Lucille Clifton
Lucille Clifton
Lucille Clifton was an American poet, writer, and educator from Buffalo, New York. From 1979 to 1985 she was Poet Laureate of Maryland. Clifton was nominated twice for the Pulitzer Prize for poetry...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth27 June 1936
CityDepew, NY
CountryUnited States of America
accepting call-me
I don't go get a poem. It calls me and I accept it.
eye kissing blessing
blessing the boats (at saint mary’s) may the tide that is entering even now the lip of our understanding carry you out beyond the face of fear may you kiss the wind then turn from it certain that it will love your back may you open your eyes to water water waving forever and may you in your innocence sail through this to that
intelligence intuition doe
Intellect doesn't translate across cultures; intuition does.
letting-go running new-year
I am running into a new year and the old years blow back like a wind that I catch in my hair like strong fingers like all my old promises and it will be hard to let go of what I said to myself about myself when I was sixteen and twenty-six and thirty-six but I am running into a new year and I beg what i love and I leave to forgive me.
black sound black-women
I am a black woman poet and I sound like one.
girl mother husband
If i should enter the house and speak with my own voice, at last, about its awful furnitutre, pulling apart the covering over the dusty bodies; the randy father, the husband holding ice in his hand like a blessing, the mother bleeding into herself and the small imploding girl, i say if i should walk into that web, who will come flying after me, leaping tall buildings? you?
funny children mama
Children when they ask you why your mama so funny say she is a poet she don't have no sense
healing telling-the-truth
Tell the truth... maybe just to see clearly, as clearly as possible.
dream fields mama
My Mama Moved Among the Days My Mama moved among the days like a dreamwalker in a field; seemed like what she touched was here seemed like what touched her couldn't hold, she got us almost through the high grass then seemed like she turned around and ran right back in right back on in
mistake writing hymns
People wish to be poets more than they wish to write poetry, and that's a mistake. One should wish to celebrate more than one wishes to be celebrated.
mean knowing water
I keep hearing tree talk water words and i keep knowing what they mean.
art play safety
You cannot play for safety and make art.
knowing wonder
Poems come out of wonder, not out of knowing.
art writing thinking
don’t write out of what I know; I write out of what I wonder. I think most artists create art in order to explore, not to give the answers. Poetry and art are not about answers to me; they are about questions.