Knoxville, Tennessee

- Nikki Giovanni

I always like summer
best
you can eat fresh corn
from daddy’s garden
and okra
and greens
and cabbage
and lots of
barbecue
and buttermilk
and homemade ice-cream
at the church picnic
and listen to
gospel music
outside
at the church
homecoming
and go to the mountains with
your grandmother
and go barefooted
and be warm
all the time
not only when you go to bed
and sleep

from: Black Feeling, Black Talk, Black Judgment. Copyright 1968, 1970.

The Laws of Motion

- Nikki Giovanni

          (for Harlem Magic)

The laws of science teach us a pound of gold weighs as   

much as a pound of flour though if dropped from any   

undetermined height in their natural state one would

reach bottom and one would fly away

Laws of motion tell us an inert object is more difficult to   

propel than an object heading in the wrong direction is to   

turn around. Motion being energy—inertia—apathy.   

Apathy equals hostility. Hostility—violence. Violence   

being energy is its own virtue. Laws of motion teach us

Black people are no less confused because of our   

Blackness than we are diffused because of our

powerlessness. Man we are told is the only animal who   

smiles with his lips. The eyes however are the mirror of

the soul

The problem with love is not what we feel but what we   

wish we felt when we began to feel we should feel

something. Just as publicity is not production: seduction

is not seductive

If I could make a wish I’d wish for all the knowledge of all   

the world. Black may be beautiful Professor Micheau

says but knowledge is power. Any desirable object is

bought and sold—any neglected object declines in value.   

It is against man’s nature to be in either category

If white defines Black and good defines evil then men

define women or women scientifically speaking describe

men. If sweet is the opposite of sour and heat the

absence of cold then love is the contradiction of pain and

beauty is in the eye of the beheld

Sometimes I want to touch you and be touched in   

return. But you think I’m grabbing and I think you’re   

shirking and Mama always said to look out for men like   

you

So I go to the streets with my lips painted red and my   

eyes carefully shielded to seduce the world my reluctant   

lover

And you go to your men slapping fives feeling good   

posing as a man because you know as long as you sit   

very very still the laws of motion will be in effect

from: The Women and the Men. Copyright 1970.

Poem For A Lady Whose Voice I Like

 - Nikki Giovanni

 

so he said: you ain’t got no talent   

    if you didn’t have a face   

    you wouldn’t be nobody

and she said: god created heaven and earth   

    and all that’s Black within them

so he said: you ain’t really no hot shit   

    they tell me plenty sisters   

    take care better business than you

and she said: on the third day he made chitterlings   

    and all good things to eat   

    and said: “that’s good”

so he said: if the white folks hadn’t been under   

    yo skirt and been giving you the big play

    you’d a had to come on uptown like everybody else

and she replied: then he took a big Black greasy rib

    from adam and said we will call this woeman and her   

    name will be sapphire and she will divide into four parts   

    that simone may sing a song

and he said: you pretty full of yourself ain’t chu

so she replied: show me someone not full of herself   

    and i’ll show you a hungry person

from: The Collected Poetry of Nikki Giovanni, Copyright 2003.

Mothers

- Nikki Giovanni

the last time i was home
to see my mother we kissed
exchanged pleasantries
and unpleasantries pulled a warm
comforting silence around
us and read separate books
i remember the first time
i consciously saw her
we were living in a three room
apartment on burns avenue
mommy always sat in the dark
i don’t know how i knew that but she did
that night i stumbled into the kitchen
maybe because i’ve always been
a night person or perhaps because i had wet
the bed
she was sitting on a chair
the room was bathed in moonlight diffused through
those thousands of panes landlords who rented
to people with children were prone to put in windows
she may have been smoking but maybe not
her hair was three-quarters her height
which made me a strong believer in the samson myth
and very black
i’m sure i just hung there by the door
i remember thinking: what a beautiful lady
she was very deliberately waiting
perhaps for my father to come home
from his night job or maybe for a dream
that had promised to come by
“come here” she said “i’ll teach you
a poem: i see the moon
the moon sees me
god bless the moon
and god bless me”
i taught it to my son
who recited it for her
just to say we must learn
to bear the pleasures
as we have borne the pains

from: The Collected Poems of Nikki Giovanni, Copyright 2003.

Possum Crossing

- Nikki Giovanni

Backing out the driveway
the car lights cast an eerie glow
in the morning fog centering
on movement in the rain slick street

Hitting brakes I anticipate a squirrel or a cat or sometimes
a little raccoon
I once braked for a blind little mole who try though he did
could not escape the cat toying with his life
Mother-to-be possum occasionally lopes home . . . being
naturally . . . slow her condition makes her even more ginger

We need a sign POSSUM CROSSING to warn coffee-gurgling neighbors:
we share the streets with more than trucks and vans and
railroad crossings

All birds being the living kin of dinosaurs
think themselves invincible and pay no heed
to the rolling wheels while they dine
on an unlucky rabbit

I hit brakes for the flutter of the lights hoping it's not a deer
or a skunk or a groundhog
coffee splashes over the cup which I quickly put away from me
and into the empty passenger seat
I look . . .
relieved and exasperated ...
to discover I have just missed a big wet leaf
struggling . . . to lift itself into the wind
and live


from: Quilting the Black-Eyed Pea. Copyright 2003.

Quilts

- Nikki Giovanni

(for Sally Sellers)

Like a fading piece of cloth
I am a failure

No longer do I cover tables filled with food and laughter
My seams are frayed my hems falling my strength no longer able
To hold the hot and cold

I wish for those first days
When just woven I could keep water
From seeping through
Repelled stains with the tightness of my weave
Dazzled the sunlight with my
Reflection

I grow old though pleased with my memories
The tasks I can no longer complete
Are balanced by the love of the tasks gone past

I offer no apology only
this plea:

When I am frayed and strained and drizzle at the end
Please someone cut a square and put me in a quilt
That I might keep some child warm

And some old person with no one else to talk to
Will hear my whispers

And cuddle
near


from: the Visual Verse Project.
Photo: detail of "I'm Not Sorry" quilt.

My First Memory (of Librarians)

    by Nikki Giovanni

This is my first memory:
A big room with heavy wooden tables that sat on a creaky
       wood floor
A line of green shades—bankers’ lights—down the center
Heavy oak chairs that were too low or maybe I was simply
       too short
              For me to sit in and read
So my first book was always big

In the foyer up four steps a semi-circle desk presided
To the left side the card catalogue
On the right newspapers draped over what looked like
       a quilt rack
Magazines face out from the wall

The welcoming smile of my librarian
The anticipation in my heart
All those books—another world—just waiting
At my fingertips.

from: Acolytes by Nikki. Copyright 2007. 

Quilts

by Nikki Giovanni 
— for Sally Sellers




Like a fading piece of cloth
I am a failure

No longer do I cover tables filled with food and laughter
My seams are frayed my hems falling my strength no longer able
To hold the hot and cold

I wish for those first days
When just woven I could keep water
From seeping through
Repelled stains with the tightness of my weave
Dazzled the sunlight with my
Reflection

I grow old though pleased with my memories
The tasks I can no longer complete
Are balanced by the love of the tasks gone past

I offer no apology only
this plea:

When I am frayed and strained and drizzle at the end
Please someone cut a square and put me in a quilt
That I might keep some child warm

And some old person with no one else to talk to
Will hear my whispers

And cuddle
near

Knoxville Tennessee

by Nikki Giovanni (1943 - present)

I always like summer
Best
you can eat fresh corn
From daddy's garden
And okra
And greens
And cabbage
And lots of
Barbeque
And buttermilk
And homemade ice-cream
At the church picnic
And listen to
Gospel music
Outside
At the church
Homecoming
And go to the mountains with
Your grandmother
And go barefooted
And be warm
All the time
Not only when you go to bed
And sleep