Poem One
(The grandmother’s Poem)
I
She said I’m stuck
in between two worlds
one where nothing bad ever happens
and one where there is blood,
beaded clots of wages paid
for sinful crimes committed
and not confessed or absolved.
In one world I smile as if
I want to belong in that land where
no one gives a damn about what it costs
to cross this great divide
but here where I live life is
raw and rude and though I look
for signs of forgiveness
all I hear in my mind
is the way the boys in the street
speak, their ghost voices swiftly rattling
off rhymes, with the staccato pace and heat
of those brief moments marking
too short lived lives
and I see childhood’s longed for
tallied up as just more lost innocence,
no longer some one else’s story,
but mine.
I am hollering here
in between these worlds
hollowing truth
previously unspoken
out of mouths screaming
from faces eternally
pointed towards home.
II
In one world people
who clearly couldn’t care less
blankly stare at the TV
filling the air with the same
bad news over and over again,
while in another world
rebels and martyrs live
disguised as everyday people
who chip away at
the shields that permit
secrets and lies to be.
Here I look through
another’s eyes
and hear the voices of
grandmothers who have
only known the starving place.
Inspired by a 1999 exhibit at the BMA in 1999,by the dynamic Artist Joyce Scott, called Kickin' It With the Masters. There were these "Jar Women" in the exhibit that carried on their hips and around their wastes symbols of various things that women and servants were responsible for in addition to raising their children, and living their lives. I was profoundly impacted by that exhibit, and even though I don't have my own children, could see myself in one of those images.
There were several poets including myself who were invited to write poems related to Scott's exhibit, and I chose what I resonated most with. I believe there are about 7 poems connected with that series.
Linda Joy Burke 2009
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