I am inside someone who hates me. I look out from his eyes. Smell what fouled tunes come in…
Amiri Baraka (born Everett LeRoi Jones; October 7, 1934 – January 9, 2014), formerly known as LeRoi Jones and Imamu Amear Baraka, was an African-American writer of poetry, drama, fiction, essays and music criticism. He was the author of numerous books of poetry and taught at a number of universities, including the State University of New York at Buffalo and the State University of New York at Stony Brook. He received the PEN Open Book Award, formerly known as the Beyond Margins Award, in 2008 for Tales of the Out and the Gone. Baraka's career spanned nearly 50 years, and his themes range from black liberation to white racism. Some poems that are always associated with his name are "The Music: Reflection on Jazz and Blues", "The Book of Monk", and "New Music, New Poetry", works that draw on topics from the worlds of society, music, and literature. Baraka's poetry and writing have attracted both extreme praise and condemnation. Within the African-American community, some compare Baraka to James Baldwin and recognize him as one of the most respected and most widely published black writers of his generation. Others have said his work is an expression of violence, misogyny, homophobia and racism. Regardless of viewpoint, Baraka's plays, poetry, and essays have been defining texts for African-American culture. Baraka's brief tenure as Poet Laureate of New Jersey (2002–03) involved controversy over a public reading of his poem "Somebody Blew Up America?", accusations of anti-semitism, and some negative attention from critics, and politicians.)
Amiri Baraka şiirleri
He had got, finally, to the forest of motives. There were no owls, or hunters. No Connie Chatterleys…
It cannot come except you make it from materials it is not…
He came back and shot. He shot him. When he came back, he shot, and he fell, stumbling, past the shadow wood, down, shot, dying, dead, to full halt.…
Who has ever stopped to think of the divinity of Lamont Cranston? (Only jack Kerouac, that I know of: & me. The rest of you probably had on WCBS and Kate Smith, Or something equall…
'A closed window looks down on a dirty courtyard, and Black people call across or scream across or walk across defying physics in the stream of their will.…
In the south, sleeping against the drugstore, growling under the trucks and stoves, stumbling through and over the cluttered eyes…
She stands beside me, stands away, the vague indifference of her dreams. Dreaming, to go on, and go on there, like animals fleeing…
I can pray all day & God wont come.…
African blues does not know me. Their steps, in sands of their own land. A country…
Lately, I've become accustomed to the way The ground opens up and envelopes me Each time I go out to walk the dog. Or the broad edged silly music the wind…
Where ever something breathes Heart beating the rise and fall Of mountains, the waves upon the sky Of seas, the terror is our ignorance, that's…
WHYS (Nobody Knows The Trouble I Seen) Traditional…