Michael S. Harper
“When you’re in the act of writing…
the whole weight of one’s life and training comes to pass then.
So that was what I was trying to do.”
At the time of the 1994 conference, Michael S. Harper was serving as the first poet laureate of Rhode Island and had already published an impressive eight volumes of poetry, including the debut volume, Dear John, Dear Coltrane (1970), which was nominated for a National Book Award. Harper has served as editor of acclaimed works such as Chant of Saints: A Gathering of Afro-American Literature, Art, and Scholarship (1979), Every Shut Eye Ain’t Asleep: An Anthology of Poetry by African Americans Since 1945 (1994) and The Vintage Book of African American Poetry(2000). After the 1994 conference, Harper published books including Songlines in Michaeltree: New and Collected Poems (2000), Debridement (2001), and Use Trouble(2003). Harper was a poet-in-residence at Lewis & Clark College, and worked at institutions such as Reed College, California State College, and Brown University, the latter of which he taught at for some 40 years. He has been honored by a National Institute for the Arts and Letters Award, a National Endowment for the Arts (NEA), a Guggenheim Fellowship, and the Robert Hayden Memorial Poetry Award, among other distinctions. In 2005, Harper served as a judge for the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry, and in 2008, he won a Frost Medal for Lifetime Achievement from the Poetry Society of America. Michael S. Harper died in 2016.
Featured Poems
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“For Bud”
Interviews, Talks, and Readings
/ Michael S. Harper reads “Last Affair: Bessie’s Blues Song”
Disarticulated
arm torn out,
large veins cross
her shoulder intact,
her tourniquet
her blood in all-white big bands:
Can’t you see
what love and heartache’s done to me
I’m not the same as I used to be
this is my last affair
Mail truck or parked car
in the fast lane,
afloat at forty-three
on a Mississippi road,
Two-hundred-pound muscle on her ham bone,
‘nother n***** dead ‘fore noon:
Can’t you see
what love and heartache’s done to me
I’m not the same as I used to be
this is my last affair
Fifty-dollar record
cut the vein in her neck,
fool about her money
toll her black train wreck,
white press missed her fun’ral
in the same stacked deck:
Can’t you see
what love and heartache’s done to me
I’m not the same as I used to be
this is my last affair
Loved a little blackbird
heard she could sing,
Martha in her vineyard
pestle in her spring,
Bessie had a bad mouth
made my chimes ring:
Can’t you see
what love and heartache’s done to me
I’m not the same as I used to be
this is my last affair
/ Michael S. Harper reads “For Bud”
For Bud
Could it be, Bud
that in slow galvanized
fingers beauty seeped
into bop like Bird
weed and Diz clowned—
Sugar waltzing
back into dynamite,
sweetest left hook you
ever dug, baby;
could it violate violence
Bud, like Leadbelly’s
chaingang chuckle,
the candied yarn
twelve string clutch
of all the blues:
There’s no rain
anywhere, soft
enough for you.
Related Links
Interactive Program Day I
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