Two Poems: When we talk of stolen sisters & America de'Colonizer
JESSICA MEHTA is a Native (Cherokee) American award-winning poet, academic (current Ph.D. student in English), poetry editor, author, and artist. For her website. For more information at Poetry Foundation
When we talk of stolen sisters
By Jessica Mehta
When we talk of stolen sisters
we talk of bodies gone to ghost
or given back for goodness—as if
we are
sweets snatched from superettes
discovered post-wash in sticky pockets.
When we think on stolen girls
we imagine
pluckings from roadsides,
wild
flowers wafting honey-sick. Passed ‘round,
stuffed in vases to wilt,
before given back to ground.
When we hear of stolen daughters
we listen
with colonized minds. Settle
into armchair arguments,
share, shake heads, repeat.
When we read of stolen women,
we say,
But it’s not me, my cousin,
my child, my life—not really
(until it is). When they speak
of taking us
it’s not an outing, a going,
a coming back ‘round again.
Stolen implies ownership, so
who then owns these sisters?
America de’Colonizer
Antipodes are an experimental form of poetry with roots in both palindromes and reverse poetry. However, unlike reverse poems which can be read forward and backward line by line, the antipode can be read forward and backward word by word. Poems are intended to be read with the original version on the verso page and the reflected antipode on the recto page. Given our formatting limitation, the reflected antipode follows the original version.
De-colonizer: America—we’re coming. You are
too prideful, too vain. Your destruction bred
warriors. Overseas invaders brought ships
full and pulsing. For generations, lost children
remain reticent. To listen, says Creator, you need
ancestors. Homecoming, we’re nobility displaced.
Dethrone well-mistaken kings. You’re uncertain still;
that’s okay. Washing white, the stain’s disappearing
now. Missing women, murdered women, all we’re
saying is Creator understands. Who are we?
Strength of centuries—come. Be Natives.
*****
Natives become centuries of strength.
We are who understands Creator is saying
we’re all women murdered, women missing. Now,
disappearing stains the whitewashing. (Okay, that’s
still uncertain). Your king’s mistaken, we’ll dethrone
displaced nobility. We’re coming home. Ancestors
need you, Creator says. Listen to reticent remains.
Children lost generations, for pulsing and full
ships brought invaders—overseas warriors
bred destruction. You’re vain, too, prideful, too.
Are you coming? We’re America, de’Colonizer.