The Rare Magic that was Nikki
In 2009, poet Giovanni wrote this poem for NPR after the election of the first Black President of the United States.
Barack Obama
“I’ll walk the streets
And knock on doors
Share with the folks:
Not my dreams but yours
I’ll talk with the people
I’ll listen and learn
I’ll make the butter
Then clean the churn”
The universe lost one of its brightest stars
Nikki Giovanni died yesterday. Giovanni was a celebrated poet, writer, and activist whose remarkable and influential work often addressed vital themes of social justice, love, and the profound importance of community. Through her powerful and poignant verses, she thoughtfully explored the complexities of the human experience, offering readers a unique and resonant perspective that speaks across generations. With a distinctive and captivating voice, along with an unwavering commitment to her craft, Giovanni made significant and lasting contributions to contemporary literature and inspired countless individuals from diverse backgrounds all around the world. Her enduring legacy as an influential figure in the literary landscape was marked by her ability to connect deeply and meaningfully with her audience, forging bonds that transcend time and place.
Born Yolande Cornelia Giovanni, Jr. in Knoxville, Tennessee, on 7 June, 1943, Nikki Giovanni grew up in Cincinnati, Ohio, where she began to develop her passion for writing and literature. She graduated with a degree in history from the prestigious Fisk University, which provided her with a strong foundation for her future literary endeavors. A world-renowned poet and one of the foremost authors associated with the Black Arts Movement, her notable and impactful books of poetry include Black Judgment (1968) and Those Who Ride the Night Winds (1983). These works were heavily influenced by her active participation in both the Black Arts Movement and the broader Black Power movement during the transformative 1960s. Throughout her esteemed career, Giovanni published numerous collections of poetry—from her very first self-published volume, Black Feeling Black Talk (1968), to the NYT best-selling Bicycles: Love Poems (2009). In addition to her poetry, she wrote several significant works of nonfiction and children's literature and made multiple recordings, including the Emmy-award nominated The Nikki Giovanni Poetry Collection (2004). Her most recent publications showcase her continued relevance in literature, including Make Me Rain: Poems & Prose (2020); Chasing Utopia: A Hybrid (2013). As an editor with a discerning eye for talent and a deep appreciation for literary art, she curated and brought together an impressive compilation titled The 100 Best African American Poems, which was published in the year 2010. Over the course of her prolific career, she has published many volumes of poetry, essays, and edited anthologies, as well as eleven illustrated children’s books, including Rosa, an award-winning biography of the iconic activist Rosa Parks.
“My dream was not to publish or to even be a writer: my dream was to discover something no one else had thought of. I guess that’s why I am a poet. We put things together in ways no one else does.”
©2020 | Filmmaker Lorenzo Dickerson of Maupintown Media sits down with the "Princess of Black Poetry" Nikki Giovanni, as they discuss Jesus, Mars, Starbucks, Donald J. Trump, Muhammad Ali, Black Lives Matter, 2PAC, Thomas Jefferson, Nina Simone, Michael Jackson, Barbara Bush, Kentucky Fried Chicken and MORE.
A Poem for Carol
(May She Always Wear Red Ribbons)
when i was very little
though it's still true today
there were no sidewalks in lincoln heights
and the home we had on jackson street
was right next to a bus stop and a sewer
which didn't really ever become offensive
but one day from the sewer a little kitten
with one eye gone
came crawling out
though she never really came into our yard but just
sort of hung by to watch the folk
my sister who was always softhearted but able
to act effectively started taking milk
out to her while our father would only say
don't bring him home and everyday
after school i would rush home to see if she was still
there and if gary had fed her but i could never
bring myself to go near her
she was so loving
and so hurt and so singularly beautiful and i knew
i had nothing to give that would
replace her one gone eye
and if I had named her which I didn't I’m sure
i would have called her carol
