Monthly Archives: March 2011

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Woman

Woman on a Brick Wall - RONE

Woman on a Brick Wall -- RONE

From in the shadow she calls
And in the shadow she finds a way
And in the shadow she crawls
Clutching her faded photograph
My image under her thumb
Yes, with a message from my heart
- Tori Amos

The day lights up, cold and blue. Cloudless.
Wings unfolding.
The light gives birth to a woman’s face, plastered onto brick,
watching the streets with two narrow eyes like bisected almonds that drip
faint streaks of branching red below. And she has seen
enough.
For this, she is weeping.
The great mystery of the decade:
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It Will Not Stop

There are birth pains,
and the water breaks in trillion-fold up the coastline spine,
an army marching to where water does not belong –
marching into the streets,
marching into the marketplace,
marching into the suburbs,
marching to obey a command invisible to the ears,
and like Mickey Mouse broomsticks,
it will not stop;
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Long Distance Poetry: The Awe In Autism Arts Exhbits

A newly cut video for my poem, “You Don’t See It”, will be featured at two Awe In Autism arts exhibits in April in New York state.

The events collectively are called The Awe in Autism: A Spectrum of Creativity. The first event is on Saturday, April 2 (World Autism Awareness Day) at the Glenwood Arts Center in Glenwood, NY, and will feature my work and that of several other Awe in Autism artists. The second event is on Sunday, April 10 at the Great Neck Arts Center in Great Neck, Long Island; this will feature the same Awe in Autism artists, plus a group of performers.

Sorry, I can’t show you the new video right now…however, I will post in on the Raven’s Wing Poetry YouTube channel after the events are over. I’m very excited at the opportunity for my work to be exhibited and to reach others and thank Awe in Autism for choosing to feature my work along with such talented artists on the autism spectrum.

-Nicole

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Fractured Armageddon

Written 3/8/11 and 3/9/11
© 2011 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.
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This poem was composed for the last We Write Poems Prompt, Make Your Own Wordle. I went with writing the poem inside the Wordle itself which the Wordle website spat back out at me — with some modifications and a lot of help from GIMP (an image manipulation program). The original Wordle is below, and I hope you enjoyed the poem. In case you didn’t know, you’ll need to click on the image to enlarge it.

-Nicole


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Stumble It!
Stumble It!

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Nightmares on Patmos

The flame of a question:
how does one wake from the nightmare
when the nightmare was knitted from strands stolen
from your own epidermis? You cannot possibly understand
the weight of a nation straining, back breaking
underneath a sky that someone told you was no longer yours
to claim: how that sky becomes leaden and brackish when
someone steals its leash and turns its teeth on you.
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Father and Christ

Here’s the broken body like bread, so many
jagged pieces together all dipped in wine: a scratch here,
a drop there. If spines and joints could be chopped apart
like so many broken sentences, this would be
a string of stuttered speech: the King’s oration,
born as a black-haired and fallow-skinned man but now a collection
of words busted apart and barely held together by ragged
strings. A lament of blood here, a dislocated shoulder
there.
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