History
This sestina was written for this week’s Three Word Wednesday prompt: to use the words “narrow”, “history”, and “spent”. Enjoy.
-Nicole
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History may record the firecracker chaos
born of steel wills clashing in these
Birmingham streets, the clashing of love
and hate, bigotry and tolerance, law
enforcers and law breakers. It may speak
of water hoses, dogs, nightsticks, angry
old men with fear-chiseled faces, and angry
women upholding banners of hatred; of chaos
created when men and women dare to speak
of a new future but are yet opposed by these
hoses, dogs, clubs, people, and unjust law;
and hands, shoulders, and wills joined in love,
forming bridges and walls. Yet of our love
history may not speak, but we still confront angry
words and stares outside, and ancient, dusty law
which all but forbids our love. I hold hot chaos
in my heart; it swirls and scalds, the result of these
wounds of wicked hatred. I don’t dare speak
lightly of our love, but I will dare to speak
to widen dark alleys within narrow minds. Love
compels me, love propels me, to speak these
truths, truths that bind me to you against angry
protest, even from my family. I’ll take the chaos,
I’ll take the pain, I’ll take the risk of offending law
and parents. I can only live by one law,
and that is the law of love; so I will speak
your name in public spaces and brace for chaos;
I will cling to you in daylight, and I will love
you. What else can I do? I’ve spent angry
currency in your defense, I’ve spent these
nights with you under moonlight, and these
daytimes by your side, watching as law
and people try to cut you down with angry
swords of words and denials. I now speak
of forever, of shoulders strengthened by love
as mountains to lean upon and weep, of chaos
spent like dollars when we made love. These
and other moments make me speak against
angry people, unjust law, and moral chaos.
Written 7/16/08
© 2008 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.
It’s sad that it comes down to one or the other, isn’t it?
Nicely done with this.
i am fortunate enough to have never lived in a place that was extreme in its racial boundaries… although separated at this point for a number of years and about 3500 miles,, i am legally married to a black man,, and to tell you the truth,, no one ever even noticed as far as i could tell…. i guess there is not the stigma in south florida that thee may be in other areas of the country… or maybe,, together, we were invisible….
Oh, this is beautiful! The rage and the passtion come through so clearly – masterful work.
I had never heard of a sestina before. All I can say is – Wow! You came up with this today, just like that? Now I’m dying to try this poetry form, too.
Prejudice is a mystery to me. I’m dumbfounded that people can be proud of their skin color. They didn’t work hard to master a skill; they didn’t run faster than someone else. They just happened to be born at a certain time, in a certain place, to certain parents. Because of this, they are proud? I just don’t understand that way of thinking.
nicole
nice job on his form–used it a couple of times and that was enough
and I have never lived in a place or time that wasn’t racially prejudiced–some places haven’t changed all that much
Thank you, everyone. I have been a little skittish of sestinas, having only written one, but I thought I would try again. And I wouldn’t say it was “just like that” – there are a lot of first attempts that I write for practice and never publish, either in my blog or elsewhere.
I wrote this based on the history I have read and heard of Birmingham in the 1960′s. I asked myself – what would an interracial couple face in this environment?
I myself have lived in areas that had a lot of racial divides and areas that did not. In my high school, it was very segregated – black kids sat in their own groups, white kids sat in their own groups. If you were biracial or multiracial with African ancestry (i.e. mulatto) as I am, you were de facto in with the black kids…which is in and of itself not necessarily a problem unless you lived in such a racially divided area as I did. I felt as if I had to split myself down the middle and walk on each side of the chasm. I refused to do this, and that made me a target at school.
While I have not encountered anything quite like this again, I still sometimes feel, depending on where I’m at and who I’m with, that I’m being asked to split myself in half and leave one of the halves behind. But I don’t regret being multiracial, and I would not change if given the opportunity. I expect society to change – a tall order and perhaps unrealistic, but logical given the fact that I and others like me are neither the problem nor the cause of it.
Anyway, I will leave the soapbox right now…thanks everyone for reading.
-Nicole
I don’t usually have the energy to comment on every post but I see you around. I’m glad I stopped by, you did a beautiful sestina. It was very hard back then but bigotry is still alive today. My girl’s were half Mexican in a rich school district and I’m not sure which was harder, being Mexican or not rich. I pulled them out to an area of equal economic status but then their race was still an issue.
Beautiful poetry.
nicole beautiful sestina.. i agree a reflection of passion and thaz what we have to have in order to be heard.. michelle/poefusion had a prompt awhile back on sestina… i can say i tried it once.. i don’t think people really understand prejudism unless they come against it… moved to a new neighborhood and it was like the world changed… i am of a hispanic background and it was pretty bad… name calling, spitting, that sorta thing… and that was in the suburbs of LA in the 60s… sorta like tammy sed half n half… we are a strange breed of humans… from childhood to adulthood… at a very young age i learned the dark side of indifference and hatred… i had no physical differences, two legs, two arms, two eyes… my skin color was… what shall i call it tanned 24/7..
Thank you, Tammy and piece of pie, for dropping by and sharing your stories. I think the pain still lingers for this kind of prejudice…and will continue to linger as long as prejudice lingers.
I hope in time we begin to, as human, see our similarities more than our differences.
-Nicole
I like that this poem is really about love, and not about racism. Had it been about racism, I think it would have negated itself. So, kudos on that. Hey, love is all you need eh? It’s the true balm.
Too true, Holly.
Thanks for stopping by.
-Nicole