This October is Black History Month here in the UK, so to celebrate we’ve collated just a small selection of poems from the minds of brilliant Black poets for you to read!
The voices of the likes of Maya Angelou and Michael S. Harper are important in sharing and reclaiming Black History, and their use of powerful poetry is pivotal in highlighting both the struggles and triumphs of the Black community – historical and contemporary.
We can all learn so much from these poems, and the context behind them, so it is vital that we continue to raise awareness of Black History during this October, as well as all year round, so that we can acknowledge the accomplishments of the Black community and keep striving for racial equality in the modern world.
You can find more resources as part of Black History Month over on their poetry corner here.
Take a look at the five poems we’ve selected below!
1. On Being Brought from Africa to America, Phillis Wheatley
‘Twas mercy brought me from my Pagan land,
Taught my benighted soul to understand
That there’s a God, that there’s a Saviour too:
Once I redemption neither sought nor knew.
Some view our sable race with scornful eye,
“Their colour is a diabolic die.”
Remember, Christians, Negros, black as Cain,
May be refin’d, and join th’ angelic train.
Source – On Being Brought from Africa to America by… | Poetry Foundation
You can buy Wheatley’s poetry collection here.
2. Caged Bird, Maya Angelou
A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wing
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn
and he names the sky his own
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
Source – Caged Bird by Maya Angelou | Poetry Foundation
You can buy Angelou’s memoir, I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings here.
3. American History, Michael S. Harper
Those four black girls blown up
in that Alabama church
remind me of five hundred
middle passage blacks,
in a net, under water
in Charleston harbor
so redcoats wouldn’t find them.
Can’t find what you can’t see
can you?
Source – American History by Michael S. Harper | Poetry Foundation
You can buy Songlines in Michaeltree: NEW AND COLLECTED POEMS here.
4. Ballad of Birmingham, Dudley Randall
(On the bombing of a church in Birmingham, Alabama, 1963)
“Mother dear, may I go downtown
Instead of out to play,
And march the streets of Birmingham
In a Freedom March today?”
“No, baby, no, you may not go,
For the dogs are fierce and wild,
And clubs and hoses, guns and jails
Aren’t good for a little child.”
“But, mother, I won’t be alone.
Other children will go with me,
And march the streets of Birmingham
To make our country free.”
“No, baby, no, you may not go,
For I fear those guns will fire.
But you may go to church instead
And sing in the children’s choir.”
She has combed and brushed her night-dark hair,
And bathed rose petal sweet,
And drawn white gloves on her small brown hands,
And white shoes on her feet.
The mother smiled to know her child
Was in the sacred place,
But that smile was the last smile
To come upon her face.
For when she heard the explosion,
Her eyes grew wet and wild.
She raced through the streets of Birmingham
Calling for her child.
She clawed through bits of glass and brick,
Then lifted out a shoe.
“O, here’s the shoe my baby wore,
But, baby, where are you?”
Source – Ballad of Birmingham by Dudley Randall | Poetry Foundation
5. homage to my hips, Lucille Clifton
these hips are big hips
they need space to
move around in.
they don’t fit into little
petty places. these hips
are free hips.
they don’t like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved,
they go where they want to go
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
i have known them
to put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top!
Source – homage to my hips by Lucille Clifton | Poetry Foundation
You can buy Clifton’s poetry collection here.
For more resources and information on Black History Month, click here!