FACING IT Yusef Komunyakaa “Obrego, Leslie Magallon, Jasmine Rodriguez, Samantha Keh, Kyra Aguilar-Gomez, Laurenn FACING IT Yusef Komunyakaa

Yusef Komunyakaa Born April 1943 in Bogalusa, Louisiana Raised in the beginning of Civil Rights Movement African-American, highly educated Served in Vietnam War 1969-1970 As editor of Southern Cross Did not write poems until 14 years later Wrote about difficulties of fighting along white soldiers

VIETNAM VETERAN MEMORIAL Built 1982 by Maya Lin Komuyakaa visited for the first time 1983 Experience inspired to reflect on feelings about the war

What the author is trying to say. No matter where you go, your past will always remain. It’s important to reflect and bear the effects. You do not have the power to change the past, but accept it. Face it.

Poem Structure Freeverse in poetic form No meter No rhyme

Literary Devices Caesuras and enjambments Imagery, similes, and personifications Emotional, mournful tone Simple, contradicting diction stone to flesh clouded to eyes of predator night to morning

hiding inside the black granite. I said I wouldn’t, dammit: No tears. My black face fades, hiding inside the black granite. I said I wouldn’t, dammit: No tears. I’m stone. I’m flesh. My clouded reflection eyes me like a bird of prey, the profile of night slanted against morning. Black face blends in, color granite used to build Tries to hide emotion, but fails stone: hard, solid flesh: fragile, living quality, soft Vision cloudy from tears Reflection looks at him as if he was prey

this way - the stone lets me go. I turn that way - I’m inside the Vietnam Veterans Memorial again, depending on the light to make a difference. I go down the 58, 022 names, half-expecting to find my own in letters like smoke. Feels relief when turned away Feeling of imprisonment when looking back Confident in number Feels as if he could have been dead Smoke gives surreal quality

the names stay on the wall. Could be comrade flashback of grenade I touch the name Andrew-Johnson; I see the booby trap’s white flash. Names shimmer on a woman’s blouse but when she walks away the names stay on the wall. Could be comrade flashback of grenade Shares name with 17th president vetoed Civil Rights Bill Caucasian, white flash Woman walks away without hesitation Did not participate in the war Shimmer is beauty Cut short by flashback

Brushstrokes flash, a red bird’s wings cutting across my stare. The sky. A plane in the sky. A white vet’s image floats closer to me, then his pale eyes look through mine. I’m a window. He’s lost his right arm inside the stone. Brushstrokes of a painting In reality, it’s a bird In memory, it’s a war aircraft Seeing an apparition Yusef becomes a window Vet could see ‘through’ Both have seen war Both are inside the wall

No, she’s brushing a boy’s hair. In the black mirror a woman’s trying to erase names: No, she’s brushing a boy’s hair. Sees the woman’s action as trying to remake history Shows Yusef’s feeling of it Stuck in the past, unable to accept it