_ 
h
Generations
By Alexandra A. Belcher
I opened my eyes in a struggle
A battle lost along with my freedom
A journey long, away from home
With cries of fear and shouts of death
A path led by chains
In an unknown land
My son opened his eyes in a struggle
One of whips and one of fear
Laboring with heavy tasks
Demands and hatred seen in all eyes
Never advancing, remaining behind
In an unknown land
His son opened his eyes in a struggle
To gain the freedom much deserved
Fighting for a country not yet his own
But hoping for the best
In spite of all odds the fight continued
In an unknown land
His son opened his eyes in a struggle
To vote and to become part of a country
That had always turned its back
On those that had aided in its success
But persecution continued
In an unknown land
His son opened his eyes in a struggle
Against everyone who wanted to belittle him
Against the fear that flourished each day
Hand in hand they walked unsteady and unsure
But the fight was fought together
In an unknown land
His children open their eyes with freedom
To laugh to sing to enjoy
They reflected on the history battles and struggles
And welcomed those of their own
Because the battles had not yet ended
In this unknown land
***
The Tree
By Alexandra Belcher
A ritual has taken place
Leaving yet another shadow
On my branch
The shouts and screams
Have now subsided
Yet here still hangs this unknown shadow
That sways peacefully and gently in the wind
Minutes pass slowly
Seeming like hours and days
But the gentle shadow continues to sway
Stoic no longer afraid
From beside me a figure emerges
Tears streaming down her face
She says:
"One more lost in horror and pain"
She turns and slowly walks away
She walks as if the many shadows
Have been placed upon her shoulders
As if she carries all their pain
She grieves and, unlike the shadow,
Remains fearful and full of pain
As she disappears, the wind settles
The shadow has come to a rest
There no longer is any swaying
No more swaying
Just still with death.
***
"Eternal Vigilance"
by Julene Fleurmond
I hear a cry that pierces the air
And makes my heart leap.
The pain of injustice
Is in the eyes of the people,
The tensions of hate
Are felt by all who bear the outcome.
I can see the shape silhouetted
Against a lone crescent moon
A single motionless shape
Who has lost the battle
Against the giant oppressor
A soul who cries for help
Even though life is no longer within.
I taste the bitterness of inequality
The disgusting concoction of discrimination
The sour liquor of prejudice
The nauseating banquet held
To slaughter and to deface
The hope and dreams
Of my people.
I can smell the stench
Of death and dying
A passion runs through my veins
Like a blazing wild fire,
Ready to engulf the injustice
And to restore the dignity
Of the people who are lost
In the horrors of this night.
I can feel the power
Surging through my hand
As I take up my sword
And begin to smash down the barriers
And the anguishes
That have held my people down for so long.
Slowly but surely
The walls begin to crumble
As my pen fiercely slashes the pages
And I reveal to the world
My hope of liberty in my writings.
A liberty only accomplished
Through the cost of ceaseless surveillance.
t
h
Lynch Song
thby Dadjie Saintus
She looked on from a high place
And though the breeze was beckoning gently
Her eyes remained transfixed on the horror below
As a fury she had never yet known mounted within her
He was struggling against their brutal grip
His bulging eyes screaming the words of indignation and despair
That echoed from his so-called liver lips as a hoarse moan
And he fought fiercely, like the beast they said he was,
Though inside he was already conquered
By the indomitable wall of Ignorance, mirrored
In their contorted faces and hungry eyes...
While the crude symphony of their vulgar slurs
Spiraled exponentially into a fateful climax
Of one final, deafening roar
As they reveled in their savage triumph
In the silence that ensued,
She trembled slightly, questioning
The lone pair of eyes, so utterly blank
Pleading, nevertheless, to her now
Summoning cries for Justice and Humanity that swelled in her breast,
So that the mad desire of testimony burst forth
From a mouth that was not a mouth,
And a voice that could never be understood
And afterwards, warily, the dove spread her wings
At last heeding the call of the tender breeze,
And soared away, far, into the air,
Her frosty feathers glistening in the pure sky
| ___ | |
| _ __ | |