Yolanda Johnson shares her poetry and message as a writer

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September 23, 1995
Yolanda Johnson - Reader and Speaker
Listen: Yolanda Johnson - poet
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Black poet Yolanda Johnson shares thoughts on her purpose as a writer and reads from her work.

Transcript:

(00:00:00) Hello, my name is Yolanda Johnson and I'm a poet and I am here to share myself with you this morning through my own words and through my poetry. I'm originally from Cordele Georgia and I've been living in the Twin Cities for about eight years thinking about my process as becoming a poet. I remember in my younger days paying attention to the way. I think I thought in poetry form and when I started writing I saw that form and therefore from that point on I consider myself a poet other things that for me that make me a poet one is my thinking paying attention to my thinking and my body in the shape and the form and spiritually it is my way of expression. It is my way of knowing and finding out who I am and it's a way of me sharing the most intricate parts of me with the rest of the world and that's I like to do and that's what I proposed to be the responsibility of my work. I use my way to deal with my own isms. My racism my classism my sexism my ageism. Whatever is them there is that I become aware of that is what I use my work as a responsibility to myself and therefore to share it with the world and hopefully you too will use it and confronting yourself with your daily trials and tribulations of your mom. Morality, the one message that I that I want to put out to all Riders and and Poets. It's true that I go go by is for me to be a writer of my own time and for me to be honest with myself and one of the biggest ways of me being honest with myself within my writing is to put more of myself into my writing and I grow so I'm going to share some of this growing with you. The first piece is Untitled. number two lost

(00:02:12) you I have Departed.

(00:02:18) We are separate beings now. Recollection of memories help me forgive the nuisance over you influence through your other yearnings and those than the Oblivion of Desire. The fallings of my jade plant replaced themselves ever so confidently. Still there is but

(00:02:44) one of you. surprise Who are you? Who

(00:03:01) is that peeking through the grass with both hands looking at me? a second look at a candle and its flame sitting on a tree stump in the very dark. dance fever I was afraid to be vulnerable. I felt vulnerable afraid to let go with him. He was dancing the polka

(00:03:38) music.

(00:03:40) I can't sit down when this music is playing. I don't know how anyone can he says to me for a while. I couldn't wouldn't get up even though I like polka music after all it's not a black thing. Well, Doing much contemplation criticism judgment shame and fear. I got up and danced with him. We danced in the kitchen then in the living room. Amazed with myself. I kept on Dancing. I had nothing to fear but fear itself accompanied by stereotypical Notions lack of objectivity self-induce Grimm. Enjoyed myself I did along with him. Certainly being entwined in wonderment I realized. It's safe to be

(00:04:45) me. Thank you.

Transcripts

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YOLANDA JOHNSON: Hello. My name is Yolanda Johnson. And I am a poet. And I am here to share myself with you this morning, through my own words and through my poetry. I'm originally from Cordele, Georgia. And I've been living in the Twin Cities for about eight years.

Thinking about my process as becoming a poet, I remember in my younger days, paying attention to the way I think. I thought in poetry form. And when I started writing, I saw that form. And therefore, from that point on, I considered myself a poet. Other things that, for me, that make me a poet, one is my thinking, paying attention to my thinking, and my body, and the shape, and the form.

And spiritually, it is my way of expression. It is my way of knowing and finding out who I am. And it's a way of me sharing the most intricate parts of me with the rest of the world. And that's what I like to do. And that's what I propose to be the responsibility of my work.

I use my work to deal with my own isms, my racism, my classism, my sexism, my ageism. Whatever ism that is that I become aware of, that is what I use my work, as a responsibility to myself and therefore to share it with the world. And hopefully, you too will use it in confronting yourself with your daily trials and tribulations of your morality.

The one message that I want to put out to all writers and poets. It's a rule that I go by, is for me to be a writer of my own time and for me to be honest with myself. And one of the biggest ways of me being honest with myself within my writing is to put more of myself into my writing. And I grow. So I'm going to share some of this growing with you.

The first piece is untitled. Number 2. Lost you, I have departed. We are separate beings now. Recollection of memories helped me forgive the nuisance over you. Influence through your other yearnings, indulged in the oblivion of desire. The fallings of my jade plant replace themselves ever so confidently. Still, there is but one of you.

"Surprise". Who are you? Who is that, peeking through the grass with both hands, looking at me? A second look at a candle and its flame, sitting on a tree stump, in the very dark.

"Dance Fever". I was afraid to be vulnerable. I felt vulnerable, afraid to let go with him. He was dancing to polka music. I can't sit down when this music is playing. I don't know how anyone can, he says to me. For a while, I couldn't, [CLEARS THROAT] wouldn't get up, even though I like polka music. After all, it's not a Black thing. Well, during much contemplation, criticism, judgment, shame, and fear, I got up and danced with him.

We danced in the kitchen, then in the living room. Amazed with myself, I kept on dancing. I had nothing to fear but fear itself, accompanied by stereotypical notions, lack of objectivity, self-induced grim. Enjoyed myself I did, along with him. Suddenly, being entwined in wonderment, I realized it's safe to be me. Thank you.

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