Bricks
Silence.
There are things we must not say.
There was a time when the law said
a woman who speaks out
against a man shall have her mouth
crushed with fire bricks.
There was a time when the law said
adulterers must be bound
and thrown in the river, even
a woman who was raped.
Her husband could pull her out
of the river, if he so desired,
while the king himself
could save a man he valued.
I am tired and heavy with things
I must not say. This silence slides
like grains of broken brick
between my teeth.
Arthur, with affectionate regret,
did not choose Guinevere
over law or flames. Would you
pull me from the river
if they tossed me there
against my will?
That is the question.
Oh, I remember: I am not
supposed to take things personally.
But I am the daughter of daughters
of women who were miraculously
neither drowned nor burned.
They have trained me with such memory
that you no longer have to crush
my mouth with bricks. All you have
to do is look at me a certain way.
This silence is not easy to undo.
How I hate this silence.
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Author's Note
I'm posting this poem in honor of Dr. Christine Blasey Ford.
It's the Sixth Song of Despair from a series of poems called Thirteen Love Poems and Twelve Songs of Despair, about a feminist in love with a man in a world that is poisoned by patriarchal toxins. I had planned to post them in order sometime in the future, but this one seems to be so timely that I am posting it now.
The poem was first published in Blue Lyra Review and is part of my 2018 collection Xanthippe and Her Friends.
Other stories by Beate Sigriddaughter
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Great power.
Sublimely sad. Would that my gender had risen sooner beyond its tribal imperatives. Much sooner.
Bravo! Powerful resonance. "I am the daughter of daughters of women...." It is miraculous. Never thought of it exactly like that.
Timely indeed. Such a strong piece of writing *
"I am tired and heavy with things
I must not say."
So well said. A sad truth.
Timely and true, powerful.
Just wonderful writing. I especially enjoyed ...
"I am tired and heavy with things
I must not say. This silence slides
like grains of broken brick
between my teeth."
Well done. Fav'ed!
It's been going on for 5,000 years, this fearful silence. Thank you, Gary, Mathew, Dianne, Foster, Erika, Kitty, and Javed for listening and hearing. One woman elsewhere commented: This is the answer to men who ask, with brick in hand, "why didn't you say something sooner?"
Wow! Important and powerful.
"I am tired and heavy with things
I must not say."
Honor to you and her and death to silence.
Like David said, "Death to Silence."
Great work, Beate.*
This is a most compelling piece of writing, Beate. Excellent. Thank you so much for sharing it.
As I see others before me have picked up on
'I am tired and heavy with things
I must not say.'
resonates so strongly.
Dear Darryl, David, Tim, and Ellie: thank you for reading and letting this move you.
"But I am the daughter of daughters
of women who were miraculously
neither drowned nor burned."
An important poem. Thank you, Beate.
*
Thank you, Bill.
Thank you, Bill.
*
"This silence is not easy to undo.
How I hate this silence."
Powerful work, Beate. Yes. *