Silencer

Had to buy this for my college level poetry class. Have t read all of it, I kind of skip around. Seems like a solid poet so far.

the subject of these poems isn’t double consciousness, it’s not that kind of dialectic, and it’s not anger. history, visited on the present, is a nightmare from which marcus wicker can’t escape. as, his self-description in Film Noir at Gallop Park, On the Edge, as ‘a black American poet, newly thirty & middle class…’ living a cul-du-sac, he’s enveloped by terror or paranoia, take your pick. as for prayer, all he can pray for are things to barricade him against ‘the threat of …’well, and the awaited object, moment or event? ‘So far it’s the summer of two brothers/unarmed, erased, posterized. two more and I live…’the nightmare is unspeakable, but finish the phrase, ‘…the threat of…’ ‘under the threat/of rain…’ the unsayable becomes the sayable as everyday language charged by the hidden, innocuous enough, unless you’re listening to him as he seems to lose it, his middle class composure, reeling toward invective and, in the face of micro-aggressions the attributes and accoutrements, read bling, of ‘the’ black life style, as with these fresh lines from Blue Faces: after Kendrick Lamar:‘… Given the blueblood exclusivity of the oil industry, give us Sprewells. Chrome helicopter wings. Rims that continue to spin stopped short of a destination. Wide enough to bank the sun against crumbling brick party-store walls. Given the blueblood fields of grain, give us all the gold everything: gold watch, gold chains, three sparkling pinky rings dropped in Ace of Spades champagne like a garnish. … Cashier holding my twenty up to the light to see if it’s real money. Like I’d be shopping at Wal-Mart if I could counterfeit money.’all of this is unsaid, everything he feels is silenced, but still, like a fired shot, and if he believes he is caught in the crosshairs, imagined or not, whether he spends his waking hours identifying with hunted animals and running, there’s that impact, and, for this body of poems, tone, very tonal, peculiar to a silencer.

Marcus Wicker has written a book of poetry I will find myself returning to over and over again. I am not African-American. Wicker is. In his melodic poems he moves effortlessly from subtle to brutal, from a nuance to a bludgeon. SILENCER has given me pause, reinforcing my long-held belief that the cultural chasm between black and white is vast. It cannot be bridged, nor should it. What Wicker demands, what we all demand, is respect.The poem that affected me the most was “Watch Us Elocute.” At a party a “well-meaning Waspy woman from Connecticut money” spouts “Gosh, you’re so well-spoken.” These are among the thousands of micro-aggressions in the life of an educated college professor and poet.Other favorites of mine, “”Stumped Speech on the Internet” and “The Trees.” The last section of the book, Cul-de-sac Pastoral neatly hones in on the collective need for acceptance in a tribe, this one, middle-class suburbia.Off to buy his first collection, MAYBE THE SADDEST THING.

I dove into reading the poems but paused because I wanted to know more about Marcus Wiicker and his inspiration. I researched on the Internet, reading the notes he supplied on his website explaining influences for some of these poems and watching video of his poetry readings as well as reading interviews about his life and his work. Then I return to the book and read more. On the third session I reread some, with each reading I gained different insights. In hearing him read his poems it is completely different than me reading them and hearing these words in my own head, really his work is better when hearing his voice reading with cadence and rhythm and hearing his intended emphasis, then they are lyrical and even more powerful. Wicker is educated and well read and begin writing when he was in elementary school. In one interview he said he dressed as an adult and even as a young child. Introduced to poetry in the 10th grade by attending a poetry slam he turned his focused writing poems. His poems in Silencer are a combination of reacting to news stories in America regarding police brutality and or race relations issues. Other poems explore his life is a college professor and living in the Midwest middle class suburbs while he also feels judged and looked at differently for being a black man in those places which are predominately white. There are also some about religion and coming to terms with his changing views.These are complicated issues and who am I to judge the perceptions and experiences of another person? Some of these are hard topics, don't we all want to believe that the police are here to protect us and to serve us? Yet the fact is sometimes bad things happen.Of course being a white middle-aged woman who has always lived in the suburbs I can most relate to his cul-de-sac poems. Reading poetry makes you curious and thinking persons want to dissect and understand the perspective of the writer. There was a lot of food for thought here although I don't know that I will ever understand or be able to relate to all of it. Being a nature lover, the poem I disliked the most was perhaps the least hot button topic, The Trees.Wicker is a talented poet and writer and I respect his talent and ability to use words to convey emotion and his philosophical queries about life in America today. Rating 4 stars = Like It although I wavered toward 5 stars. I wish I could hear Wicker read all of these.

What an interesting compilation of poems. Some so full of well worn ire, some supremely grateful. Some oblique, some straightforward. Some beseeching, some perplexed. All literary and timely.I love the mix and the mystery of not knowing what kind of poem I'll get next.I found them all worth reading, which is saying a lot.Wicker's themes, which range from the quotidian to the deepest issues on earth, need to be explored. Who better than such an unsparing observer with a heart?Whether delving into himself or society his penetrating awareness and keen observational skills made me pause and think. Isn't that what great poetry is supposed to do?

Incredible...wonderfully surprising humor/pop culture references.