Born on this day August 26, 1957, Nikky Finney, renowned poet and professor, has impacted the literary world with her profound narratives and richly layered poetry. Through her work, she has demonstrated the remarkable power of words to inspire change and influence perspectives. Her passion for social justice resonates in her verses, challenging readers to confront inequality and prejudice.
Finney’s work is characterized by a deep exploration of personal identity and societal values. As an African American woman, her poetry often delves into race, gender, and heritage, thereby presenting a unique perspective on these significant issues. Her ability to weave complex themes into compelling verse has made her one of the most influential voices in contemporary poetry.
In 2011, Nikky Finney’s talent was nationally recognized when she received the National Book Award for her collection of poems titled Head Off & Split. This prestigious honor affirmed Finney’s place in the literary canon and underscored the power of her work to inspire change. The collection’s poignant exploration of civil rights, personal freedom, and cultural identity resonated with readers and critics alike.
As a professor, Finney also impacts change through her dedication to educating the next generation of writers. She is committed to inspiring her students to use their voices to effect change through literature. Her passion for teaching is as evident as her love for writing, furthering the reach of her influence beyond the pages of her published works.
Nikky Finney’s award-winning poetry and teaching career exemplify the potential of literature to inspire change. Her work challenges societal norms and prejudices, encouraging readers to broaden their perspectives and strive for a more equitable world. It is through this powerful combination of skillful writing and passionate teaching that Finney continues to impact literature and society.
Heirloom
Sundown, the day nearly eaten away,
the Boxcar Willies peep. Their
inside-eyes push black and plump
against walls of pumpkin skin. I step
into dying backyard light. Both hands
steal into the swollen summer air,
a blind reach into a blaze of acid,
ghost bloom of nacre & breast.
One Atlantan Cherokee Purple,
two piddling Radiator Charlies
are Lena-Horne lured into the fingers
of my right hand. But I really do love you,
enters my ear like a nest of yellow jackets,
well wedged beneath a two-by-four.
But I really didn’t think I would (ever leave),
stings before the ladder hits the ground.
I swat the familiar buzz away.
My good arm arcs and aims.
My elbow cranks a high, hard cradle
and draws a fire. The end of the day’s
sweaty air stirs fast in a bowl, the coming
shadows, the very diamond match I need.
One by one, each Blind Willie
takes his turn Pollocking the back
fence, heart pine explodes gold-leafed in
red and brown-eyed ochre. There is practice
for everything in this life. This is how
you throw something perfectly good away.
-Nikky Finney
Curated by Jennifer
