Make Me A Stone

B.L.P. Simmons

                              “May it please God, if we could go back,
                              and he make me a stone rather than a woman.”
                              Rural Afghan woman.

May God make me a stone:

our men never speak of us 
we, their beasts with breaking backs

feet baked by cold, all cracked,
fires to feed that burn our eyes

rags that tatter, the all-hiding veil. 
That erasing veil making ghosts of us

But please, not a stone
to break a face, nor hope,
not a stone to hurt.

A stone to grind
a stone to point a path
a stone of silence in starlight.

I’d rather the wind and rain
the snow and ice
earth’s rumbling core
tumble me to dust.

A stone alone does no harm,
may the hand that holds me
remember this.  I forgive the stone.



B.L.P. Simmons, was born in St. Lucia, W.I., studied in London, lived in California, resides in Central America. She writes in English, Spanish, translates Spanish to English. Her work appeared Bay Area Poets Coalition14, American Poetry Journal(nominated for Pushcart Prize), Poui: Cave Hill Literary Annual(University of West Indies, Barbados), Sand Hill Review, riverbabble 13, riverbabble 23, reverbabble 26, Cuts from the Barbershopanthology of Bay Area poets, The Call: An Anthology of Women’s Writing 2009. Featured at N. California poetry gatherings (including Spanish poetry), and in Costa Rica. 2 chapbooks: “My Body Forgot Snow”, “En Otro Idioma”, “Selected Poems” on CD.

     riverbabble 33 table of contents    |   Write to the Author   |  Go to the Archives