1. Your limbs buried in northern muscle carry their own heartbeat…
Sonia Sanchez (born Wilsonia Benita Driver; September 9, 1934) is an African-American poet most often associated with the Black Arts Movement. She has authored over a dozen books of poetry, as well as short stories, critical essays, plays, and children's books. She was a recipient of 1993 Pew Fellowships in the Arts. In 2001, Sanchez was the recipient of the Robert Frost Medal for her poetry (one of the highest honors awarded to a nationally recognized poet) and has been influential to other African-American female poets, including Krista Franklin. Sanchez was born in Birmingham, Alabama, on September 9, 1934. Her mother died when Sanchez was only two years old, so she spent several years being shuttled back and forth among relatives. One of those was her grandmother, who died when Sanchez was six. In 1943, she moved to Harlem to live with her father, her sister, and her stepmother, who was her father's third wife. In 1955, Sanchez received a B.A. in Political Science from Hunter College, where she had also taken several creative writing courses. Later, she completed postgraduate work at New York University, where she studied poetry with Louise Bogan. Although her first marriage to Albert Sanchez did not last, Sonia Sanchez would retain her professional name. She did not have children with Albert but with her second husband Etheridge Knight. So together, they had three children: a daughter, Anita, and twin sons, Moran Neuse and Mungu Neuse. Motherhood heavily influenced the motifs of her poetry in the '70s, the bond between mother and child emerging as a key theme. Sanchez and Knight later divorced. In 1972, she joined the Nation of Islam, but left the organization after three years in 1975 because her views on women's rights conflicted with theirs. She also has three grandchildren.)
Sonia Sanchez şiirleri
(after reading a New York Times article re a mummy kept preserved for about 300 years) I'm gonna get me some mummy tape for your love…
Our vision is our voice we cut through the country where madmen goosestep in tune to Guernica.…
With exact wings Your words sailed back into your throat. Could not fly forward.…
(after the spanish) forgive me if i laugh…
In the night in my half hour negro dreams i hear voices knocking at the door…
I have gone into my eyes bumping against sockets that sing smelling the evening from under the sun where waterless bones move…
nothing will keep us young you know not young men or women who spin…
I've been a woman with my legs stretched by the wind rushing the day thinking i heard your voice…
This woman vomiting her hunger over the world this melancholy woman forgotten before memory came…
i kneel down like a collector of jewels before you. i am singing one long necklace of love my…
high/yellow/black/girl walken like the sun u be. move on even higher. those who…
once i lived on pillars in a green house boarded by lilacs that rocked voices into weeds. i bled an owl's blood shredding the grass until i…