Matriarchal Patriarch | Neal Hall


THE FOLLOWING POEM BY NEAL HALL WON THE FIRST PRIZE OF ONE LAKH RUPEES IN WINGWORD POETRY PRIZE 2020

Matriarchal Patriarch is a poem about patriarchy being passed down through generations by the hands of the women of the family. According to the poet, patriarchy is matriarch. It has been passed on by the same hands that have raised the boys of the family which has also mistreated and mishandled the females of the house. He says it has been passed on by the mothers of the household to the sons of the house to mistreat his wife. The mother-in-law allows patriarchy to take over. The patriarchy is passed down through the activities of women; things done by mothers and mothers-in-law to their daughters and daughters-in-law. He blames the women of the house for the never-ending patriarchy that has allowed the men to mistreat the females over the ages.

The poem Matriarchal Patriarch is powerful in nature. It has dared to put the blame on the woman rather than the man for the passed on patriarchy. The poem is strong and well-built. It puts forward the face of the matriarch that has never been looked upon. The daughters and daughters-in-law have faced injustice over the ages by the hands of their husbands, fathers and brothers but in reality it has been by the hands of the mothers and mothers-in-law that has raised the same men and who have allowed the mistreatment.

fate is not in your stars

but in part and parcel in you,

that you are an underling

the hand he raises is made of

the same hand you raised

you gave birth to,

breast fed and raised

his hand

fault is not in fate

but in part, in you,

you, this grievous weight bearing arch

shouldering a patriarchal fist

it’s you who teaches the son

it's his hand that sees in plain view

your hand when you raise your hand

against his sister, your sisters,

your daughters-in-law

you can’t demand your yoke be lifted

while you yoke your sisters beneath you

fault is not in fate

it grows in you, you gave birth to,

breast fed and raised the man

who raises his hand

fate and fault are not constellations

but a distillation, a condensation of

culturalized, traditionalized condemnations;

birthed, breast fed to raise the back side

of its hand to your daughter’s face that she

comes to know his will and her lowly place

it’s you, your hard-handed, handiwork

mandating domestic vocations over

economic emancipation from his high-handedness

it's you, the pretty ones

and ones the pretty ones say

are not so pretty

it grows in you in hues of light,

lighter and the lightest of white,

it’s your black specter cast from your black sun

beneath which the contours of your

dalit sister’s darker darkness can’t shadow

your deep well waters of matriarchal

privileges of light and lighter without being

brutalized within inches of her life

it’s you, your lipstick’d matriarchal arithmetic

dividing, subtracting meager domestic wages on

a niggardly patriarchal abacus that does not add up

nor divide out evenhandedly from your hand

it’s you, your hand that demands your

handmaid sisters enter separate doors to sit

lowly your floors before separate plates,

separate knives, separate forks, separate glasses,

made to eat separately sitting your cold matriarchal floors

too many their bodies your floors,

sitting there

too many of their hopes your floors,

dying there

and you wonder why he raises his hand at you,

you, the mother of daughters and daughters-in-law,

you who desecrate every universal law of dignity

against your daughters, your daughters-in-law

fate is not in fault

and fault is not in fate

they’re seeds in you to grow in you,

your daughters, your daughters-in-law

who grow to become mothers and

mothers-in-law who violate every

universal law of humanity against

their daughters, their daughters-in-law

you can’t demand the man above you

to lift his yoke from you while you

yoke the woman beneath you

it’s his eyes of his hand

that watch your hand clench

a matriarchal fist of misogyny

it’s you who teaches the son

you who gave birth to,

breast fed and raised his hand

that demand the dowry,

burns your flesh,

acid splashes acid to you

and your daughter’s face

it’s your hands, it’s in your hands that

first uncle’s hands first rape your first daughter

for the first time and her tears cry to try

to tell you for the first time and your first reply

to her tear-filled eyes is to bear this and

bury it in the wounds of her womb and

never speak of it a second time

fault is not in fate

fate is not in fault

but in part, in you,

growing in you that

you are his underling

it grows in you, you gave birth to,

breast fed and raised the man

who raises his hand against you

fate is not in your stars

but in part and parcel in you,

that you are an underling of

your raised hand against you

About the poet

Neal Hall is the recipient of Wingword Poetry Prize 2020. He received his undergraduate degree from Cornell University. After earning an M.D. from Michigan State University, he took his surgical subspecialty training in ophthalmology at Harvard University’s Medical School. Dr. Hall’s poetry speaks not just to the surface pain of injustice and inhumanity but deep into that pain, we label and package into genteel socio-political-economic-religious constructs to blur the common lines of cause, that is our shared story.