Two Poems by Jubi Arriola-Headley
The following are excerpts from Jubi Arriola-Headley’s original kink, which is available from Sibling Rivalry Press.
Author’s Note:
Let me begin here: Blackness is never a monolith. I’m uncomfortable with the word nigger in all its variations. I’ve never felt the desire to incorporate nigger, nigga, etc. into my daily speech. It’d feel inauthentic for me to do so.
That said I respect, honor, and make space for other Black folks to use this word as they see fit. When Black folks speak the word, depending upon the person speaking and the context in which they speak it, I feel affirmed, uplifted, loved, enraged, heartbroken, amused, accused, turned on, energized, saddened and/or overjoyed.
To those of you who are not Black: you may not ever, ever, speak this word. And I won’t speak it. That’s my choice. But you’ll still hear these poems of mine in someone’s voice when you read them. Whose voice will it be? And why? Why does that voice sound the way it sounds? That’s some work you’ll either do, or not. I think, though, if you do, it’ll be uncomfortable, but you’ll come out the other side – not necessarily better for it, but rather clearer about who you are and what you believe.
FAQ: Proper Use of Syntax in Poetry
Fractal
The point I’m trying to make is that__ is fractal. Like broccoli,
like snail shells. Like a hurricane. To attempt to classify
as noun or verb is to miss the point. is process, is function, is
spinning snowflakes out of chaos. & it turns out that snowflakes—
most start off simple, it’s only later they aim for the infinite. (Not
that infinite is a sorry destination. If you’ve gotta make a rest stop
somewhere in this knowing, infinity seems as good a place as any.)
Point is,_, being fractal, can replicate, again & again.
Please indicate which wound best fits in the emptiness provided.
a. God
b. rage
c. memory
d. resistance