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Showing posts with label gwendolyn brooks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gwendolyn brooks. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 12, 2019

A Little Word Art

I am feeling kind of wiped out today so there'll be no non-stop rambling and bitching. It's too hot out to rant. It's been so freaking warm and sunny here that I might have to get a darker shade of foundation... Anyway, I just wanted to share some poetry with you. I mentioned both poets in a previously written post (that might or might not have published yet. You know how I do.)

First up, something lovely by Nikki Giovanni (the flow reminds me of my nieces jumping Double Dutch). Next up, Gwendolyn Brooks will take over. Her piece makes me think of jazz music. By the way, I read somewhere a while back that they share(d) a birthday though Ms. Brooks is no longer alive. May she be resting in peace.

Now some word art for your ears.


And I Have You (by Nikki Giovanni)

Rain has drops
Sun has shine
Moon has beams
That make you mine

Rivers have banks
Sands for shores
Hearts have heartbeats
That make me yours

Needles have eyes
Though pins may prick
Elmer has glue
To make things stick

Winter has Spring
Stockings feet
Pepper has mint
To make it sweet

Teachers have lessons
Soup du jour
Lawyers sue bad folks
Doctors cure

All and all
This much is true
You have me
And I have you



We Real Cool (by Gwendolyn Brooks) 

               The Pool Players.
        Seven at the Golden Shovel.

            We real cool. We   
            Left school. We

            Lurk late. We
            Strike straight. We

            Sing sin. We   
            Thin gin. We

            Jazz June. We   
            Die soon.

(And, the line does read "thin gin" - not "think".)

Everyone have a beautiful day and enjoy your blessings.

Peace
--Free

I thought this was pretty. Sad but pretty.

Monday, June 10, 2019

Language is Awesome

(Note: today is a little blurry for me. I will make this post as coherent as I can.)

I was watching that show "Beyond Scared Straight" the other night and I'm ashamed to say that I found way too much humor in some of the episodes. One of the parents made a remark that was so funny I had to pause the show to call my girlfriend. First, I had to finish laughing.

First I have to tell you that back in the day, one of my mother's admonishments was "Your mouth's going to write a check your ass can't cash." Well, a parent on that show topped it. When her fast ass daughter was acting out, she told her that her alligator mouth was going to override her hummingbird ass. Man, that is freaking awesome. I'm saving that up for the next time I get to chastise a child.

In a recent post when I was discussing my potty mouth, I didn't get into how much I love the poetry of slang. I wonder if a lot of the popularity of pop music isn't more about the words than the beat. The first time I heard the phrases  "turn up" ( or "turnt" up) and "turn down", I knew they were going to be favorites. I heard "turn down" in a song by DJ Snake and Lil Jon. I'm not a huge Lil Jon fan and I still have no idea who DJ Snake is, but every now and then, I'll hear that song in my head and walk around for hours singing to myself, "Turn down for what?" One of my SILs - also too old or this mess - has started using the phrase.

Once, when my teenaged nephew accompanied me on a shopping trip, he introduced me to a trendy descriptor that I kind of love. I was looking for a specific brand of sandals but couldn't find a pair that I liked. Too pink, too orange, and too "why in the hell did they make a day-glo green pair?' Finally, I explained to the clerk the color I just had to have was muted pink on black. I wanted them to wear with a tracksuit of the same color scheme. I guess I was being just a little dramatic. My nephew made the remark that I was being "so extra". Listen. I knew immediately what he was saying about me. And I loved it. I was ashamed of being such a broke-ass drama queen, but I loved the phrase.


Words are just beautiful building blocks, aren't they? Each generation can change and rearrange them to fit the times. This is why we should read works of literature and prose from all time periods. We are missing out if we only focus on the here and now of art.

Speaking of the (not-too-distant) past, I was only about 13 o r14 when I first read Gwendolyn Brooks' poem "We Real Cool" and even then the intense wordplay aroused my brain. Later in my life, Nikki Giovanni's "And I Have You" and "Resignation" affected me in the same way. But those ladies are officially poets. What I also love is when wordplay just spills out of the streets and into the general lexicon. (By the way, I'm going to have to talk about those two ladies in another post.)

I enjoy just listening to people converse. Some of you might call that eavesdropping, but hear me out. It's not what people talk about but how they talk. The way a person uses language is such a part of their personality. I guess it's what comics call "delivery" It's why one of my nieces is so funny without even trying. (One of my favorite comedians is Kathleen Madigan. She mostly talks about her family and her fairly ordinary life. So why do I end up laughing until I can't breathe?)

Sometimes, when I am not eavesdropping, I pick up and decide to use slang words without knowing enough about them. I've always known that "bae" was a term of affection that older people don't (or shouldn't) use. What I didn't know is that it stands for "before anyone else". Well, damn. No matter what age you are, that's sweet.

To explain someone being upset by saying that they are "salty" is just too perfect. Back in the day, we'd explain someone angry as having their jaws tight or being "heated". I still use that one. I also personally love the term "slay". That so truly expresses someone on top of their game.

"Thirsty" is one of those terms I should not have used before I understood that it meant horny. I thought that when you were "thirsting" for someone, you were just attracted to them. Okay, so technically...

The first time I saw "GOAT" on social media, my silly ass automatically went into conspiracy theory mode. (Stop laughing.) When I found out it stands for "greatest of all time", I wasn't that impressed.

About 10 years back, my older nieces and nephews loved teasing me about staying up with current slang. Well, what goes around comes around and everybody ages. These days, they are getting the same teasing from my younger family members.

I wonder if most people even realize where a lot of the current social media slang comes from. Do they care? Or are they just slinging around phrases mindlessly (the way I did with "thirsty")?.

The now overused term "woke" has been appropriated by just about every internet hipster. I don't think many of them know anything about  William Melvin Kelley. Some of them might have learned about Marcus Garvey. My father taught me about the writings of Kelley and I was given an overview of Garvey at some point in school. I don't remember much about either. Now I have to add them to my list of things to research.

Of course, I know that a lot of black slang dribbled down from our slavery era ancestors. There are - or were - a lot of communities and groups of people who have their own patois.  A lot of us cobbled together languages made up of our mother tongue mated with American English. I think this is what Zora Neale Hurston was paying tribute to when writing phonetically.

Speaking of Hurston and cobbled language, if you really want your mind blown, go check out the Gullah language. My mother had relatives who grew up speaking what she called "Geechee". I wish now that I had paid more attention and asked questions when Mom talked about these people.  I met some of these relatives when I was very young so I don't remember much about their speaking style. (Now I have to go and look at the Gullah language Bible because... who knew?) Thank goodness for the internet.



Not knowing a language is one thing. You expect to feel excluded. What's crazy is that I can sit next to a person speaking English and have no idea what they are saying. I suppose every generation has its own sub-language made up out of their mother tongue. My younger nieces and nephews speak in 'slanguage' I call internet shorthand. Everything is acronyms and abbreviations spoken in rapid-fire bursts. And it's not just with the net-speak; it's the hieroglyphic texts. Adults who haven't kept up at all with internet slang can't read half the stuff on a kids phone.

We older folk should break out some of the slang we once used or at least were familiar with. I clearly remember my brothers and their friends using terms that would still work today. If someone was deeply in love, you'd say that their nose was wide open. Instead of expressing frustration by saying "doggone", you'd say "dag".

To go further back in history with black slang, check out this Glossary of Harlem Slang by Ms. Hurston. The term "jelly" was still in use when I was young and I had no idea what it meant until I was grown. As a matter of fact, a lot of music lovers have no idea what the term "jelly roll" means in the blues or why so many blues musicians include it in their names. I think Jelly Roll Morton is the most famous.

Update: A social media contact emailed to tell me that she and her friends say "Jelly" as shortspeak for "jealous". I cannot keep up with it, people. But now I know something new. Thanks, L.D.

Just for kicks, I'm going to link to this video of Bessie Smith singing "Nobody In Town Can Bake A Sweet Jelly Roll Like Mine". Enjoy.

So, yes, language is awesome, but only if we use it to include, not exclude. And that's the main point of this post. Or at least, I think it is. I don't know, I started it yesterday and kind of lost my way with it. Oh well. Now I think I am going to go and read up on that Gullah Bible I just discovered.

Peace
--Free


"I'd like to think I'm a mess you'd wear with pride."
Yes. Absolutely.

Thursday, May 02, 2019

Art & Emotion

I have never felt comfortable discussing art with most people who like art. That's because I feel so ignorant on the subject. I do agree with whoever said they didn't know much about art but knew what they liked. And I tend to like what makes me feel or think.

Georgia O'Keeffe was the first artist I appreciated and it wasn't even her actual work that drew me in first. What I loved right off was the romance between her and the man who loved her so - and who photographed her in such a way that the love was obvious. I always wanted a man to look at me the way I imagined Alfred Stieglitz looked at O'Keeffe. I felt voyeuristic because of much I loved one sensual photo of her (you can see it here) and  I obsessed over O'Keeffe's hands. Later, I learned to love the way she painted those flowers.

O'Keeffe's flowers made me think about the simple beauty of nature that most of us don't take the time to appreciate. They reminded me to be in awe of nature and to truly understand that  - in Reddit-speak - nature is f**king lit.

You can only know what you are exposed to. Books and music are what my parents - my father - taught me to love. Both are forms of art but I was never really introduced to paintings or sculptures. The commonly know works of Michelangelo and da Vinci was unavoidable since I grew up on the Bible and in church. And... that's it basically. I have glanced at photos of works by the classical greats but so have most people.

Recently, I watched something on Netflix about an artist whose work really made me take notice. Struggle: The Life and Lost Art of Szukalski was interesting in all kinds of ways. I haven't decided exactly how I feel about the artist himself, but I fell in love with his work. The only way I can describe it is to say that if Szukalski had been a singer, he could hit notes no one even knew about. (By the way, here is where you learn more or even purchase books and prints.)

This piece is a favorite. And this and this and this (which is titled "Stubborn" but, to me, portrays depression). There's no room to list all the ones I like. I also loved the look of the letters he wrote to his wife. By the way, the man wrote like an artist. Literally. You have to watch the film to get that part.

I'm really glad that I happened upon that film because I discovered another artist. I think that artists - of all kinds and all mediums, whether visual, aural or otherwise - give the rest of us new ways to understand our feelings. For instance, I can't explain what love feels like but  Gwendolyn Brooks did it for me with her poem (my favorite!). Side note: I remembered blogging about the poem before and it was also a post about mood expression.

What I am realizing is that I can either just stumble across beautiful things (by happening upon a film) or I can search them out. I guess I need to start paying more attention to the world that is outside my head. It's been a while since I have even taken time to appreciate the works of artists I love. I need to change up some life priorities...

Before I close out this post, I want to explain that my parents did expose me to a lot of beautiful things. I didn't appreciate it at the time like most children don't. I wish my father could be here to tell me more about the music he loved and why he loved it. I can remember my mother helping me to understand why she loved the old "negro" spirituals she sang and hummed all the time. I'm even glad that I went through my teen years loving the works of Nikki Giovanni without understanding why until years later.

I can't remember now what prompted me to write this post, but it has motivated me. I want to spend some time this weekend looking back over some of my favorites artists. I want to get to a used book store and make some finds. Now I've got art and emotion on my brain.

Peace
-Free









Friday, April 27, 2012

For One of The BFFs (To Be In Love)

(Because "B" is in love & struggling with it right now, this is my favorite Gwendolyn Brooks' poem. Hey, B, like I was telling you, we can't understand love & should never, ever try to.)

To be in love 
Is to touch with a lighter hand. 
In yourself you stretch, you are well. 
You look at things 
Through his eyes. 
A cardinal is red. 
A sky is blue. 
Suddenly you know he knows too. 
He is not there but 
You know you are tasting together 
The winter, or a light spring weather. 
His hand to take your hand is overmuch. 
Too much to bear. 
You cannot look in his eyes 
Because your pulse must not say 
What must not be said. 
When he 
Shuts a door- 
Is not there_ 
Your arms are water. 
And you are free 
With a ghastly freedom. 
You are the beautiful half 
Of a golden hurt. 
You remember and covet his mouth 
To touch, to whisper on. 
Oh when to declare 
Is certain Death! 
Oh when to apprize 
Is to mesmerize, 
To see fall down, the Column of Gold, 
Into the commonest ash




B - Sleep good, sweets. It's been a rough few days, but you are going to be alright & I'm going to be alright. Alright? LOL


Peace
--Free


*Thanks to Poem Hunter.