Alice Walker Poems

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 Expect nothing. Live frugally
On surprise.
become a stranger
To need of pity
Or, if compassion be freely
Given out
Take only enough
Stop short of urge to plead
Then purge away the need.

Wish for nothing larger
Than your own small heart
Or greater than a star;
Tame wild disappointment
With caress unmoved and cold
Make of it a parka
For your soul.

Discover the reason why
So tiny human midget
Exists at all
So scared unwise
But...Read more of this...

(Thinking of Lorraine Hansberry)


We must say it all, and as clearly
Trying to bury us.
As we can. For, even before we are dead,


Were we black? Were we women? Were we gay?
Were we the wrong shade of black? Were we yellow?
Did we, God forbid, love the wrong person, country?
Or politics? Were we Agnes Smedley or John Brown?


But, most of all, did we...Read more of this...

Expect nothing. Live frugally
On surprise.
become a stranger
To need of pity
Or, if compassion be freely
Given out
Take only enough
Stop short of urge to plead
Then purge away the need.


Wish for nothing larger
Than your own small heart
Or greater than a star;
Tame wild disappointment
With caress unmoved and cold
Make of it a parka
For your soul.


Discover the reason why
So tiny human midget
Exists at all
So scared unwise
But expect...Read more of this...

I have a friend
who is turning gray,
not just her hair,
and I do not know
why this is so.


Is it a lack of vitamin E
pantothenic acid, or B-12?
Or is it from being frantic
and alone?


'How long does it take you to love someone?'
I ask her.
'A hot second,' she replies.
'And how long do you love them?'
'Oh, anywhere up to several months.'
'And how long does...Read more of this...

I said to Poetry: "I'm finished
with you."
Having to almost die
before some wierd light
comes creeping through
is no fun.
"No thank you, Creation,
no muse need apply.
Im out for good times--
at the very least,
some painless convention."


Poetry laid back
and played dead
until this morning.
I wasn't sad or anything,
only restless.


Poetry said: "You remember
the desert, and how glad you were
that you have an eye
to see it with? You...Read more of this...

The old men used to sing
And lifted a brother
Carefully
Out the door
I used to think they
Were born
Knowing how to
Gently swing
A casket
They shuffled softly
Eyes dry
More awkward
With the flowers
Than with the widow
After they'd put the
Body in
And stood around waiting
In their
Brown suits. ...Read more of this...

(FOR MARTYRS)


They who feel death close as a breath
Speak loudly in unlighted rooms
Lounge upright in articulate gesture
Before the herd of jealous Gods


Fate finds them receiving
At home.


Grim the warrior forest who present
Casual silence with casual battle cries
Or stand unflinchingly lodged


In common sand
Crucified. ...Read more of this...

We alone can devalue gold
by not caring
if it falls or rises
in the marketplace.
Wherever there is gold
there is a chain, you know,
and if your chain
is gold
so much the worse
for you.


Feathers, shells
and sea-shaped stones
are all as rare.


This could be our revolution:
to love what is plentiful
as much as
what's scarce. ...Read more of this...

When Golda Meir
Was in Africa
She shook out her hair
And combed it
Everywhere she went.


According to her autobiography
Africans loved this.


In Russia, Minneapolis, London, Washington, D.C.,
Germany, Palestine, Tel Aviv and
Jerusalem
She never combed at all.
There was no point. In those
Places people said, "She looks like
Any other aging grandmother. She looks
Like a troll. Let's sell her cookery
And guns."


"Kreplach your cookery," said Golda.


Only in Africa could...Read more of this...

Who has not been
invaded
by the Wasichu?

Not I, said the people.

Not I, said the trees.

Not I, said the waters.

Not I, said the rocks.

Not I, said the air.

Moon!

We hoped
you were safe. ...Read more of this...