Bury My Clothes by Roger Bonair-Agard

By Roger Bonair-Agard

Bury My outfits is a meditation on violence, race, and where in paintings at which they intersect. Art—specifically in oppressed communities—is approximately survival, Roger Bonair-Agard asserts, and developing personhood in an international that claims you have got none. via poetry, we remodel either the area of paintings and the realm itself.

Roger Bonair-Agard is a Cave Canem fellow, two-time nationwide Poetry Slam Champion, and writer of Tarnish and Masquerade and Gully. He has seemed 3 times on HBO's Def Poetry Jam and is Co-founder and creative Director of the LouderARTS venture in ny.

Show description

Read or Download Bury My Clothes PDF

Similar poetry books

Fire to Fire: New and Selected Poems

Mark Doty's fireplace to fireside collects the easiest of his seven books of poetry, in addition to a beneficiant choice of new paintings. His signature variety encompasses either the plainspoken and the artfully wrought, as one in every of modern American poetry's such a lot lauded, recognizable voices speaks to the crises and chances of our time.

Poetry in Person: Twenty-five Years of Conversation with America's Poets

“In the autumn of 1970, on the New university in Greenwich Village, a brand new instructor published a flyer at the wall,” starts Alexander Neubauer’s creation to this extraordinary publication. “It learn ‘Meet Poets and Poetry, with Pearl London and site visitors. ’” Few scholars answered.

Fervor de Buenos Aires

Escrito con algún resabio ultraísta y bajo el influjo de su regreso a Argentina tras los años vividos en Europa, este libro anticipa con nitidez los angeles obra futura de Borges. En sus páginas ya están las metáforas clásicas, los angeles adjetivación asombrosa, el incipiente planteo metafísico, los angeles precisión verbal, los angeles unusual inflexión vacilante que esconde un remate perfecto.

Summer Mystagogia. Poetry

Booklet through Beasley, Bruce

Extra resources for Bury My Clothes

Sample text

The rain fell like a parachute on the street, But the civil guard of ash-bins Stood like policemen in a file near their houses. And an old hag went, a rope around her neck, From bin to bin in the rain, and raised each lid, And found them, every coffin, empty. And at the bottom of the road, In the presence of the ravenous ashes there in the café, The ashes that had escaped from the bins, Whitechapel's lard-bellied women, Golders Green Ethiopians, On a handy lamp-post, the hag hanged herself, with her rope.

Surpassing pity is the pure, blazing love that tempers the saints' iron by blow after blow, That scourges the flesh to its fort in the soul, and its home In the heavenly spirit, and its burrow in the most holy, That burns and slashes and tears till the final skirmish, Till it strips and embraces its prey with its claw of steel. She little knew, six days before the Pasch, Pouring the moist precious nard upon him, all of it, That truly 'she kept this for my burial'; She did not imagine, so precious his praise for her task, That she would never, never more touch his feet or his hands; Thomas could place his hand in his side; but she, despite her weeping, Only in the pitiful form of Bread would the broken flesh now come to her.

2 Vanessa Io Empress of butterflies On a peony throne, outspread, Its wings like the peacock's train Or Cleopatra's fan - alive. 3 Peaches Summer's velvet on the tongue, and its fruit's savour A sweet shiver on the palate, Firm-fleshed green and purple pouch, August's blood has filled your hollow. Page 40 Carol On the ancient tree sprung from Adam's grave, Jesse's black and knotted trunk, Was grafted a branch from heaven, and today, Oh hosanna, Oh hosanna, Seehere is God's own rose. In the starless night, no moonlight, The pit of winter, in the year's Senilitybehold, a Baby, The Son of Mary, Oh Sibyl, The king of heaven was born.

Download PDF sample

Rated 4.18 of 5 – based on 29 votes