After some 1,200 plus poems that I have written over the past 30 or so years of my life, I still do not consider myself a poet. Albeit, I have
published poems in multiple literary publications and poetry journals, participated in inordinate readings and published a collection of
verse with another on the way.
I love not only writing poetry but reading it also. And I have many favorites, including Gwendolyn Brooks, Countee Cullen, Pablo Neruda, Milton, Michael Harper and Paul Dunbar among others. My friends, who also write poetry, and I would habitually talk and
ruminate on poetry during and after our days at Morehouse College.
Yet, it is difficult for me to fathom Oprah Winfrey and her magazine being a vehicle for the valid discussion and presentation of poetry. My personal take is that such is equal to Michele Bachmann writing a book on the history of Islam in North Africa or to the only black actor in a horror movie surviving to the end or to calling Waka Flocka Flame a poet.
Invalid. Now, do not get me wrong. It is a commendable thing that O Magazine is exposing black folk to poetry and honoring National Poetry Month. But I would be incondite if I did not express the concerns and fears about this. First, I am attempting to comprehend Maria Shriver as O, The Oprah Magazine‘s guest editor for the magazine’s poetry-focused April issue. Second, what does having eight female poets modeling clothes, including Rachel Eliza Griffiths in a $2,757 sequined cardigan and a $1,296 slim pencil skirt, have to do with poetry?
Maybe, it is the polemic in me who perceives it a joke to accept instruction about poetry from the likes of Mike Tyson, Ashton Kutcher or Demi More. For me, it is not a joke or a function of celebrity but rather involves the venerable liberty of expressing the undeniable and thrilling awesomeness of writing and reading poetry. And for me, it is more than incontrovertible that Miss Winfrey doesn’t understand this sentiment. –torrance stephens
