Borders and Crossings

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there is nothing worse
than a politically drawn border
it’s like a break in a limb
a break that won’t heal
yes you can put a cast on it
but it still won’t heal
yes you can take drugs for the pain
but after a while the drugs don’t work

Talk about what we know

….the border between Northern Ireland
and the Republic of Ireland …..

for a while there in the mid sixties
it was a border we crossed
to get condoms, Mars bars and copies of Playboy
(not available in the south)
then the minority tribe in the north
got tired of being kicked around
by the majority tribe in the north
(isn’t it always the case)
then came civil rights marches
Sunday Bloody Sunday
violence to counter violence
atrocity to counter atrocity
hard men talking about
glory, sacrifice, our patriot dead

down south we stopped crossing that border
and took the boat to England
to get our condoms, Mars bars and copies of Playboy
and, yes, abortions too
because it wasn’t all sweetness and light down south either
it wasn’t all little green people playing fiddles
and lepping up and down like a herring on the griddle-o
but that’s another story

eventually up north after nearly twenty years
reasonable people on both sides started to talk
agreements were reached and a lull ensued
but that low hum of anxiety is still there
the morning after atavism has not yet dawned.
Is this a lesson too late for the learning
or a lesson for our times?

I’m just talking about what we know
I’m just talking about what we know.

Over at Desperate Poets, the challenge was to write about Desperate Crossings. Also over at Dverse, Bjorn asks us to explore the use of the collective pronoun “we” in writing a poem. Bjorn points out that this way of writing is particularly useful in a political context.

Also it’s been a brutal week in the Middle East, which was another impetus for this poem.

23 thoughts on “Borders and Crossings”

  1. hedgewitch

    A poignant and potent read, and very timely as well. It’s patently obvious that “..the morning after atavism has not yet dawned..” and that we sit waiting in a darkness of our own making, lit by explosions and burning blood. Yet the dire for peace may yet someday bring peace…of a kind, at least. A thoughtful and skilled piece, as always, Jim.

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  2. Sherry Marr

    Oh Jim. “I’m just talking about what I know.” You took me right there. This latest – the level of brutality – is really more than my old heart can hold any more. I already was struggling. Your poem is so real – so well expressed. I am glad some sort of agreement was reached in Ireland. But I also know the anxiety – knowing everything can change in a moment when someone crazed with hatred or misguided fanaticism decides to hurl a bomb. What a world we have – knowing what a world it could be is what makes it harder to bear.

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  4. brendan563

    Nothing looks that different on either side of the crossing, just a line which says Miss October in her candy wrapper is available (OK, that’s significant enough) … stranger now that crossing, isn’t it, when it also demarcates England from the European Union.

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  8. dorahak

    So well crafted! The jaunty tone of the collective voice throws you off guard at first, and then the seriousness sinks through and powerfully so. The repetition in the couplet drives home the grim realism.

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  10. msjadeli

    You know a hell of a lot more about it than anyone craning their neck from a distance. I’m glad there is peace between north and south, even if a bit new and anxious for now.

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  11. Rajani Radhakrishnan

    True, it does feel like we’ve all been there (so many parts of the world) and know the consequences – and yet it would seem like we are perverse enough to have learnt nothing. The war is holding up yet another mirror – and the reflections are not pretty.

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