SFW CONSULTING
Advertising & Public Relations
Copy writing
Speech writing
Public Relations


The Educator
University Instructor at
Columbia College
East-West University
Roosevelt University
Harold Washington College


The Poet
Published in
the United States,
Canada
and England

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MBE \ WBE certification pending.

 
Web Sites Featuring Sharon F. Warner's writing and poetry

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The Advertising & P.R. Specialist
*Created print, radio and television advertising for a variety of clients, including McDonald's, AMOCO, Johnson Products, K-mart and Jewel
*Developed press releases and publicity campaigns

The Educator
Teaches classes in English, Composition, Business Writing, African-American Literature, Poetry, Humanities, and Speech

The Poet
*Has been published in newspapers, magazines, journals, anthologies, chapbooks, and websites
*Has had her work displayed visually at the Athenaeum in Schaumburg and Columbia College in Chicago

Hear Sharon Warner reading her own work on WBEZ Public Radio

Sharon Warner is a dynamic community poet and teacher in Chicago.  She will be presenting her  poetry along with Carolyn Roders at the Carter G. Woodson Library, 9522 S. Halsted, on Saturday, April 10, 2004 at 2:00 p.m.                                      

PERIODICAL PUBLICATIONS
Poems have been published in journals such as the
*Journal of Ordinary Thought--2004, 2003, 2002, 2001, 2000, 1999, 1998, 1997
*LABOR HISTORY--2003, 2002
*Literacy Across the Curriculmedia Focus--2003

BOOK PUBLICATIONS
*Poetry has been included in the Garland Court Review--2004, 2003, 2002, 200-- and Oyez Review #29
*Published by Creativity Unlimited--LESSONS, 1994; Greetings of the Season, 1993;
I AM/I WRITE, 1983; Lotus Petals, 1979

FORTHCOMING PUBLICATIONS
*Sampler, a collection of recent work
*5-7-5, a collection exploring the range and diversity of haiku

AWARDS AND HONORS
*1st Prize for Fiction, Ossie Davis & Ruby Dee Story Hour -"William Stanton's Body"
*Poets & Patrons - "Haiku for Phillis Wheatley " and "The Dance of Love"
*World of Poetry - "Meditations on the Fall"

RECENT READINGS, PERFORMANCES AND PRODUCTIONS
*Presented poetry as part of the Chicago Humanities Festival, the Chicago Book Festival, the Printers Row Book Fair and the Hyde Park Art Fair
*Participated in I, GRIOT: STANDING ON THE SHOULDERS OF GIANTS, a Historical Photograph of Chicago's Black Writers sponsored by Third World Press
*Read and recorded poetry and prose on WBEZ, Chicago Public Radio

RECENT WORKSHOPS
Participated in writing workshops with Elizabeth Berg, David Barr, Rosellen Brown, Kelly Norman Ellis and Kenneth Warren

PREFERRED AUDIENCE
Can develop a meaningful presentation for any audience

OPEN HOUSING: THE WALL OF NOISE
Sharon F. Warner

I was thinking recently about the Wall of Noise,
The noise of the raging, raving, racist white people
Who were yelling unintelligible curses
At me and the other demonstrators
Who were marching through Gage Park,
Marching for open housing,
Marching with Martin Luther King.
I can’t say I remember it like it was yesterday,
Because I don’t. And it wasn’t.
I was an idealistic young college student,
And I was marching for the ideal, the principle
Of open housing.
That’s what I remember.

As I looked at the truly ordinary neighborhood,
Saw the contorted, distorted faces
Of the angry white people,
As I was surrounded by the Wall of Noise,
The continuous curses,
Endless epithets,
Resounding rage –
So pervasive, so ceaseless
That no single word was really distinguishable –
As I walked the gauntlet,
Surrounded by the Wall of Noise,
I thought,
“You couldn’t pay me to live here.”

Nobody paid me, and I never lived there.
But years later,
As a substitute teacher,
I was sent to Gage Park High School.
I discovered that the area had turned
Largely Hispanic.
I don’t know
What the neighborhood looks like now.
Now and then there’s something about it
On the news. Usually nothing good.
But I think honestly,
As I sit here remembering,
As I see again the faces
Of the angry white people,
As I see myself walking,
Surrounded by the Wall of Noise,
I think that even if,
By some miracle, Gage Park were to be
Transformed
Into a beautiful, ideal community,
You still couldn’t pay me to live there.

 

THE SEARCH FOR THE EXTRA ROOM
Sharon F. Warner

One of the strangest things that seems to have been passed down in my family is the search for the extra room. I think it began with my mother, but I can’t be sure of that. Maybe my grandmother—and others before her—wanted an extra room too. What I do know is that my mother used to dream about having more space—literally dream about it.

When my parents were living in an apartment that was barely big enough for the two of them (I was living with my grandparents in Wisconsin), Mom used to dream that she opened the door and discovered another room. I don’t know how often she dreamed this, but eventually it came true. My parents moved into an apartment that was big enough for them and me—and eventually my little brother.

When I moved out on my own, my first apartment was a studio. I moved from there to a slightly larger studio. After that I had apartments with more room-- and more rooms. One had a full sized kitchen; another had a kitchen and a dining room; and the apartment I lived in while I was in Detroit had a room I used as a study.

When I came home from Detroit, I moved into my present apartment. And I became the person who was looking for the extra room. My apartment has good heat in the winter, air conditioning in the summer, a good view, and wall-to-wall carpeting. But it consists of only a good-sized living room, a large bedroom, a small bathroom, and a theoretical Kitchen. It took me years—and I do mean years—to get used the fact that there is not at least one more room..

Recently I was talking with my niece, who is almost 12. I don’t remember how the subject came up, but she told me that she wished she could have two rooms of her own. Then she could use one as a bedroom and have the other to study and play in. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Here she is, the third generation (that I know of) looking for the extra room.

I hope I can live long enough, and be rich enough, and fortunate enough, to buy our family and estate, or a compound. So finally there will be room enough—and rooms enough—for all of us.

POINT OF VIEW
Sharon F. Warner

The Wrigley Building never looks quite real to me.
It’s built at odd angles,
So even if you’re standing in front of it,
It still looks slanted.
You never see it straight-on.
It looks especially unreal at night.
It really seems, then,
Not to be a building at all,
But only a cardboard cut-out,
A huge cardboard cut-out.
You can look at it and believe
That if you walked behind it
There would be nothing there,
Except maybe a couple of tabs
Holding it up.
Now, I have been inside the Wrigley Building.
I’ve entered it from different doors,
Been in it in the daytime and at night.
So I know it is
Full, complete, three-dimensional, substantial.
But still, when I’m outside of it,
The Wrigley Building never looks quite real to me.

COLORS
By Sharon F. Warner

The flag of a country is called its colors.
The uniform of a group or gang
is sometimes referred to as colors.
Our skins in varying shades
   of darker than white
   are colors.
I have some thoughts about colors.

People are showing their colors now,
Raising, waving, wearing the flag,
Painting their houses, their cars, their lawns,
Dressing up and even dyeing their pets
Red, white, and blue.
Some of these citizens seem to be saying,
“I’m more American than you are.”
Of course I always knew,
   even before they showed their true colors,
   that a lot of people thought
   they were more American than me.

So now, in this time of ultra-conspicuous patriotism,
I will salute the flag,
I will pledge allegiance,
I will even sing “The Star-Spangled Banner” –
I can actually hit most of the notes –
But I will not display the colors.
Because I am haunted by the shades of other colors.

The first flag had 13 stars,
   the one that was flying when this nation came to be,
   the one that waved when the Constitution was written.
The Constitution said that
Non-white men were equal to 3/5 of a man.
Women, white or non-,
were not equal to anything.
Color me invisible.

I think of later colors:
The stars and bars of the Confederate flag,
The flag that represented the states that wanted
to keep people of color as a source of free labor.
The Confederacy lost the Civil War,
   but the colors still fly –
   even at government buildings
   in various parts of the South.
I don’t understand that.
No government buildings
   fly the flags of Germany or Japan
   or any other conquered nation.
Who really lost the Civil War?
I know. We did.

The 20th Century saw colors of change.
The flag of our country was transformed
From 48 stars to 49, then 50.
More people of color in Alaska and Hawaii
   became official Americans.
There are other changes that could be made.
Puerto Rico could be – some say should be – 51st state.
But how would we arrange the stars?
And wouldn’t an entire country of brown people
   be maybe too much color for America?

America, America….
So many wars, so many colors.
Vietnam-agent orange. The Gulf war – black gold.
This year, as autumn was approaching,
   men wearing the protective coloration or passengers
   and packing a hidden agenda
   boarded four planes
   and turned them into guided missiles.
Three of the planes found their mark.
One was diverted when ordinary people
   showed their true colors as heroes.
The calendar still said summer,
   but fall is what happened
   to the tallest twin towers in our nation.
The September colors of yellow and red
   were the colors of fire and blood.
The stars and stripes were flown at half-mast.

Now we are at war,
not full-scale yet, but war nevertheless,
with terrorists of color.
I abhor what these people have done,
And I know that the President does not want
us to be seen as pale cowards.
So now “the rocket’s red glare,
   the bombs bursting in air”
   will be seen in far – distant places.
Now untold numbers of men and women
   are wearing the colors of camouflage,
   the colors of sand and earth and foliage.
They are being deployed to places
   where terrorists may be.

The terrorists who wounded our country
   are people of color,
but they are not like me.
Many Americans are eager for war,
   for payback, for revenge,
but I am not like them.
I love my color,
I will honor my country’s colors.
But I want myself and my nation to be known
   for more than the color of blood.

10/8/01

 

Contact Sharon F. Warner 

5307 S. Hyde Park Chicago, Illinois 60615

 (773)363-9580

email creativitymax@aol.com