my dreams, my works, must wait till after hell

By Gwendolyn Brooks

I hold my honey and I store my bread   

In little jars and cabinets of my will.   

I label clearly, and each latch and lid   

I bid, Be firm till I return from hell.   

I am very hungry. I am incomplete.

And none can tell when I may dine again.   

No man can give me any word but Wait,   

The puny light. I keep eyes pointed in;   

Hoping that, when the devil days of my hurt   

Drag out to their last dregs and I resume   

On such legs as are left me, in such heart   

As I can manage, remember to go home,

My taste will not have turned insensitive   

To honey and bread old purity could love.

This poem also shows ambiguity in its non-specific hell. For some reason, this person must go through some horrible experience that is comparable to hell. In preparation, she puts away her “honey and bread”, which is representative of the dreams and works mentioned in the title. She locks them away, and despite being “incomplete”, or unfinished with life, is dragged away, where she can only wait for hell to be over. Her hope is to come back home after her experience, with her old innocence intact and the ability to love her old dreams and works. It’s a very interesting poem, alternating between tones of despair, resignation, and hope, and makes the reader wonder what Brooks was referring to, if anything. I was caught by the blunt yet symbolic tones in referring to “hell” and the realistic underlying message.

Parallelism: “I hold my honey and I store my bread” , “I am very hungry. I am incomplete.” , and “On such legs as are left me, in such heart as I can manage.”

Connotation: Honey and bread both hold connotations of coziness, and familiarity.

Free verse: No regular pattern of rhyme or meter.

to the Diaspora

you did not know you were Afrika

When you set out for Afrika
you did not know you were going.
Because
you did not know you were Afrika.
You did not know the Black continent
that had to be reached
was you.

I could not have told you then that some sun
would come,
somewhere over the road,
would come evoking the diamonds
of you, the Black continent--
somewhere over the road.
You would not have believed my mouth.

When I told you, meeting you somewhere close
to the heat and youth of the road,
liking my loyalty, liking belief,
you smiled and you thanked me but very little believed me.

Here is some sun. Some.
Now off into the places rough to reach.
Though dry, though drowsy, all unwillingly a-wobble,
into the dissonant and dangerous crescendo.
Your work, that was done, to be done to be done to be done.

There seems to be many different interpretations of this poem. Diaspora means the “scattering or migration of people away from the homeland” or the place migrated to. For this reason, it makes sense to think that “you” in this poem are the group of Africans migrating somewhere. However, there have been a number of migrations in African history, or African American history (the writing of Africa as “Afrika” may provide a clue), so this Diaspora seems to have been left ambiguous.

       No matter which Diaspora, each group carries a piece of Africa with them, hence the line “you were Afrika.” All along, this group carried the future glory of Africa. “You” would not believe, even when told, that “some sun” and “diamonds” would result from this migration and settlement. The road, here, is not only the real journey of such migrations, but is the long journey for Africans to fight for their glory and rights. “Black” is emphasized because of the long “road” for African Americans fighting for civil rights. Yet, this fight in continued, in the last stanza- the illumination of the sun or the recognition of blacks must shine even in “places rough to reach.” To Brook, this is the “work…to be done.” 

http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/diaspora

Metonymy: “You would not have believed my mouth.” Mouth is substituted for words and the idea “sun” will come.

Repetition: “to be done” is repeated three times in the last line, represents the continuing journey of African Americans. Also, “somewhere over the road” to emphasize the journey of Africans.

Metaphor: “evoking the diamonds of you, the black continent”- the diamonds represent the riches of Africa, in terms of the famous African American people who Africa offers on its journey to recognized. Also could stand for the resources that Africa has to offer.

Caesura: “somewhere over the road, would come evoking the diamonds of you, the Black continent-- somewhere over the road.” Long pause between “the Black continent” and “somewhere over the road.”

The Mother

by Gwendolyn Brooks

Abortions will not let you forget.
You remember the children you got that you did not get,
The damp small pulps with a little or with no hair,
The singers and workers that never handled the air.
You will never neglect or beat
Them, or silence or buy with a sweet.
You will never wind up the sucking-thumb
Or scuttle off ghosts that come.
You will never leave them, controlling your luscious sigh,
Return for a snack of them, with gobbling mother-eye.

I have heard in the voices of the wind the voices of my dim killed
children.
I have contracted. I have eased
My dim dears at the breasts they could never suck.
I have said, Sweets, if I sinned, if I seized
Your luck
And your lives from your unfinished reach,
If I stole your births and your names,
Your straight baby tears and your games,
Your stilted or lovely loves, your tumults, your marriages, aches,
and your deaths,
If I poisoned the beginnings of your breaths,
Believe that even in my deliberateness I was not deliberate.
Though why should I whine,
Whine that the crime was other than mine?--
Since anyhow you are dead.
Or rather, or instead,
You were never made.
But that too, I am afraid,
Is faulty: oh, what shall I say, how is the truth to be said?
You were born, you had body, you died.
It is just that you never giggled or planned or cried.

Believe me, I loved you all.
Believe me, I knew you, though faintly, and I loved, I loved you
All.

This is one of my favorite poems by Brooks. It has a very raw, pure voice- the voice of a mother who has gone through one or more abortions and feels extremely guilty. This poem captures her regret at having stolen their futures and her begging for their forgiveness. It also portrays the mother’s confusion, trying to express the truth, while unable to say it out loud, and her love for each. It is a simple piece, but very realistic and written with feeling.

Caesura: “Whine that the crime was other than mine?”- Since anyhow you are dead” give pause so that the reader can think on the previous question and the admittance of guilt.

Repetition: Last stanza- “Believe me, I loved you all. Believe me…I loved, I loved you/All.” This is used for emphasis and the depth of the mother’s love for her children.

Enjambment: “You will never neglect or beat/Them” and “if I seized/Your luck” and “But that too, I am afraid/Is faulty”

First Fight, Then Fiddle

First fight. Then fiddle. Ply the slipping string
With feathery sorcery; muzzle the note
With hurting love; the music that they wrote
Bewitch, bewilder. Qualify to sing
Threadwise. Devise no salt, no hempen thing
For the dear instrument to bear. Devote
The bow to silks and honey. Be remote
A while from malice and from murdering.
But first to arms, to armor. Carry hate
In front of you and harmony behind.
Be deaf to music and to beauty blind.
Win war. Rise bloody, maybe not too late
For having first to civilize a space
Wherein to play your violin with grace.
–Gwendolyn Brooks, 1949


This poem caught my eye because it was confusing to understand at first. However, I really liked the rhythm and rhyme, the way the sentences are finshed in the next line. I was also caught up in the imagery of the fiddling and then the contrast with war. The more I read this, the more I like it.
My understanding of this poem is that one needs to fight in order to have “a space wherein to play your violin with grace”, the violin representing the flourishing of art. Indeed, art flourishes during times of peace and not war. What’s interesting is how the author tells us “first fight. Then fiddle” when she describes fiddling first and then war. To me, it seems there is an irony here, where Brooks tells us during fiddling to be “remote…from malice and from murdering” and during fighting to be “beauty blind”- essentially to separate the two aspects in mind, yet there is a connection between them. The fiddler must “civilize a space” by killing people- not a very civil act. One must have fighting to have fiddling, and one’s desire to fiddle creates the necessity to fight. One cannot truly separate fighting and fiddling.

Alliteration: “First fight. Then fiddle.” (1), “slipping string” (1), “Bewitch, bewilder.” (4), and “beauty blind” (11).
Oxymoron: “Hurting love” (3) emphasizes the difference in violence (fight) and music (fiddle).

Sonnet: 14 lines that follow the pattern abbaabba cddc ee in single stanza form. 

Symbol: Fiddling represents peace and the time when art can flourish. 

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.

I was really intrigued by this poem despite its simplicity. Within these eight lines, Brooks portrays seven pool players who enjoy their lives, and pay for it at the end. The language imitates the language a real “pool player” might use and the colorful language in the beginning make it all the more stunning when the reader is given a very flat, unglamorous, but realistic end. 

Alliteration: “Lurk late”, “strike straight”, “sing sin” and “jazz June”. 

Anaphora: At the end of each sentence, “we” is an example of anaphora. This foreshadows the abruptness of the shocking end to this poem, where there is no “we” after “die soon.” According to an interview with Brooks, she chose to end each line with “we” to show their belief in their strong sense of identity, and the actual uncertainty in who they are. http://www.english.illinois.edu/maps/poets/a_f/brooks/werealcool.htm

Parallelism: “Jazz June” and “Die soon” both are structured similarly to emphasize the larger disparity between them. 

Couplet: The two lines rhyme, but the difference is that each line is enjambed. 

Gwendolyn Brooks

Gwendolyn Brooks was the first black author to win the Pulitzer Prize, first black woman to be poetry consultant to Library of Congress in 1985, and the Poet Laureate for state of Illinois in 1968. Her writing took on a more political edge later in her life. She continued to use her knowledge of African American culture and injustice to color a number of her poems. Brooks also addresses many issues about society and what it expects from the average person.

What I found interesting was her ability to captivate the reader through raw imagery and paradoxical or shocking phrases. Brooks clearly has had a lot of practice with poetry, because she twists around usage of poetical devices for her own, slightly bizarre, purposes. The message in each poem is unique, presented in layers of symbolism, and uncommon to write about. Though her most common messages deal with black injustice and feminism, she does not rehash the old thoughts- rather, she demonstrates work that keeps up with the modern generation.

Brooks has written over 20 books of poetry. She was born in Topeka, Kansas, in 1917, but moved to Chicago. She stayed there until her death, in December 3, 2000.

For more info:

http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/165

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/gwendolyn-brooks