“i have been robbed
it looked like they knew
that i was to be hit
they took my tv
my two rings
my piece of african print
and my two guns
if they take my life
it won't stop
the revolution”
The complete poem is about how, if Nikki Giovanni ever got killed, and could
never write another poem, it would not stop the Black revolution. The small
stanza I selected focuses on how people are trying to intimidate her to by
robbing her.
The lines in the poem are short, with no punctuation. This makes the poem read
fast, as each line runs into the other. This creates a different affect for
each reader, because each reader can choose which words to emphasize, and where
to put in pauses.
There are no end rhymes in this poem, but there is alliteration at the start of
some of the lines. Lines one, two, eight and nine repeat the “i” sound. Lines
three, four, and ten repeat the “th” sound. And lastly, lines five and six
repeat the “m” sound. This repetition of sounds helps create a rhythm. With the
rhythm created, it helps empathizes the words that fallow the alliterated sound.
This poem is a narrative poem, that tells the story of Nikki Giovanni’s
struggle of expressing herself. She uses a strong tone, to get her point across.
Not many people want to think of their own deaths, but she confronts that idea,
and then says in a simple way, “Even if I die, you cannot stop this revolution
from happening.”
Overall this poem uses strong alliteration to get the poem into a rhythm, and
with the lack of punctuation, it lets the reader emphasize different parts of
the poem.
I personally was very affected by this poem, and I wrote a response to it last
winter. This is the poem:
“I
Be Writtin’”
They say I won’t be writtin’ anything good.
They say I’m too black to be in the day.
I should lower my head, ‘cause I’m too hood.
But I still want to feel the sun’s hot rays.
They’ve seen where I live, tryin’ to scare me.
They came by in night, set fire to my car.
I don’t know why they can’t, won’t, let me be?
One night, they came at me in a bar.
They see me and tell me to bow my head.
I just grin at them because I will not.
I hear them speakin’ that they want me dead,
lynch me on string, just to see me rot.
I’m free ‘cause I ain’t their
slave no longer.
“Nigger,” they hiss, but I
ain’t no gonner.