George Elliott Clarke Famous Poetry Collection

George Elliott Clarke, OC ONS (born February 12, 1960) is a Canadian poet, playwright, and literary critic who served as the Poet Laureate of Toronto from 2012 to 2015 and as the 2016–2017 Canadian Parliamentary Poet Laureate.

His work is known largely for its use of a vast range of literary and artistic traditions, its lush physicality, and its bold political substance. One of Canada's most illustrious poets, Clarke is also known for chronicling the experience and history of the Black Canadian communities of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, creating a cultural geography that he has coined "Africadia".

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George Elliott Clarke Quotes

Desire Illuminates 

The Dark Manuscripts Of Our Skin 

With Beetles And Butterflies. 

After

The Lightning And Rain Have Ceased. 

After The Lightning And Rain Of 

Lovemaking Has Ceased, 

Selah Will Dive Again Into

The Sunflower Open River.

Everything is Free Poem By George Elliott Clarke

Wipe Away Tears,

Set Free Your Fears: 

Everything Is Free.

Only The Lonely

Need Much Money:

Everything Is Free.

Don't Try To Bind

The Love You Find:

Everyone Is Free.

Your Lover's Yours

Surrender Force:

Everyone Is Free. 

The Sun Melts Down,

Spreads Gold Around: 

Everything Is Free.

The Rain Is Spent

Lending Flowers Scent:

Everything Is Free. 

The Love You Live,

The Life You Give:

Everything Is Free.

King Bee Blues By George Elliott Clarke

I'm An Ol' King Bee, Honey,

Buzzin' From Flower To Flower.

I'm An Ol' King Bee, Sweets,

Hummin' From Flower To Flower.

Women Got Good Pollen; 

I Get Some Every Hour.

There's Lily In The Valley

And Sweet Honeysuckle Rose Too; 

There's Lily In The Valley

And Sweet Honeysuckle Rose Too.

And There's Pretty Black-eyed Susan,

Perfect As The Night Is Blue.

You Don’t Have To Trust

A Single, Black Word I Say.

You Don’t Have To Trust

A Single, Black Word I Say.

But Don’t Be Surprised

If I Sting Your Flower Today.

Ballad of Othello Clemence Poem by George Elliott Clarke

There's A Black Wind Howlin' By Whylah Falls;

There's A Mad Rain Hammerin' The Flowers;

There's A Shotgunned Man Moulderin' In Petals;

There's A Killer Chucklin' To Himself;

There's A Mother Keenin' Her Posied Son;

There's A Joker Amblin' Over His Bones.

Go Down To The Sixhiboux River, Hear It Cry, 

"Othello Clemence Is Dead And His Murderer's Free!"

O Sang From Whylah Falls And Lived By Sweat, 

Walked That Dark Road Between Desire And Regret.

He Pitched Lumber, 

Crushed Rock, Calloused His Hands:

He Wasn't A Saint But He Was A Man.

Orange Moon Poem By George Elliott Clarke

Under The Orange Moon Of Whylah Falls, 

Missy Addles Her Guitar As If She Stirs A River. 

Shelley Descends Mount Eulah

And Breaks Some Apple Blossoms. 

Every Act Must Reveal Beauty.

Hence, Under The Orange Moon Of Whylah Falls,

I Am Plucking This Poem.

Seven Types of Ambiguity Poem By George Elliott Clarke

Every Word We Write Is A Breath-perhaps Our Last

Against Oblivion.

All Books Are Merely Delayed Dust.

Culture Is Space And Time Organized Into Sensible Forms. 

Post-modernism Is The Guilty Conscience Of Modernism.

The Lyric Sequence Is The Epitaph Of The Epic.

The Form Is As Form Does.

The Child's First Cry Is The First Song. Make It Beautiful.

The Secret Is To Sing.

Africadian Petition by George Eliott Clarke

The Snows Is Iron Set In. 

The Times Act Not As They Were. 

Snared In Snap Frost Nofaskosha: 

We're Dis Gusted By Government, Discomfotable.

We Are Hauling Hardships Long As Pines 

All White Whips Which You Putting 

To Us Here Since We Are Breathing And Luvving. 

Goddam Lashings Harp Our Crimsoning Hirt...

Your Honor Very Well Nose

Whether Ragerlations Shell Change. 

Shift, For Our Satisfaction. 

You Forgot Us, 

So We Are Nothing Like Rain, Sobbing Over Water.

Is There Any Nourishment? 

Such As Oatmeal Molasses. 

Or Sugar, A Little Wine, And Spirits. 

To Heat Our Harts?

Is There Sum Sope To Scour Up 

Your Council's Muddying Lyes?