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Three poems by Lucille Clifton

Longtime Poet Laureate of Maryland is often compared to Emily Dickinson

Moonchild

whatever slid into my mother’s room that 

late june night, tapping her great belly, 

summoned me out roundheaded and unsmiling. 

is this the moon, my father used to grin. 

cradling me? it was the moon 

but nobody knew it then. 

the moon understands dark places. 

the moon has secrets of her own. 

she holds what light she can. 

we girls were ten years old and giggling 

in our hand-me-downs. we wanted breasts, 

pretended that we had them, tissued 

our undershirts. jay johnson is teaching 

me to french kiss, ella bragged, who 

is teaching you? how do you say; my father? 

the moon is queen of everything. 

she rules the oceans, rivers, rain. 

when I am asked whose tears these are 

I always blame the moon.


Cutting Greens

curling them around 

i hold their bodies in obscene embrace 

thinking of everything but kinship. 

collards and kale 

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strain against each strange other 

away from my kissmaking hand and 

the iron bedpot. 

the pot is black. 

the cutting board is black, 

my hand, 

and just for a minute 

the greens roll black under the knife, 

and the kitchen twists dark on its spine 

and i taste in my natural appetite 

the bond of live things everywhere.


Lorena

it lay in my palm soft and trembled 

as a new bird and i thought about 

authority and how it always insisted 

on itself, how it was master 

of the man, how it measured him, never 

was ignored or denied, and how it promised 

there would be sweetness if it was obeyed 

just like the saints do, like the angels 

and i opened the window and held out my 

uncupped hand; i swear to god 

i thought it could fly

Lucille Clifton

Lucille Clifton (1936-2010) was an American poet, and the Poet Laureate of Maryland from 1979 to 1985. She twice placed as a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for poetry. Because of her poems’ brevity and clever use of rhyme, Clifton is often compared to Emily Dickinson. Her poetry is also distinguished by a lack of capitalization and short, clipped lines, which reflect a desire to pare down her experiences, as reflected in the verse, to the barest of essentials. Clifton’s poems often focus on race relations and the cultural experiences of blacks in American society.

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Moonchild

whatever slid into my mother’s room that 

late june night, tapping her great belly, 

summoned me out roundheaded and unsmiling. 

is this the moon, my father used to grin. 

cradling me? it was the moon 

but nobody knew it then. 

the moon understands dark places. 

the moon has secrets of her own. 

she holds what light she can. 

we girls were ten years old and giggling 

in our hand-me-downs. we wanted breasts, 

pretended that we had them, tissued 

our undershirts. jay johnson is teaching 

me to french kiss, ella bragged, who 

is teaching you? how do you say; my father? 

the moon is queen of everything. 

she rules the oceans, rivers, rain. 

when I am asked whose tears these are 

I always blame the moon.


Cutting Greens

curling them around 

i hold their bodies in obscene embrace 

thinking of everything but kinship. 

collards and kale 

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Sponsored

strain against each strange other 

away from my kissmaking hand and 

the iron bedpot. 

the pot is black. 

the cutting board is black, 

my hand, 

and just for a minute 

the greens roll black under the knife, 

and the kitchen twists dark on its spine 

and i taste in my natural appetite 

the bond of live things everywhere.


Lorena

it lay in my palm soft and trembled 

as a new bird and i thought about 

authority and how it always insisted 

on itself, how it was master 

of the man, how it measured him, never 

was ignored or denied, and how it promised 

there would be sweetness if it was obeyed 

just like the saints do, like the angels 

and i opened the window and held out my 

uncupped hand; i swear to god 

i thought it could fly

Lucille Clifton

Lucille Clifton (1936-2010) was an American poet, and the Poet Laureate of Maryland from 1979 to 1985. She twice placed as a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for poetry. Because of her poems’ brevity and clever use of rhyme, Clifton is often compared to Emily Dickinson. Her poetry is also distinguished by a lack of capitalization and short, clipped lines, which reflect a desire to pare down her experiences, as reflected in the verse, to the barest of essentials. Clifton’s poems often focus on race relations and the cultural experiences of blacks in American society.

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