A Monastery for Alice Coltrane

Charleen McClure

She never say a word but I hear a storm:the wind unsettling, americancities in distress. It began with her wordlessmoan eased on top piano.Dear Alice, the cassava womenwe come from taught us howto pray, Sweet Alicein california and open skies, Dear Alice,I’m torn. Someone tell me how‘d the holy spirit get a hold—                                                   I hear a storm.Lord help me Lord help me Lordhelp—I heard my mama yell some SundaysYes Lord, Yes Lord, My Soulmost others. I wondered if she ever fellin love with a man who held his leftlung like a saxophone in detroitor kansas city. Did anybody ever holdmy mama that way? Alice will tell about it.She writes it down on her pagethough the ink’s not there                       as soon as she gets it all down, it disappears—                       as soon as she gets him down, he disappears again                       as soon as you get it down, it disappearsinto the silence staining our hands. Scale the dreamof jazzmen, freshly polished shoes on sand,the beloved posed beside them in the Saharanext to pyramids; gold horns stretchtheir hands.I dream their lips pressed into song for the beloved,into song for the creator, into song for us all.At the monastery with Alice, we daydream,doing the laundry, washing our clothes, throwingthe sun up and over our shoulder like trouble                                                                                         Dear GodMay there be peace and love and perfectionamong all creation O GodMay there be peace and love and perfectionamong all creation O GodMay there be peace and love and perfection                                            O God                                                                          I hear a storm

Feature Date

Series

Selected By

Share This Poem

Print This Poem

Headshot of Charleen McClure
Photo:
Claret Castell

Charleen McClure is the author of d-sorientation (BOA, 2024). She writes and lives a few miles off the Chattahoochee River.

Cover of d-sorientation

BOOKSHOP

PUBLISHER

d-sorientation
BOA Editions

Rochester, New York

  • Featured book

Charleen McClure’s d-sorientation wanders the landscape of loss with a weathered eye and a clenched fist. Delving deep into personal hauntologies, McClure’s speakers are dislocated—their observations and interrogations are quietly desperate as they navigate history, relationships, and dig for their roots. The lexicon of McClure’s poetry is one of intimacy and outrage, one that challenges the reader to consider their own belonging.

“If you have ever been lost in a city, which is to say alive in a body, you know exactly how bewildering life can feel. Charleen McClure’s debut collection, d-sorientation, elicits an analogous sensation as unsettling as it is compelling. To quote the last line of McClure’s penultimate poem, ‘I hear a storm.’ Dear readers, take cover.”
—Nicole Sealey, author of The Ferguson Report: An Erasure

“Charleen McClure’s debut collection is radiant and searing. d-sorientation is an offering of ferocious beauty and relentless clarity. On these pages are tangible tendernesses woven through raging storms; writing miraculously from the eye, from the center of a howl is McClure, ancient-voiced, rooted, steady.”
—Mariahadessa Ekere Tallie, author of Strut

Poetry Daily Depends on You

With your support, we make reading the best contemporary poetry a treasured daily experience. Consider a contribution today.

DONATE NOW