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To Rivers Running to Freedom

To Rivers Running To Freedom To Rivers Running To Freedom (Apropos The Underground Railroad) With eyes wide open And souls burning, While they rested We were running— Running dreams To visions like rivers: Cascading estuaries; Wide open seas. Running dreams Under star decked heavens; In the rivers God has troubled free. Running dreamers Running and

Underground Railroad poems (several)

Details | Underground Railroad Poem | | https://www.poetrysoup.com/poems/best/underground_railroad Respect The Roots I’m thankful for slaves who never could understand, “Why do I work for people and get less than the bare minimum wage?” Why do I go through the pain and suffering if there’s no gain for my family or me? My greats never were

since stonewall

since stonewall   i remember the day  they triumphantly said “it’s okay to be gay in massachusetts”    my then-girlfriend and i were sitting in our high school’s gsa,  fingers flitting along forearms  before lips gripped each other, fists zipped together  like this was a catalyst   over the years, i saw it grow  from a

Testimony of Bazire

On Wednesday 6th April 1994, my mother came back from Kigali having returned from buying stock for her shop. She told us to pray. That the end for us had arrived. She told us that the former president had died. The next day interahamwe, some of them our neighbours, came to steal our belongings. On

“It Was the Very Worst Time”

“I went… there was an office in Prague where you had lists and lists of people who came back; I don’t know if it was in alphabetical order maybe, or dates when they came back, but you could check if you knew anybody who came back. And I went to see these lists every day,

“He Took Most of Your Life Away”

“The people put the slice of bread, like myself, underneath the pillow until the morning. You could hear during the night shouting. ‘You stole my bread. You stole my quota.’ Somebody stole each other’s slice of bread. So the law, unofficial law was, he had to be killed, by strangling. Who done it, either the

“The Cries and Screams”

“When we got to Auschwitz, which I didn’t know it was Auschwitz, I didn’t know nothing about it; I did not know about concentration camps, I did not know what was going on at all. When we got there they told us, ‘Raus, raus, raus!’ They didn’t let us take the clothes at all, they

Excerpt from “The Meridian” Speech

Perhaps we can say that every poem is marked by its own ’20th of January’? Perhaps the newness of poems written today is that they try most plainly to be mindful of this kind of date? But do we not all write from and toward some such date? What else could we claim as our

Deathfugue

Black milk of daybreak we drink it at evening we drink it at midday and morning we drink it at night we drink and we drink we shovel a grave in the air there you won’t lie too cramped A man lives in the house he plays with his vipers he writes he writes when