Female Poetry Project

Poetry Responses:

Biography:

Wanda Coleman (birth name, Wanda Evans) is an African American poet. She was born on November 13, 1946 in Los Angeles, CA. She passed away in November 22, 2013. Throughout her lifetime, she worked as a medical secretary, magazine editor, journalist, and Emmy Award-winning script writer before she decided to turn to poetry. Anger, unhappiness, and violence are often her essential themes in her stories and poetry. Coleman began her poetry at the age of 5. She published her first few poems in a local newspaper at age 13. Coleman attended several colleges and did not receive a degree, but she taught and constructed workshops at a university level. Many of her poems have been translated to Spanish, French, German, and Hungarian. Coleman’s talent has brought attention to many readers. Besides poetry, Coleman enjoyed, music, visual arts and a passion for theater and public speaking.

Poem 1: Bedtime Story

bed calls. i sit in the dark in the living room
trying to ignore them

in the morning, especially Sunday mornings
it will not let me up. you must sleep
longer, it says

facing south
the bed makes me lay heavenward on my back
while i prefer a westerly fetal position
facing the wall

the bed sucks me sideways into it when i  
sit down on it to put on my shoes. this
persistence on its part forces me to dress in
the bathroom where things are less subversive

the bed lumps up in anger springs popping out to
scratch my dusky thighs

my little office sits in the alcove adjacent to
the bed. it makes strange little sighs
which distract me from my work
sadistically i pull back the covers
put my typewriter on the sheet and turn it on

the bed complains that i’m difficult duty
its slats are collapsing. it bitches when i
blanket it with books and papers. it tells me
it’s made for blood and bone

lately spiders ants and roaches
have invaded it searching for food


Response to Poem 1: Wanda Coleman’s poem, Bedtime Story, is written about her bed and her moments with it. She describes the bed and refers to it with personification. Coleman’s personification provides us with a sense of understanding. It allows us to make more in dept connections between Coleman and her bed. What makes the poem more interesting is that the poet describes to us her only having a negative relationship with it. She talks about how the her bed never wants her to leave, and how it causes her to always be consumed by it’s wanting. The fact that we can relate to Bedtime Story as we know that a bed does have a strong force when someone is tired and needs to rest. Coleman’s choice of word usage is powerful as she constructs her poem. I found the format of her poem interesting, the way she had all of her “i”s lowercase, periods in a non sequential order, and the first letter after a period being lowercase. I feel that this format changes the way the audience reads the poem. The way it was constructed personally made me reader it in a softer but more stern tone. Bedtime Story really shows how powerful word, word usage, and formatting in poetry can be.

Poem 2: February 11th 1990

Response to Poem 2: Coleman writes February 11th 1990 on behalf of Dennis Brutus, a South African activist, poet, and refugee at the time living in America, no longer being banned from South Africa. Brutus was banned from teaching, writing, speaking in public, and attending social or political messages under the Suppression of Communism Act. All of his work was banned in South Africa, some of his writings made it past the South African sensors as he wrote under John Bruin. What I took away from the poem was that, as it’s a new year. The leaves change colors, becoming a symbol of freedom. She recognizes Brutus’ band being lifted as she related it to a prison door opening. Behind the door is a nation accepting him and the work that he’d done. She states this as she says that a nation’s heart is released. Wanda Coleman makes specific and strong connection that relate context to each other, still containing the message behind them. Coleman bases her entire poem off of another poet who went through something that affected his entire life, occupation, financial situation, what he enjoyed, and many more. She wrote a real uplifting poem based off of a real situation that didn’t begin well.

 

Poem 3: Dear Mama (4)

when did we become friends?
it happened so gradual i didn’t notice
maybe i had to get my run out first
take a big bite of the honky world and choke on it
maybe that’s what has to happen with some uppity youngsters
if it happens at all

and now
the thought stark and irrevocable
of being here without you
shakes me

beyond love, fear, regret or anger
into that realm children go
who want to care for/protect their parents
as if they could
and sometimes the lucky ones do

into the realm of making every moment
important
laughing as though laughter wards off death
each word given
received like spanish eight

treasure to bury within
against that shadow day
when it will be the only coin i possess
with which to buy peace of mind

Response to Poem 3:

The relationship between a mother and the poet. She starts out by talking about how their friendship began immediately, without recognition. How she thinks that it began once she went into the world alone and failed causing her to turn to her mom for guidance. She soon realizes that she made a severe mistake that cannot be altered and the thought of not having her mom around scares her. As children who want to only take care of their parents get older, they start to gear off and have more emotion such as love, fear, regret, or anger. Making their decisions and choosing how they used their time. Advice given to them is no longer listened to. She ends with talking about how she’d only want a piece of mind. This is how I annotated the poem. I felt that this poem was a bit difficult to comprehend but some parts came together for the reader to understand. I like how you it makes you use common sense and thinking about the real word to make connections throughout the poem. It’s how you understand it. Coleman’s writing format remains the same, with her lowercase “I”s and letters after the period, as well as periods in a non sequential order, the ending mark is not always present.

Poem 4: In That Other Fantasy Where We Live Forever

we were never caught

we partied the southwest, smoked it from L.A. to El Dorado
worked odd jobs between delusions of escape
drunk on the admonitions of parents, parsons & professors
driving faster than the road or law allowed.
our high-pitched laughter was young, heartless & disrespected
authority. we could be heard for miles in the night

the Grand Canyon of a new manhood.
womanhood discovered
like the first sighting of Mount Wilson

we rebelled against the southwestern wind

we got so naturally ripped, we sprouted wings,
crashed parties on the moon, and howled at the earth

we lived off love. It was all we had to eat

Response to Poem 4: Wanda Coleman tells memories of herself and another, together at the time when they were still in school. I know they were in school at this time because Coleman talks about professors. Her memories are about when they partied, smoked, worked odd jobs, not listening to the warnings of adults, speeding, laughing, young, and not having a care in the world. Then Coleman says that they both find woman and manhood, meaning they mature and are growing up. She then begins using references that are not humanly possible to describe how freely they were living. She ends with saying that love was all that had. Coleman continues to keep her writing style throughout the poem, her lines don’t end on the end of a sentence. She continues her sentence throughout the line. This poem, to me, provides a sense of nostalgia, as they are both coming of age throughout the poem. I think the part I had the most trouble with was the line about rebelling against the Southwestern wind. I didn’t understand how that line fit into the poem or why she rebelled against it. Maybe it is simply because of her coming of age, maybe she’s talking about going against the area itself? I’m not sure but she also talked about the Southwest in the beginning, saying that that’s where they smoked. We know she either lived or often visited the Southwest.

Poem 5: American Sonnet (10)

after Lowell

our mothers wrung hell and hardtack from row
     and boll. fenced others’
gardens with bones of lovers. embarking
     from Africa in chains
reluctant pilgrims stolen by Jehovah’s light
     planted here the bitter
seed of blight and here eternal torches mark  
     the shame of Moloch’s mansions
built in slavery’s name. our hungered eyes
     do see/refuse the dark
illuminate the blood-soaked steps of each  
     historic gain. a yearning
yearning to avenge the raping of the womb
     from which we spring

Response to Poem 5: From the poem, I took away that Coleman is talking about the past, what her mother had been through. What had shaped her into who she was. Her mother having the background she did, gave her specific habits and a unique personality. Coleman talks about having to work hard, leaving Africa in chains, pilgrims following Jehovah’s light, the mansions showing only shame as they were built during the time of slavery, they were hungry, then what once took the most work to make a difference is looked on through each historic gain made. Wanting the avenge those who were rapped? But then she says, that’s the way they were brought out into the world. This poem shows and tells us how far we’ve come. It lets you picture the tragedies and issues in the world that led us to the lives we have today. I find it interesting how Coleman tells us about this and lets us know as she also provides examples. I had to look up a few things to understand, this is what I looked up: hardtack (hard dry bread or biscuit, especially as rations for sailors.) and boll (the rounded seed capsule of plants such as cotton or flax.). She used these words to describe what her mother used to do.

Conclusion: I’ve repeated this throughout my responses but Wanda Coleman does indeed have a strong and unique writing style. Throughout each of her poems there are common writing formats. Coleman never capitalizes her “i”s, or the first letter in the first word after the period. She also never places periods on the last sentence at the end of a stanza. She places them in non common places. Wanda Coleman is a strong poet and you can see the common themes of anger, unhappiness, and violence. The best thing about her writing is that her poems are never over confident with her essential themes, she always has a strong and powerful message behind each poem. Coleman does not write just to write, she writes to make the blurry clear, the over viewed obvious, etc. Wanda Coleman speaks the truth and she uses personal connections to make her poems even stronger. These connections allow us to view and understand her poetry on a deeper level. It helps us to be able to see what Coleman is talking about, and be able to relate to it all. I don’t that Coleman’s poems had a connection length wise, because she wrote both long and short poems. There was no strong correlation in length, between them all.

Mimic of Bedtime:

phone calls. i attempt to finish my homework

trying to ignore them

 

after school, on weekdays

it distracts me. you mustn’t finish,

it’s a waste of time, it says

 

on the desk

the phone makes me type and type

i know i should be working but it

won’t let me

 

the phone sucks me into its screen

when i think of my work. i leave

to the kitchen, from the hypnotizing phone

 

it begins to buzz violently,

yelling for me to come back

 

my work sits on my bed and i go

to it. it starts making loud

noises to distract me. i set my

work right next to to give it some

comfort, maybe it’ll stop

 

the phone is upset,

yells at me when i pay no close

attention to it. i try to rarely even

give it a small glance

 

Lately I’ve just given up on

fighting it. the phone has a strength

i believed i was strong enough to fight

maybe one day.

 

Epigram:

We lived off love.

We were young, we didn’t want to grow up.

We didn’t question anything you told us, we trusted you.

We never worried about where our next meal was coming from.

We never worried about not having a roof over our heads.

We lived with what we had.

We didn’t ask for more, nor less.

We knew it could all be gone at the snap of two fingers.

We know you had our backs, we never felt fear.

We lived off you.

We lived off love.

 

Quotes:

“usta be young usta be gifted – still black.”

“we got so naturally ripped, we sprouted wings, crashed parties on the moon, and howled at the earth(,) we lived off love. It was all we had to eat(.)”

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