The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poetry Break, 7/9/08

[BlueIris]

"Miscegenation"

In 1965 my parents broke two laws of Mississippi;
they went to Ohio to marry, returned to Mississippi.

They crossed the river into Cincinnati, a city whose name
begins with a sound like sin, the sound of wrong, mis in Mississippi.

A year later they moved to Canada, followed a route the same as
slaves, the train slicing the white glaze of winter, leaving Mississippi.

Faulkner's Joe Christmas was born in winter, like Jesus, given his name
for the day he was left at the orphanage, his race unknown in Mississippi.

My father was reading War and Peace when he gave me my name.
I was born near Easter, 1966, in Mississippi.

When I turned 33 my father said, It's your Jesus Year—you're the same
age he was when he died. It was spring, the hills green in Mississippi.

I know more than Joe Christmas did. Natasha is a Russian name—
though I'm not; it means Christmas child, even in Mississippi.

—Natasha Trethwey

[CaliforniaPeggy]

1. My dear BlueIris...

Interesting bunch of lines here...

I'm not sure of their meaning, though...

Still, I like it!

I love being exposed to all these authors...

Thank you!

:hi:

[BlueIris]

2. I thought we should have a poem dealing with a positive aspect of the Civil Rights movement.

Unlike yesterday's (I'm still surprised I didn't get massively flamed for that).

[BlueIris]

3. Kick.

[BlueIris]

4. Kick.