave their stones watching the seas.
I’m not here to remove life support
but to snap something vital; by knife,
the rope my body longs for, a bend
in the road I drive toward the end.
© Rethabile Masilo
upon a stage upon an altar down in
the shrine, here’s my pirouette to the world,
my curtain-dropping whirl, whirl.
Death is art, let me tell you, and must
for its own sake be, like the Rapanui
who quit their island but kept the promise
to leave their stones watching the seas.
I’m not here to remove life support
but to snap something vital; by knife,
the rope my body longs for, a bend
in the road I drive toward the end.
© Rethabile Masilo
Thirteen Ways of Looking At A Blackbird
Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.
[Read the other xii ways there...]
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.
[Read the other xii ways there...]
7 February 2009
Yusef Komunyakaa's "Believing in Iron"
The hills my brothers & I created
Never balanced, & it took years
To discover how the world worked.
We could look at a tree of blackbirds
& tell you how many were there,
But with the scrap dealer
Our math was always off.
Weeks of lifting & grunting
Never added up to much,
But we couldn't stop
Believing in iron.
[continue there...]
Never balanced, & it took years
To discover how the world worked.
We could look at a tree of blackbirds
& tell you how many were there,
But with the scrap dealer
Our math was always off.
Weeks of lifting & grunting
Never added up to much,
But we couldn't stop
Believing in iron.
[continue there...]
6 February 2009
Tsonga in Soweto
In a Soweto tennis centre paid for by Arthur Ashe, a smiling Jo-Wilfried Tsonga took time out this week to help coach children who dream of being South Africa's new generation of champions."I have African blood, so... I am happy to help sport in Africa and especially to improve the tennis," the Frenchman, top seed at the South African Open this week, told reporters at the centre.
"It was great what Arthur Ashe did and these sort of clinics are really important. This is the school of life and I am very happy to be able to help improve sport in Africa."
The charismatic world number 14, whose father Didier was born in the Democratic of Congo, looked to be thoroughly enjoying his time with the hordes of children at the clinic.
The youngsters broke into song to thank Tsonga, and doubles top seeds Jeff Coetzee and Wesley Moodie, both South Africans, who also helped out.
The Arthur Ashe Tennis Centre was built in 1976 with funds donated by the former world number one, the first black man to win the US Open and Wimbledon.
[continue there...]
Question for Black History Month: Tsonga was the subject of [a] private remark made by Carole Thatcher, presenter of the insert TV station name here television programme called The One Show, in February 2009. She referred to the tennis player as resembling a golliwog. Due to this Thatcher was suspended by the insert TV station name here.
[cheat... scroll down to The One Show]
Quote: Barack Obama
Focusing your life solely on making a buck shows a certain poverty of ambition. It asks too little of yourself. Because it's only when you hitch your wagon to something larger than yourself that you realize your true potential.
~Barack Obama
[source...]
~Barack Obama
[source...]
5 February 2009
Keeping a notebook
Keeping a notebook is a powerful tool for coping with difficult times. Langston Hughes often wrote in his journal when feeling bad, "in order to keep from feeling worse."
Question for black history month: In his poem, Ennui, Langston Hughes wrote that
It's such a
Bore
Being always
....
1. sure
2. poor
3. four
[find out here...]
[source...]
Question for black history month: In his poem, Ennui, Langston Hughes wrote that
It's such a
Bore
Being always
....
1. sure
2. poor
3. four
[find out here...]
Nikki Giovanni's "Resignation"
I love you
because the Earth turns round the sun
because the North wind blows north
sometimes
because the Pope is Catholic
and most Rabbis Jewish
because winters flow into spring
and the air clears after a storm
because only my love for you
despite the charms of gravity
keeps me from falling off the Earth
into another dimension.
[source...]
because the Earth turns round the sun
because the North wind blows north
sometimes
because the Pope is Catholic
and most Rabbis Jewish
because winters flow into spring
and the air clears after a storm
because only my love for you
despite the charms of gravity
keeps me from falling off the Earth
into another dimension.
[source...]
4 February 2009
Opal Palmer Adisa's "I name me name"
"I NAME ME NAME is a collection of autobiographical prose, dramatic monologue, lyric poem, praise song, blues and prophetic rant to enact the construction of an identity. At its centre is a Rastafarian sense of 'I'-ness, but its outer dimensions fully encompass an African Jamaican/American woman's radical consciousness of gender, race, geography, the spiritual and the sensual, the social, political and the historical as the co-ordinates of a dynamic space for dialogue and connection."Question for black history month: Dr. Opal Palmer Adisa is
[source...]
- Lesotho-born
- Jamaica-born
- USA-born
- Trinidad-born
- Cuba-born
Thanks be to Geoffrey for the goods.
Troy Davis. Remember him?
Dear Dean,
The state of Georgia seems determined to kill Troy Davis. But your thousands of calls, faxes and emails have sent a powerful message that such an injustice is totally unacceptable. Georgia officials need to keep hearing your voice: Ask Governor Perdue to stop the execution of Troy Davis.
You've heard the facts already:
Despite this mounting evidence in favor of Troy's freedom, he continues to wait on death row.
Watch and share the story of Troy Davis by forwarding this new video to friends, family and supporters of human rights.
We are anxiously awaiting the court's response to the latest round of arguments in Troy's case that could be handed down at any moment. So the fate of Troy Davis is still very much in limbo. We need you to continue rallying support by spreading this video of Troy's story any way that you can.
Each time you forward this video to a new person, you help build a stronger case for Troy and help tip the scale in favor of justice.
In Solidarity,
Sue Gunawardena-Vaughn
Director, Death Penalty Abolition Campaign
Amnesty International USA
Thanks, Sokari, for this heads up.
Thanks, Brian, for this info: The State of Texas argued before the nation’s highest court that it was OK to execute an innocent person, as long as he got a fair trial.
The state of Georgia seems determined to kill Troy Davis. But your thousands of calls, faxes and emails have sent a powerful message that such an injustice is totally unacceptable. Georgia officials need to keep hearing your voice: Ask Governor Perdue to stop the execution of Troy Davis.
You've heard the facts already:
- 7 of the 9 witnesses have recanted their testimonies
- No murder weapon nor any physical evidence has been found to link Troy to the crime
- One of the remaining two witnesses has even been implicated as the real killer
Despite this mounting evidence in favor of Troy's freedom, he continues to wait on death row.
Watch and share the story of Troy Davis by forwarding this new video to friends, family and supporters of human rights.
We are anxiously awaiting the court's response to the latest round of arguments in Troy's case that could be handed down at any moment. So the fate of Troy Davis is still very much in limbo. We need you to continue rallying support by spreading this video of Troy's story any way that you can.
Each time you forward this video to a new person, you help build a stronger case for Troy and help tip the scale in favor of justice.
In Solidarity,
Sue Gunawardena-Vaughn
Director, Death Penalty Abolition Campaign
Amnesty International USA
Thanks, Sokari, for this heads up.
Thanks, Brian, for this info: The State of Texas argued before the nation’s highest court that it was OK to execute an innocent person, as long as he got a fair trial.
Survival of the fittest
You have to get out there into the fields, get your nose right down into the grass — and you will still see exactly what Darwin saw.
~Randall Keynes, Charles Darwin's great-great grandson, on the nomination of the scientist's home as a World Heritage Site
[source...]
~Randall Keynes, Charles Darwin's great-great grandson, on the nomination of the scientist's home as a World Heritage Site
[source...]
3 February 2009
Elizabeth Alexander
ARS POETICA #100: I BELIEVE (by Elizabeth Alexander)
Poetry is what you find
in the dirt in the corner,
overhear on the bus, God
in the details, the only way
to get from here to there.
Poetry (and now my voice is rising)
is not all love, love, love,
and I’m sorry the dog died.
Poetry (here I hear myself loudest)
is the human voice,
and are we not of interest to each other?
© Elizabeth Alexander
Question for black history month: Where was Obama's inaugural poet, Elizabeth Alexander, born?
[Find out ...]
Poetry is what you find
in the dirt in the corner,
overhear on the bus, God
in the details, the only way
to get from here to there.
Poetry (and now my voice is rising)
is not all love, love, love,
and I’m sorry the dog died.
Poetry (here I hear myself loudest)
is the human voice,
and are we not of interest to each other?
© Elizabeth Alexander
Question for black history month: Where was Obama's inaugural poet, Elizabeth Alexander, born?
[Find out ...]
Protest Poems call for submissions
Subject: Call for poems
Call for poems
protestpoems.org has a new editor. That's me, Richard P-S. I have pasted below our projected publication dates for the first half of 2009. Please read the submission guidelines - they're important.
Submission guidelines
Simple.
We’re not looking for partisan propaganda. We’re not looking for party-political mouthings. We’re not looking for sentimental depictions of what you see on the TV. We’re not looking for rhyming greetings card verses.
We want you to champion, not yourselves, but human rights; the rights of those who don’t have the freedom to write and speak as we do. Rage. Celebrate. Mourn. Demand. Scream. Dance.
Formal complaints are especially exciting. There’s something wonderfully subversive about a villanelle that attacks a government deliberately making the same mistake over and over again.
If you need to be inspired, read the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Then check out any objective newsfeed or news site.
Paste your poems (a maximum of 3 one-page poems), into the body of an email and send to write(at)protestpoems.org. If necessary, you can email a single .doc or .rtf file containing all the poems you are submitting.
Include a brief bio.
We will accept poems previously published on paper, as long as you hold the copyright. We will not accept poems which are already (or have previously been) published online (including blogs). We will publish a poet only once a year.
If your poem deals with a specific call for action, or commemorates a specific person, please let us know.
Publication dates for the first half of 2009 are :
14 Feb
28 Feb
14 Mar
28 Mar
11 Apr
25 Apr
09 May
23 May
06 Jun
20 Jun
I'm really looking forward to reading your submissions, and want us to be able to publish high-quality, edgy material.
Hoping for peace in a violent world,
Call for poems
protestpoems.org has a new editor. That's me, Richard P-S. I have pasted below our projected publication dates for the first half of 2009. Please read the submission guidelines - they're important.
Submission guidelines
Simple.
We’re not looking for partisan propaganda. We’re not looking for party-political mouthings. We’re not looking for sentimental depictions of what you see on the TV. We’re not looking for rhyming greetings card verses.
We want you to champion, not yourselves, but human rights; the rights of those who don’t have the freedom to write and speak as we do. Rage. Celebrate. Mourn. Demand. Scream. Dance.
Formal complaints are especially exciting. There’s something wonderfully subversive about a villanelle that attacks a government deliberately making the same mistake over and over again.
If you need to be inspired, read the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Then check out any objective newsfeed or news site.
Paste your poems (a maximum of 3 one-page poems), into the body of an email and send to write(at)protestpoems.org. If necessary, you can email a single .doc or .rtf file containing all the poems you are submitting.
Include a brief bio.
We will accept poems previously published on paper, as long as you hold the copyright. We will not accept poems which are already (or have previously been) published online (including blogs). We will publish a poet only once a year.
If your poem deals with a specific call for action, or commemorates a specific person, please let us know.
Publication dates for the first half of 2009 are :
14 Feb
28 Feb
14 Mar
28 Mar
11 Apr
25 Apr
09 May
23 May
06 Jun
20 Jun
I'm really looking forward to reading your submissions, and want us to be able to publish high-quality, edgy material.
Hoping for peace in a violent world,
Robert Burns night
Burns penned hundreds of poems in his 37 years, and any of them can be read at a Burns Night. Only one, however, is obligatory, his classic To a Haggis, a tribute to our national dish. As the haggis is brought into the room, a guest reads the poem, taking care to stab the haggis at the appropriate moment and watch it gush out, in Burns words "warm, steaming, rich."
[continue there...]
[continue there...]
2 February 2009
George Augustus Polgreen Bridgetower
THE BRIDGETOWER (by Rita Dove)
per il Mulatto Brischdauer
gran pazzo e compositore mulattico
––Ludwig van Beethoven, 1803.
If was at the Beginning. If
he had been older, if he hadn’t been
dark, brown eyes ablaze
in that remarkable face;
if he had not been so gifted, so young
a genius with no time to grow up;
if he hadn’t grown up, undistinguished,
to an obscure old age.
If the piece had actually been,
as Kreutzer exclaimed, unplayable––even after
our man had played it, and for years,
no one else was able to follow––
so that the composer’s fury would have raged
for naught, and wagging tongues
could keep alive the original dedication
from the title page he shredded.
Oh, if only Ludwig had been better-looking,
or cleaner, or a real aristocrat,
von instead of the unexceptional van
from some Dutch farmer; if his ears
had not already begun to squeal and whistle;
if he hadn’t drunk his wine from lead cups,
if he could have found True Love. Then
the story would have held: In 1803
George Polgreen Bridgetower,
son of Friedrich Augustus the African Prince
and Maria Anna Sovinki of Biala in Poland,
travelled from London to Vienna,
where he met the Great Master,
who would stop work on his Third Symphony
to write a sonata for his new friend
to première triumphantly on May 24th,
whereupon the composer himself
leapt up from the piano to embrace
his “lunatic mulatto.”
Who knows what would have followed?
They might have palled around some,
just a couple of wild and crazy guys
strutting the town like rock stars,
hitting the bars for a few beers, a few laughs . . .
instead of falling out over a girl
nobody remembers, nobody knows.
Then this bright-skinned papa’s boy
could have sailed his fifteen-minute fame
straight into the record books––where,
instead of a Regina Carter or Aaron Dworkin or Boyd Tinsley
sprinkled here and there, we would find
rafts of black kids scratching out scales
on their matchbox violins so that someday
they might play the impossible:
Beethoven’s Sonata No. 9 in A Major, Op. 47,
also known as the “Bridgetower.”
© Rita Dove
[source...]
Question for black history month: who was George Augustus Polgreen Bridgetower?
[Find out here...Scroll down if you don't like gardening]
per il Mulatto Brischdauer
gran pazzo e compositore mulattico
––Ludwig van Beethoven, 1803.
If was at the Beginning. If
he had been older, if he hadn’t been
dark, brown eyes ablaze
in that remarkable face;
if he had not been so gifted, so young
a genius with no time to grow up;
if he hadn’t grown up, undistinguished,
to an obscure old age.
If the piece had actually been,
as Kreutzer exclaimed, unplayable––even after
our man had played it, and for years,
no one else was able to follow––
so that the composer’s fury would have raged
for naught, and wagging tongues
could keep alive the original dedication
from the title page he shredded.
Oh, if only Ludwig had been better-looking,
or cleaner, or a real aristocrat,
von instead of the unexceptional van
from some Dutch farmer; if his ears
had not already begun to squeal and whistle;
if he hadn’t drunk his wine from lead cups,
if he could have found True Love. Then
the story would have held: In 1803
George Polgreen Bridgetower,
son of Friedrich Augustus the African Prince
and Maria Anna Sovinki of Biala in Poland,
travelled from London to Vienna,
where he met the Great Master,
who would stop work on his Third Symphony
to write a sonata for his new friend
to première triumphantly on May 24th,
whereupon the composer himself
leapt up from the piano to embrace
his “lunatic mulatto.”
Who knows what would have followed?
They might have palled around some,
just a couple of wild and crazy guys
strutting the town like rock stars,
hitting the bars for a few beers, a few laughs . . .
instead of falling out over a girl
nobody remembers, nobody knows.
Then this bright-skinned papa’s boy
could have sailed his fifteen-minute fame
straight into the record books––where,
instead of a Regina Carter or Aaron Dworkin or Boyd Tinsley
sprinkled here and there, we would find
rafts of black kids scratching out scales
on their matchbox violins so that someday
they might play the impossible:
Beethoven’s Sonata No. 9 in A Major, Op. 47,
also known as the “Bridgetower.”
© Rita Dove
[source...]
Question for black history month: who was George Augustus Polgreen Bridgetower?
[Find out here...Scroll down if you don't like gardening]
Poet!K Flavour
Poet!K Flavour is a blog for upcoming African poets to share their work with the world. The blog features poems on Africa, life, nature, friendship, Love,animals...and everything that people care about. This year, the best poems featured on this blog will be compiled and published in a single poetry book whose proceeds shall be donated to charity within Africa. This is a project for charity, get involved, join as a poet, tell friends, post comments, follow this blog,…take a step to solving the problems in your society….if you believe that Africa is not as it should be, join me. The journey begins here!
To join as a poet and obtain blogging rights, contact the blog owner Imran Nakueira, be sure to send two sample poems and an Email Adress.
Being a charity project, poets will not be paid for any of their works published in the final edited collection. Poets with works appearing will however be credited for their work and, of course, receive at least one copy of the final publication. No poems will be reprinted without the permission of the poet. More info about the final publication will be layed out at the appropriate time. Thank you.
[source...]
To join as a poet and obtain blogging rights, contact the blog owner Imran Nakueira, be sure to send two sample poems and an Email Adress.
Being a charity project, poets will not be paid for any of their works published in the final edited collection. Poets with works appearing will however be credited for their work and, of course, receive at least one copy of the final publication. No poems will be reprinted without the permission of the poet. More info about the final publication will be layed out at the appropriate time. Thank you.
[source...]
All about Africa
The continent of Africa is the second-most populated in the world and has 53 countries within its bounds. With so many people and nationalities, it should be no surprise that the diversity found there is enormous. While poverty and war are a part of Africa, so is technology, bustling cities, and unique culture found nowhere else on Earth. These blogs bring together the richness and diversity that is Africa with voices covering specific countries, experiences across the borders, news, technology, art, and culture.
All About Africa
These blogs provide a glimpse into politics, human rights, technology, cool gadgets made specifically for Africa and more as the bloggers span across the continent.
[continue there...]
All About Africa
These blogs provide a glimpse into politics, human rights, technology, cool gadgets made specifically for Africa and more as the bloggers span across the continent.
[continue there...]
1 February 2009
Rita Dove's forthcoming collection!
Rita Dove, a former Poet Laureate of the United States, winner of the 1987 Pulitzer Prize in Poetry, recipient of the coveted Common Wealth Award of Distinguished Service in 2006, and a Chancellor of the Academy of American Poets, has confirmed that she will be contributing a selection of new poetry (taken from her forthcoming collection, "Sonata Mulattica," to be published in April, 2009) to Issue 6 of Interlitq.
[source...]
Ed's note: "can't wait."
[source...]
Ed's note: "can't wait."
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