Nikki Giovanni

I was incredibly excited to learn that Nikki Giovanni, the poet, will be here on Wednesday. We just read a poem of hers in class, and my professor said, "She's really good. I've heard her read several times." She also explained that she was the writing professor of the boy who did the shootings at Virginia Tech. I guess, she was on TV a lot for that. She was a big Civil Rights poet and has tremendous respect in the writing community. I couldn't figure out where I had heard of her, and today I figured out it was in a Kanye West song. I'm listening to it right now. It's the song about his Mom called, "Hey Mama." He says, "You're like a book of poetry/ Mya Angelou/Nikki Giovanni/turn the one page and there's my Mommy." I hadn't listened to the song in a long time, and out of nowhere it hit me that was the reason I knew her name. I just ordered a small book of her recent poems on-line. I heard her old poems from the 60's are pretty racy. I thought about getting those, but just in case she is willing to sign books I wanted to have the latest one. Not to mention, there is a lot more references that I know. I hope it comes before Wednesday. I would have got the two-day shipping, but it cost twice as much as the actual book, so I just got the regular and decided to cross my fingers. It's going to be a big crowd, because she appeals to so many different people. I don't even know if she will sign books, but I want to have one just in case. I am copying a few of her poems to give you an idea of her style. The first one is the one we looked at in class:

Legacies

her grandmother called her from the playground
"yes, ma'am"
"i want chu to learn how to make rolls" said the old
woman proudly
but the little girl didn't want
to learn how because she knew
even if she couldn't say it that
that would mean when the old one died she would be less
dependent on her spirit so
she said
"i don't want to know how to make no rolls"
with her lips poked out
and the old woman wiped her hands on
her apron saying "lord
these children"
and neither of them ever
said what they meant
and i guess nobody ever does

************************************

I Wrote A Good Omelet



I wrote a good omelet...and ate a hot poem...
after loving you

Buttoned my car...and drove my coat home...in the
rain...
after loving you

I goed on red...and stopped on green....floating
somewhere in between...
being here and being there...
after loving you

I rolled my bed...turned down my hair...slightly
confused but...I don't care...
Laid out my teeth...and gargled my gown...then I stood
...and laid me down...
to sleep...
after loving you
*****************************************

Alone


i can be
alone by myself
i was
lonely alone
now i'm lonely
with you
something is wrong
there are flies
everywhere
i go
*********************************
For Saundra


i wanted to write
a poem
that rhymes
but revolution doesn't lend
itself to be-bopping

then my neighbor
who thinks i hate
asked – do you ever write
tree poems – i like trees
so i thought
i'll write a beautiful green tree poem
peeked from my window
to check the image
noticed that the school yard was covered
with asphalt
no green – no trees grow
in manhattan

then, well, i thought the sky
i'll do a big blue sky poem
but all the clouds have winged
low since no-Dick was elected

so i thought again
and it occurred to me
maybe i shouldn't write
at all
but clean my gun
and check my kerosene supply

perhaps these are not poetic
times
at all