Morning Song and Evening Walk

1.

Tonite in need of you
and God
I move imperfect
through this ancient city.

Quiet. No one hears
No one feels the tears
of multitudes.

The silence thickens
I have lost the shore
of your kind seasons
who will hear my voice
nasal against distinguished
actors.

O I am tired
of voices without sound
I will rest on this ground
full of mass hymns.
2.

You have been here since I can remember Martin
from Selma to Montgomery from Watts to Chicago
from Nobel Peace Prize to Memphis, Tennessee.
Unmoved along the angles and corners
of aristocratic confusion.

It was a time to be born
forced forward a time
to wander inside drums
the good times with eyes like stars
and soldiers without medals or weapons
but honor, yes.

And you told us: the storm is rising against the
privileged minority of the earth, from which there is no
shelter in isolation or armament
and you told us: the storm will
not abate until a just distribution of the fruits of
the earth enables men (and women) everywhere to live
in dignity and human decency.
3.

All summerlong it has rained
and the water rises in our throats
and all that we sing is rumored
forgotten.
Whom shall we call when this song comes of age?

And they came into the city carrying their fastings
in their eyes and the young 9-year-old Sudanese
boy said, “I want something to eat at nite a
place to sleep.”
And they came into the city hands salivating guns,
and the young 9-year-old words snapped red
with vowels:
Mama mama Auntie auntie I dead I dead I deaddddd.
4.

In our city of lost alphabets
where only our eyes strengthen the children
you spoke like Peter like John
you fisherman of tongues
untangling our wings
you inaugurated iron for our masks
exiled no one with your touch
and we felt the thunder in your hands.

We are soldiers in the army
we have to fight, although we have to cry.
We have to hold up the freedom banners
we have to hold it up until we die.

And you said we must keep going and we became
small miracles, pushed the wind down, entered
the slow bloodstream of America
surrounded streets and “reconcentradas,” tuned
our legs against Olympic politicians elaborate cadavers
growing fat underneath western hats.
And we scraped the rust from old laws
went floor by floor window by window
and clean faces rose from the dust
became new brides and bridegrooms among change
men and women coming for their inheritance.
And you challenged us to catch up with our
own breaths to breathe in Latinos Asians Native Americans
Whites Blacks Gays Lesbians Muslims and Jews, to gather
up our rainbow-colored skins in peace and racial justice
as we try to answer your long-ago question: Is there
a nonviolent peacemaking army that can shut down
the Pentagon?

And you challenged us to breathe in Bernard Haring’s words:
the materialistic growth–mania for
more and more production and more
and more markets for selling unnecessary
and even damaging products is a
sin against the generation to come
what shall we leave to them:
rubbish, atomic weapons numerous
enough to make the earth
uninhabitable, a poisoned
atmosphere, polluted water?

5.

“Love in practice is a harsh and dreadful
thing compared to love in dreams,” said a Russian writer.
Now I know at great cost Martin that as we burn
something moves out of the flames
(call it spirit or apparition)
till no fire or body or ash remain
we breathe out and smell the world again
Aye-Aye-Aye Ayo-Ayo-Ayo Ayeee-Ayeee-Ayeee
Amen men men men Awoman woman woman woman
Men men men Woman woman woman
Men men Woman woman
Men Woman
Womanmen.

Sanchez, Sonia. “Morning Song and Evening Walk.” Shake Loose My Skin: New and Collected Poems. Boston: Beacon Press, 1999. Please do not distribute this work without permission. You may submit requests to reprint the work of Sonia Sanchez from titles published by Beacon Press through its website.

Dear Sister Sonia:

We’ve never met in person, yet we’ve spoken on the phone dozens of occasions since I joined Beacon Press back in 2012. I’ve been so blessed to work with you as your publicist these past few years. It’s a strange feeling to “know” someone only via the phone. I feel in some ways like we’re long distance pen pals, even though you’re only in Philadelphia and I’m in Boston. I’ve come to expect that particular warmth in your voice whenever we speak and I hear that familiar “Brother Nicholas, any calls?” from you. It’s part of who you are as a person and an artist.

You have lived countless lives and filled numerous roles: poet, playwright, teacher, activist, mother, friend, and one of the foremost leaders of the Black Arts Movement in the 1970s. You came to Beacon Press in 1995 and granted us the privilege of working with you through some of your best work: Wounded in the House of a Friend, Does Your House Have Lions?, Like the Singing Coming Off the Drums: Love Poems, Shake Loose My Skin, and Morning Haiku. You’ve been awarded for your artistry, education, and activism, named the Poet Laureate of Philadelphia, and even been made the subject of a documentary, BaddDDD Sonia Sanchez.

For me, though, you’ll always be Sister Sonia, the woman who recommended I put tiger balm on my chest to clear up my sinus infection, who sent me a handwritten note and gift on the occasion of my wedding last year, and who always wants to know how I’m feeling as we discuss upcoming media and event opportunities over the phone.

On this your birthday, I wish you many happy returns, and thank you for the wonderful spark you’ve brought to this world through your writing, activism, teaching, and compassion.

You are a remarkable “BaddDDD” woman.

Yours truly,

Brother Nicholas DiSabatino

Nicholas DiSabatino, publicist, graduated from Kent State University and has an MA in Publishing and Writing from Emerson College. He joined Beacon in 2012.

Sanchez has said, “I write to keep in contact with our ancestors and to spread truth to people.” As poet laureate, her words about the national park system will reach new audiences that are familiar with her truth.Sanchez was the Laura Carnell Professor of English and Women’s Studies at Temple University, and is the recipient of both the Robert Frost Medal for distinguished lifetime service to American poetry and the Langston Hughes Poetry Award. One of the most important writers of the Black Arts Movement, Sanchez is the author of more than 20 books.

Read the rest of the release here.

On June 15th, join Sonia Sanchez, Ta-Nehisi Coates, and Toni Morrison at NYC’s Ambassador Theatre for an evening of Art and Social Justice!

Check out Sonia’s events page for more details.

—

In BaddDDD Sonia Sanchez, Sanchez’s life unfolds in a documentary rich with readings and jazz-accompanied performances of her work. With appearances byQuestlove, Talib Kweli, ursula rucker, Amiri Baraka, Haki Madhubuti,jessica Care moore, Ruby Dee Yasiin Bey, Ayana Mathis, IMANI UZURIand Bryonn Bain, the documentary examines Sanchez’s contribution to the world of poetry, her singular place in the Black Arts Movement and her leadership role in African American culture over the last half century.

This event is made possible by the College of Arts and Letters, the Department of English, the CSULA Center for Contemporary Poetry and Poetics, the Cross Cultural Centers, Statement Magazine, and the Statement Unbound Literary Society.

For information on parking, please visit CSULA Campus Maps. For more information, contact the Department of English at (323) 343-4140, or visit their website.

Rich with spoken word performances and readings by young black artists, this film honors the life and legacy of poet, activist, and teacher Sonia Sanchez.