B-2930…269-265

By CL

Time is often the destroyer of a young man’s dreams.
Hope is frequently the only nourishment for an emaciated soul.
How did you endure an era so blatantly inhumane,
Where a child’s only crime is being born a Jew?

I think back to my own hardship as a “Lifer” in prison.
When dark thoughts ravenously clawed at my will.
Threatening to drag me into the depths of hopeless abandon,
As the elusive hope of freedom took on a mystical quality.

A Lucky Child spoke to me in ways never before.
Tears of mine followed your march on frostbitten feet.
Injecting into my spirit an Odd Nansen state of being,
I pray for the moral strength not to compromise my dignity.

You have shown that when a person is subjected to terrible suffering,
That experience should teach us how to empathize with all people in need.
With Mutti’s unrelenting hope and love, Mundek’s courageous sacrifice …
You reclaimed your name from the number you were given.

 

Dedicated to:
Mr. Thomas Buergenthal
Survivor of Auschwitz death camp,
And author of A Lucky Child

My Struggle

By AF

They lock us in these cages
And throw away the key
Say it ain’t no hope for me
I was only sixteen
When they gave me eighteen
Man if they really really knew
All of the s*** we go through
Maybe they’ll provide a better way
And lil bruh still be here today
These streets is unsafe
Or do they really even care
That this s*** is unfair,
We living in the slums, so you better not run
Cause they’ll shoot you in your back
And justify your death
Say I took away his breath
‘Cause I thought he had a gun
And wasn’t nothing in your hand
Now do you see what I’m saying?
History keep on showing us
That America don’t accept us
But don’t listen to lil ole me
Just watch and see
Trump about to show you
That this ain’t that land of the free
Nor the home of the brave
Money, lies and graves is what this country really about
And how it was made…

Speak Child Speak

By MS

For my daughter

Speak, child, speak,
hold not your tongue because the question that you ask,
the answer that it brings may be the solution that saves us all

Speak, child, speak
Because ignorance is not bliss,
it is apathy to the mind.
It is the residue of stagnant thoughts that destroys itself fully
with the passions of time
& stagnation is death to young & old minds.

Speak, child, speak,
your voice may be the one that touches the world & shapes reality
into a paradise that women, men, & children may grow & peacefully live in.

Speak, child, speak,
Because my voice is old & un-remembered.
It is the weeping in the bowels of coffin ships & it is the creak of rope & wind
& silent kingdoms swaying in a sultry southern breeze,
it is the shackles of falsehoods binding me to inferior thoughts of mental slavery,
It is the sound of a fast life lived & lost in court rooms
silently weeping in cells trying to escape my self-created hell.

Speak, child, speak,
Because you are the Grace of God & the Dreams of a Nation.

SPEAK, CHILD, SPEAK

Drumming Pains

By TO

Listen to the pains of the beating drum
Mental Anguish
Ba.dum.ba.dum.dum
The sounds of a mind taking a beating
Sent to the ghettos, stripped from their kingdom
Bum.Dum.Ba-dum.bum
Its hide screams at every beat that comes
Ba.Dum.Ba.Dum.Dum
Rhythm & Blues; Pain never sounded so good
Embracing our culture, if they only understood
Ba.dum.Ba-dum.bum
Heavy bass on the beat soothes my mind on these streets
Nighttime, my baby went to sleep on my heartbeat
BA.BUM.BA.BUM.BA.BUM
Voluptuous hips rock to the heavy beat of the soul
Synchronized to the sound of its own
Whum-bum.Whum.bum.bum
A powerful nation, the beat of its throne
An unstoppable machine feared cuz they know
Ba.dum.Ba.dum.Bum
That soulful beat passed down for centuries
Voices are heard from lungs never empty – full of life
These drumming pains have history
Ba.dum.Ba-dum.Bum
So next time you hear heavy bass or that bellowing drum
Listen to its spirt; that beat where I come from
Ba.dum.Ba.dum.Bum

Human Nature

By SAT

Every day I struggle and ask are we fighting for a cause or just because.
Ain’t no sense in raising your fist if you don’t even know what you’re fighting for.
But I’m scared to put my hands down to keep from getting hit in the face.
I won’t just brace up against anything, but I refuse to turn the other cheek.
There’s a very thin line between caution and paranoia,
but I’m not gonna keep looking over my shoulder
and I won’t keep peeking out the blinds.
Outside of my windows there’s someone peeking inside.
I keep telling myself to pay attention and stay focused.
I can’t afford to lose my mind; my heritage gives me pride.
Cause my ancestors died for me to live.
I’m equipped with a mustard seed that moves mountains and I’ll prove happiness is priceless.
To be confused will cost you to become self-righteous and self-centered.
My feet are cemented in the streets.
A product of the fiend my mother was and she was never there…but my father was?
And that’s a flipside of the black family portrait.
We are depicted amongst society as failures.
We’ve inherited hell on earth cause heaven ain’t within crumbs distance.
Unless, I put my brothers and sisters on my shoulders to get closer to grab the ribbon in the sky.