"Tu Do Street" Yusef Komunyakaa

In his poetry, Yusef Komunyakaa weaves together the elements of his own life in short lines of vernacular to create complex images of life in his native Louisiana and the jungles of Vietnam. From his humble beginnings as the son of a carpenter, Komunyakaa has traveled far to become a scholar, professor, and prize-winning poet.


Searching for love, a woman,
someone to help ease down the cocked hammer
of my nerves & senses. The music 
divides the evening into black 
& white -- soul, country & western,
acid rock, & Frank Sinatra.
I close my eyes & can see 
men drawing lines in the dust,
daring each other to step across.
America pushes through the membrane
of mist & smoke, & I'm a small boy
again in Bogalusa skirting through talk
coming out of bars with White Only
signs & Hank Snow. But tonight,
here in Saigon, just for the hell of it,
I walk into a place with Hank Williams
calling from the jukebox. The bar girls
fade behind a smokescreen, fluttering
like tropical birds in a cage, not 
speaking with their eyes & usual
painted smiles. I get the silent 
treatment. We have played Judas
for each other out in the boonies
but only enemy machinegun fire 
can bring us together again.
When I order a beer, the mama-san
behind the counter acts as if she
can't understand, while her
eyes skirt each white face,
Down the street black GIs
hold to their turf also.
An off-limits sign pulls me
deeper into alleys, as I look
for a softness behind these voices
wounded by their beauty & war.
Back in the bush at Dak To
& Khe Sanh, we fought
the brothers of these women
we now run to hold in our arms.
There's more than a nation divided
inside us, as black & white
soldiers touch the same lovers
minutes apart, tasting
each other's breath,
without knowing these rooms
run into each other like tunnels
leading to the underworld.



“Tu Do Street” by Yusef Komunyakaa can be understood as autobiographical. Through the development of the poem, the use of imagery and historical allusions allow the reader to find out the speaker’s identity in a racial context.  Komunyakaa wastes no time in revealing who the speaker is. First creating an image of two concrete, contrasting colors: black and white, the reader can see that the poem will comment on race. Alluding to “soul, country & western,/ acid rock, & Frank Sinatra,” genres and singers popular in the late 40’s and early 50’s, Komunyakaa guides readers’ minds to the stereotypical black, American soldier of the time period, “Searching for love, a woman,/ someone to help ease down [his] cocked hammer.” This racial identity is further stereotyped in the “White Only” signs the speaker passes by on his way into a bar. An outcast in this place, “[He] get[s] the silent/ treatment.” The bartender does not even acknowledge his request for a beer “while her/ eyes caress a white face.” We see the speaker continually breaking the stereotype. Unlike the stereotypical black man of the time that we know to be innocent, conflict avoiding, and obedient, the speaker disregards the “White Only” sign and later “An off limits sign pulls [him]/ deeper into alleys.” The speaker is further identified as a pensive and thoughtful individual, gaining a new perspective from his location in Saigon as the reader gets to hear his commentary on the ‘United’ States of America, “There’s more than a nation divided/ inside us, as black and white/ soldiers touch the same lovers/ minutes apart, tasting/ each other’s breath.” We finally get to see some of the thoughts that guide the speaker into that “White Only” bar and down the forbidden alley and it’s these thoughts that complete the speaker’s identity as more than a stereotypical black GI.

"Introduction to Poetry" by Billy Collins

“We seem to always know where we are in a Billy Collins poem, but not necessarily where he is going. I love to arrive with him at his arrivals. He doesn’t hide things from us, as I think lesser poets do. He allows us to overhear, clearly, what he himself has discovered.” 

-Stephen Dunn

Collins served as U.S. Poet Laureate from 2001 to 2003, and as the New York State Poet Laureate from 2004 to 2006. His other honors and awards include the Mark Twain Prize for Humor in Poetry, as well as fellowships from the New York Foundation for the Arts, the National Endowment for the Arts, and the Guggenheim Foundation. 

I ask them to take a poem   

and hold it up to the light   

like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem   

and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem’s room   

and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski   

across the surface of a poem

waving at the author’s name on the shore.

But all they want to do

is tie the poem to a chair with rope   

and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose   

to find out what it really means.

In Billy Collin's "Introduction to Poetry" the speaker urges students, and any reader of poetry for that matter, to enjoy and appreciate poetry as the art that it is. The speaker that we understand to be a teacher asserts that poetry is most appreciated as a sensory experience. The beauty found in poetry is simple: observation in the deepest sense of the word, observation that allows one "to waterski across the surface," viewing it in different lights, and hearing the rhythm and meter with an "ear [pressed] ... against its hive." We often find ourselves "[tying] the poem to a chair with rope and tortur[ing] a confession out of it" but this is what ruins poetry. Instead of appreciating it for art, we tend to break it down into a science, a method, a procedure. Rather than seeing, hearing, smelling, touching, and tasting poetry with the words on the page, we dissect each line and stanza, obliterating any meaning for which we begin to search.

To completely disregard the speaker's requests, analysis of the poem's structure follows. The seven stanzas of Collins's poem vary in length between one and three lines. The seemingly random stanza length provides the reader with an ongoing perception of new and different ideas. This, in combination with the vivid imagery helps Collins's ideas to jump off the page, completely throwing away any need to "beat [the poem] with a hose to find out what it really means." The imagery reinforces the speaker's call to appreciate the artistry behind poetry with the senses, and the reader can't help but do so.