"...the best words in the best order." - Samuel Taylor Coleridge

When making these poems I was thinking of the way things looked, sounded, smelled, felt to me. I know that I wanted to show off that way things are seen form one persons at different stages in ones life. I showed that way my childhood self say a tragic memory like 9/11 with my memory poem that I named “Skies.” In “Skies” I show that way a child sees the news broadcast by saying “Woman with a voice / And a story / Frames that are still / A small bird in the sky /Mushrooms of smoke.” This was how I saw the event. By using the metaphors of the plane being a bird helps put things into perspective.

In my poems I so like to use the five scenes. I like to set a back group by saying things like “Soap opera in the background / Smile warming the whole house” in my I was raised by poem. To show that there is ways something going even if its not the main point of the story it makes it more real. No one has a conversation with the world standing still.

In my poems show the way things are with my family. For example in my “Raised By…” poem. I say “No trust in the common scene they gave you.” this was my way of talking about the way girls are treating in my family. Like if you don’t ask everyday and constantly talk about things they don’t want to here. It will stop then form having sex or doing something you don’t like.

Memory Poem:

Childs eyes in yellow skies
Mothers ears filled with panic and fare
A brownie face with flower on time
Eyes like lotuses in bloom

"Shoes stay down stairs."
Child eyes squinted to math the light
A box of light cover the corners of the room

Woman with a voice
And a story
Frames that are still
Then small bird in the sky
Mushrooms of smoke

Buildings of lego's going down
messing bird and
worried face

Ode to headphones:

Ode to the two things that’s always there
That send love, hate, anger to my ears

Ode to their look
The beauty hidden by beauty
Their night sky color that hides in a chocolate cave
Starry night rims that show out to the world
The Milky Way wall in between the night sky

Ode to their powers
The magic raindrops
That send sound to the heart
The drums that make the beat form the eardrums
Tap, hit, bang on them

Ode to the whip
That grabs on
That ties around the music
That ballroom dances with the music
Holding tight
Bringing it in
Holds it there and whines its all round

Ode to moments
The heart throbbing
Salt water in my eyes
Flowers growing for paint
Moments that they are always there for

Ode to the only thing
That sees all of the storms
And stays away

Found Poem:

Brit Brat, Mar Mar
I am going to buy her a molded tree
Just keep it in confidences
Read it from right here
Where is my?

I have to clean all of these
I am not smart today
Pretty boys don’t cry
Now your thinking


Raised By...

I was raised by
Constant question asking
No trust in the common scene they gave you
Watches to much crime tv
Gets worked up over nothing
Mad when you come home two seconds late
“I will test you, don’t act like I wont”
Kind of Women

Short haired
Always straight styled
“Go get your hair blown out”
Sorta Women
Some brownie making
Dark skinned and proud to be so
Soap Opera in the background
Smile warming the whole house
“Let that baby eat”
Bad habit making
Type of Women

Some Pepsi drinking
Only wear a bra when going out
Never got married
Had babies to young
“You better watch these little boys”
Type of Sisters
Some turn that down
Television on all day
“Why you so close to that tv?”
Sit down and don’t touch anything
Kind of woman

I was raised by
Some you can do anything
Just wait on it and it will happen
“Let your conations be your guide”
All that glitters is gold
A is all you need
If your pretty you can get anything you want
Kind of programs

Some things may not work out
Bad people win
If you are pretty you end up in a whole in the ground
A big girl can get what she wants to
Everything you learned may be wrong
The more of me you have the better your world is
Types of Books


Line form e.e. cummings

Since feeling is first
Then where does everything else fall
Feeling touch
Hands feet arms legs
The biggest organ
The easiest to hurt
To take out everything on
To make pale with tears all the salt water runs the color away
To break by drawing a blade over it
Let out the hurt
Let in the beauty
The best storyteller
Taking everything and holding it in
The cuts the pain
The kisses the pleaser
A lovers touch a cats anger
A sharp pain form banging your tie when you where late
Or the scar on your head form where you where eight
Since felling is first
Then does it matter where everything else falls?

The Cinnabon Story

I have eaten
The cinnabon
That was
in the microwave

and I know
you wanted
its sweat savory

Forgive my belly
It was there
And I was hungry

Lucille Clifton is a great poet. She was a woman who studied her history and knows where she came from. And with this knowledge came a lot of themes for her writing. And even though she was not a great student she love poetry. In the poems that I have read she writes a lot about her expectants and the way other things tie into it. In the poem “memory” she talks about her first time getting shoes. And how her “mother’s face / turned to water under the white words / of the man at the shoe store.” This shows how she had to face diversity. And that even when something so small has happened it can be something that is worth the time to talk about. Even though in her poem she talks about the fact that here mother will not talk about that time buying shoes and being discriminated against. And even with that calm she still feels hurt for her mother.

In many of the other poems that I have read she uses repetition, usually of a phrase. For example in her poem “Homage to My Hips” she uses the phrase “these hips” through out the poem. This helps you focus on what the subject is. And It is also I really nice break form some of the metaphor that she uses. Like “these hips are magic hips. / i have known them to put a spell on a man and / spin him like a top.” I love this line. To say that they are magic of all words when she could have said they where sexy. This also shows here great use of word pay. But the repetition lets you what to focus on no what else she throws into it.

Ms. Clifton also goes for a shock in some of her poems. This change or shock makes, at least for me, the poem more real. In moonchild she says “jay johnson is teaching / me to french kiss, elle bragged, who / is teaching you? how do you say; my father?” This makes you thing of relationships and if she sees things as if there is always something more going on then what you see. What if there is more between the father and this girl? What if the girl is a young Lucille? This you have to think about. Something else here poems make you do is really think about what she wants to things to mean.

She also takes a twist with your titles and capital letters. In “won’t you celebrate with me.” there are these two lines that where really stand out “both non white and woman / come celebrate with me that everyday something has tried to kill me and has failed.” Its like she writes a lot of her poems in a time that is really prejudices. And she wants to make a statement about it. With in her poems there is no use, for the ones I have read, of capital letters. “I” nor the tittles are capitalized. This is something that most poets don’t do