ours poetica
Maurice Carlos Ruffin reads "enemies"
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Duration: | 01:28 |
Uploaded: | 2019-12-13 |
Last sync: | 2024-11-26 23:45 |
Maurice Carlos Ruffin reads Enemies by Lucille Clifton.
Brought to you by Complexly, The Poetry Foundation, and poet Paige Lewis. Learn more: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/
Maurice Carlos Ruffin:
https://loweramericanson.com/
https://twitter.com/MauriceRuffin
Poem: Enemies by Lucille Clifton
Book: The Collected Poems of Lucille Clifton 1965-2010
Press: BOA Editions, Ltd.
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Brought to you by Complexly, The Poetry Foundation, and poet Paige Lewis. Learn more: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/
Maurice Carlos Ruffin:
https://loweramericanson.com/
https://twitter.com/MauriceRuffin
Poem: Enemies by Lucille Clifton
Book: The Collected Poems of Lucille Clifton 1965-2010
Press: BOA Editions, Ltd.
11 issues of Poetry, subscribe today for $20: https://poetrymagazine.org/OursPoetica
Follow us elsewhere for the full Ours Poetica experience:
twitter.com/ourspoeticashow
instagram.com/ourspoeticashow
facebook.com/ourspoeticashow
#poetry #ourspoetica
Hello I'm Maurice Carlos Ruffin and I'm gonna read Lucille Clifton's Enemies.
I chose this poem because it is a brilliant mixture of the feeling of both aggression and kindness. I've never seen anything quite like it in a poem, that's why I enjoy it so much.
enemies
evening.
i creep
into the tent
of Saul.
for his sake
i have learned
the taste of blood.
in battle
i would drink his
and he mine.
we have become
enemies
yer here
he is an old man
sleeping
or my father.
i will remove
his armaments
his sword
his shield.
come morning
he will know himself
naked but alive
and i will remember
myself also. David.
the poet David.
I chose this poem because it is a brilliant mixture of the feeling of both aggression and kindness. I've never seen anything quite like it in a poem, that's why I enjoy it so much.
enemies
evening.
i creep
into the tent
of Saul.
for his sake
i have learned
the taste of blood.
in battle
i would drink his
and he mine.
we have become
enemies
yer here
he is an old man
sleeping
or my father.
i will remove
his armaments
his sword
his shield.
come morning
he will know himself
naked but alive
and i will remember
myself also. David.
the poet David.