Watch me sleep in this room that looks so much like night. event : evt, I lost my seeing in that war. Photos | Summary | Follow. "I would see a news story and I would think, 'Well, where was the person in this story before the instance of this story. Select the best result to find their address, phone number, relatives, and public records. I done seen more than this. Review. When help comes, it will be young men smelling like cigarettes and Chevys, muscled boys with autumn breath and steel baskets just the right size for our souls. } In all the places I fall, it is dry. We flail in that sin, alive and bended beneath a wretched Southern rain. Patricia Smith (born 1955) is an American poet, spoken-word performer, playwright, author, writing teacher, and former journalist. A Hakka Man Farms Rare Earth in South China. And how you, without flinching, called me your child. We are stunned on our scabbed backs. Then wait. See what they have done, how hard and sweet they done dropped me here? I’ll be the one slightly off center. Wait with me. Patricia has many family members and associates who include Gregory Smith, Kayla White, Tracy Smith, Kelly Smith and Cameron Smith. I’m gon’ wake up, I swear it, to some kind of sun. Funny how colored I got. 17 Profile Searches Follow. We don’t never die quiet. I’ll be the one facing the wrong way. Required fields are marked *. Tags: New Orleans, Patricia Smith, poetry, Foreign Policy In Focus - A project of the Institute for Policy Studies There is no light, no thin food moving through my arms. Edit Profile. This is Me - Control Profile. Only some things float. Additional information is available in this. (Hat-tip: Sherry Chandler.). Blood Dazzler, a book of poems chronicling the tragedy of Hurricane Katrina, will be published by Coffee House Press in 2008. Her work has appeared in Poetry, The Paris Review, TriQuarterly and many other journals. This is Me - Control Profile. Content under a Creative Commons Attribution licence. Your email address will not be published. They left the porch creaking. I was slingback and press curl and big titties with necessary milk. Photos | Summary | Follow. God is in all houses. If you knew my alley, its stink and blue, if you knew dirt-gritted collard greens that are salt-pork slick and doused with Tabasco, then you knew me. In fact, Smith, a former journalist, gets much of her inspiration from news stories. Patricia Smith (born 1955) is an American poet, spoken-word performer, playwright, author, writing teacher, and former journalist.She has published poems in literary magazines and journals including TriQuarterly, Poetry, The Paris Review, Tin House, and in anthologies including American Voices and The Oxford Anthology of African-American Poetry. Patricia Smith lives in Cary, NC; previous cities include Brighton MA, North Reading MA and North Andover MA. Dave Bonta and Marie Craven both license their writing here under a. })(); Content © the authors and available as a Free Cultural Work (except for the videos, which are the property of their creators). You've disabled JavaScript in your web browser. We bob and bounce and spin slow, draped in an odd sparkle. Call us those who do not need these days. It's like you place yourself at a prospective plac… There is the sound of whispered splashing, and then this: The walls are slithering with Bayou spit, tears, the badness that muddies rivers. Patricia Smith poems, quotations and biography on Patricia Smith poet page. Big easy. Age 50s. The poem is from Blood Dazzler. The poem is from Blood Dazzler. What requires me to hear the bones? Hollow be our names. March 15, 2008. Patricia Smith, in 34, describes the rising waters and the victims they claim. Thank you. I ain’t scared of no wet, no wave. 34 by Patricia Smith 21 September, 2010 by Dave Bonta - 1 Comment - Posted in Performance Poetry. Save my name, email, and website in this browser for the next time I comment. I want the man with my needles. I believe Jesus is hugely who He says he is: The crook of an arm, a shadow threatening my hair. listeners: [], Twist our heads on our snapping necks back to where we danced from. Gets harder to remember how my womb folded because of them, how all of me lumbered with their foolish weight. They have done, how all of me lumbered with their foolish...., without flinching, called me your child because of them, how of... How you, without flinching, called me your child appeared in Poetry the. The places i fall, it is dry the Paris Review, TriQuarterly and many other journals their address phone... Her work has appeared in Poetry, the Paris Review, TriQuarterly and many other journals Smith, shadow. Biography on patricia Smith poems, quotations and biography on patricia Smith ( 1955. Scared of no wet, no wave i lost my seeing in that war harder to remember how womb. 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