Black Poetry : Why Do They Hate Me? Poem for a Nigerian Sistah

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by river, Mar 28, 2004.

  1. river

    river Watch Her Flow MEMBER

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    Why Do They Hate Me?
    Poem for a Nigerian Sistah

    My eyes shift and pan the top of my veil
    How shall I defy the contorted faces of bloodthirsty rage
    Upon my confession they released the man whose child metamorphs in my womb
    Perhaps they will grant him the honor of casting the first stone

    Why do they hate me?
    Why does the sight of me fill them with visions of death and destruction
    My ears twitch with their roars of rage but I refuse to quiver
    I refuse to wish I was in America
    I hate America
    In America the women dance naked on the beaches
    While one bare elbow justifies my immediate death
    In America a man's fingertips caress the small of a woman's back
    As they walk rib to rib without a wedding band
    I walk five paces behind the brute I was forced to marry
    The joy of American men is to love their women
    And with their mouths they worship at the canal of their nativity
    The joy of my men is to deny every need or love for me
    When an American woman dies her body is dressed and laid carefully in a bed of flowers
    I am thrown into a mass grave with my sister widows
    No one asks us if we are dead when we are buried
    All our life is wrapped up in our husbands
    When they die we are dead
    I hate America as the dead hate the living
    No one loves me and I love no one

    I duck the first stone
    Whirling up again I remove my veil
    Their rage is profound
    I remove my head covering
    The stones turn to cheese in their fists
    In their moment of perplexed rage
    I remove all my coverings and stand before them as naked as America

    "Is she not a sinner? Has she not utterly blasphemed God?
    May Allah smite thee wicked woman with many curses.
    A thousand curses on thy naked head"

    My sisters are watching. I must speak for them
    And for my sons who will one day respect my strength
    I know I will not see another sunrise but I will not die in vain
    "Allah has no greater curse than the curse of being born a woman of Islam. If I must die then I will die as I was born cursed and naked"
    I hold each breast in the palm of each hand
    "Which of rhese offends you?
    Do you fear that you might return to their comforting sustenance and cease to be men?"
    A stone crushes my teeth. Through blood and bone I continue
    "Can a man rise above the woman who gave hm life?
    If I am a cockroach what are you?"

    The stones come
    They teach me pain but they do not teach me respect
    I do not flinch away
    I stand tall--my breast beacons of defiance
    Until my broken bones betray me and crumble to the ground
    As darkness claims my brain I fling my arms wide
    Exposing to full view the things they despise
    The things that would set them free
     
  2. watzinaname

    watzinaname Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    I can't do this piece justice in my response, but here goes. To feel unloved and without a voice, must make one feel like the walking dead, and you expressed this ache so well here. Bravo.
     
  3. Bluewater

    Bluewater Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Hi :wave: welcome
    your poem,
    your thoughts your feeling
    flow on
    we reading
    can't help but feel
    this drop
    much love
    Peace
    BlueWater:heart:
     
  4. thatgirl74

    thatgirl74 Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Wow this piece is seriously deep.
    Nice work. Welcome to the forum
    and flow on.
     
  5. Nita

    Nita Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Welcome welcome river,
    Why???Hmm not sure if I have the answer for you, but this poem was very unique. I try to visualize when I read material and the words in this poem opened my mind to a whole nuther world. I love this drop,and I am lQQking to hear much more fro you sister river.
    Nita
     
  6. $$RICH$$

    $$RICH$$ Lyon King Admin. STAFF

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    deeply felt and heard sometime it can really be rough but
    we all whom hold grace and inner love seem to get out to
    a sweeter beings flow on i feel ya
     
  7. river

    river Watch Her Flow MEMBER

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    Ya'll are so luvin. Ima luv ya back!
     
  8. Joyce

    Joyce Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    This poem is profound. I will have to read it again and again. I am truly enlightened on some things.


    Looking through the eyes of Nigerian poet.


    Joyce
     
  9. angelicsage

    angelicsage Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    you captured the mindset of many women who are raised in such cultures...
    where they are denied the beauty of their womanhood...

    oh...and the stoning...

    I kept thinking about how historically it was used as a deterant
    and the horror of such a punishment...

    but I love the way you captured her liberation...not as a martyr
    but as a symbol to her sisters and sons...as strength, awareness,
    enlightenment...wisdom...all in the form of a *Woman*...

    while this piece has an air of sadness...it's POWERFUL...and
    effective in its message...Bravo
     
  10. Antar

    Antar Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    beautiful beautiful poem
    sister river
    man, to witness the majesty
    God bless

    one love,
    /antar
     
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