“Where Are The Poems For Dictators?” the title reads. I pick it up precariously, not sure I want to read more or trash the book as a good deed. I read on anyway, indulging in some of the best poetry I’ve ever read, the works of E. Ethelbert Miller. His poetry is political and stubborn, leaving little room to support the antagonists in his stories. He does very well at creating worlds within stanzas.
One poem in the book I found that really stood out to me was about a little girl, simply titled, Juanita.
“when she was small she wore the lipstick of her mother face made older with powder like the pictures of movie stars she cut from magazines The blonde ones she put on the wall next to Jesus”
Another one of my favorites, called Madonna, went like this:
“four children on a blanket eight children in a room I sleep with my eyes open the belly of José swollen like a half moon there is no milk in my breasts to comfort his needs yesterday Miguel walked to the city to beg for food it was his birthday I had no gift I prayed that Miguel would not steal the soldiers wait in doorways they bring us bullets”
Both of these poems are dealing with political unrest in Nicaragua around the time Ethelbert wrote this collection of poetry. The first discusses the idolization small children hold for their mentors and celebrity figures or famous adults around the time they grow up, sometimes changing themselves to try and be more like these people. Most of the children he speaks of do not know what it is like to be wanted or even looked up upon, so they strive to be like the women they see in magazines and yearn for a more refined life.
The second is about the hardships of growing up in a third world country and being poor, focusing especially on a family with eight children, all of them in need of food and a bed to sleep in. The mother talks of not having enough money to buy food or even a gift for her son’s birthday, and she prays to herself that her son does not try to steal to survive, because the military soldiers have no mercy on small children.
After doing some research I discovered Miller comes from African- American descent; he is a teacher and poet, and the heart he pours into his work is inspiring. His work taught me to continue to read old poetry books I find in thrift stores from now on, even if they have sketchy names; I never know what great stories might lie beneath the pages.
I really liked this. It made me want to read more of this poet’s work.
He sounds amazing, I really appreciate works and imagery that seems to pull you into the pages. I will be looking him up after class sometime soon for more. Thanks for the recommendation.