Sonia Sanchez Poems
- Personal Letter No. 3 nothing will keep us young you ...
- A Love Poem Written for Sterli... I'm gonna get me some ...
- Ballad forgive me if i laugh you are so sure of love you ...
- To Anita high/yellow/black/girl walken like the sun u be. ...
- Under a Soprano Sky once i lived on pillars in a green house ...
- Present This woman vomiting her hunger over the world this ...
- Depression I have gone into my eyes bumping against sockets ...
Sonia Sanchez (born Wilsonia Benita Driver; September 9, 1934) is an African-American poet most often associated with the Black Arts Movement. She has authored over a dozen books of poetry, as well as short stories, critical essays, plays, and children's books. She was a recipient of 1993 Pew Fellowships in the Arts. In 2001, Sanchez was the recipient of the Robert Frost Medal for her poetry (one of the highest honors awarded to a nationally recognized poet) and has been influential to other African-American female poets, including Krista Franklin.
Sanchez was born in Birmingham, Alabama, on September 9, 1934. Her mother died when Sanchez was only two years old, so she spent several ... more »
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Quotationsmore quotations »
''...I write to keep in contact with our ancestors and to spread truth to people.''Sonia Sanchez (b. 1934), African American author and political activist. As quoted in I Dream a World, by Brian Lanker (1989).
''... in order to be a true revolutionary, you must understand love. Love, sacrifice, and death.''Sonia Sanchez (b. 1934), U.S. poet. Black Women Writers at Work, ch. 10, by Claudia Tate (1985).
''The black artist is dangerous. Black art controls the "Negro's" reality, negates negative influences, and creates positive images.''Sonia Sanchez (b. 1934), African American poet. Black Women Writers at Work, ch. 10, by Claudia Tate (1985).
Personal Letter No. 3
nothing will keep
us young you know
not young men or
women who spin
their youth on
cool playing sounds.
we are what we
are what we never
think we are.
no more wild geo
graphies of the
flesh. echoes. that
we move in tune
to slower smells.
it is a hard thing
to admit that
sometimes after midnight
i am tired
of it all.