The Revolution Poem

soil_ride soilride at
Sat May 20 06:11:39 MDT 2000


Bogota, Colombia 1980:
I have memories of walking aimlessly among markets
Late at night a little boy containing not a single thought
Of having a parent or loved one.

He holds sister tight in his arms
On orphange steps grasping nothing but each other.
Falling in love with a black maid
Who washed us outside with basins and buckets of warm water

My memories
Grasping nothing at all
Of who I am
And where I came from

My heart bleeds when I found there
Was no way to find the truth
Concerning our birth or how we came to be in such a place.

In america
I went to school. I spoke english.
I loved America.  I want to be American mama!

People began to ask me
"Weren't you born somewhere else?"
I wanted so bad to wipe the darkness
>From my skin.  To speak nothing of where I came from

I lied to my friends. I lied to Colombia.
I denounced any relations with her...
I hated anyone who was dark as me and even darker.
They were not beautiful.  They were as wretched as I was.

In this wretched heart, the revolution refused to dance...

When I was little
Everything scared me to death.
In my dreams devils chased me and sadness followed
Years of American history filled me to the point
Of breaking me molding me

My American mask cracking under its smile
I found that I was somebody else's shadow
And it broke me and I was empty for
A history to claim my own.

In this broken heart, the revolution refused to dance...

I saw her lovely face for the last time
Saw the cop's badge for the first time
Saw my sentimental values decline
And everyone telling me
Jesus loved me

Jesus went alone in the desert and fasted
I was restless and wandered into the desert of unhappiness.

Jesus hungered and the devil tempted him
I hungered for history, love, sex, something to fill me
The devil tempted me

Jesus stood upon the high temple and looked down
The devil was with Jesus
I stood upon a cliff and thought was it worth it?
The devil was with me

Jesus stood with the devil on a mountain
The devil showed jesus all the kingdoms and riches of the world
In my social and economics classes and on chalkboards
The devil showed me all the kingdoms and splendors of the world

And we both refused it.

Jesus came out and rested
I came out and began to read and write

I began to read Fanon about wearing masks and a small fire burned
I listened to the words by Zach on oppression and freedom
And a voice moved me to tears and anger
Thought about Gandhi's words and actions, his path to liberating India-pure
And Malcolm's fury in his speeches and the transformation he made brought
James Baldwin talking about his brother and father in Harlem, sad and filled
with fire
And Che's story of his trip across Argentina to the Cuban Revolution
To his death in Bolivia 1967
I followed Zapata's story from Morelos to the Uprising of Chiapas 1994
I listened to the humanism that ignited like fire from El Sup's writings
from with deep in The Lacondon Jungle and the Mountains of Mexico's
Reading Zinn's account of history from every person that has
Been oppressed through their eyes
I talked to revolutionary feminists of the Chicano Brown Berets who struggle
For social justice today
For a better future tomorrow
And hearing Chomsky speak of the American New World Order...
And getting sick and down with Morello's hearthrob passion with his
relationship to the Guitar and to the revolution
A relationship I can relate with...
When I came to Marx and Engels, I trembled
For the devil told me of something different, to fear them.
Karl Marx and Jesus were both revolutionaries to me

My heart longed to be in the revolution.
But the revolution was already standing by me
Waiting for me

Jesus said,
"Those who seek should not stop seeking until they find.  When they find,
they will be disturbed.  When they are disturbed, they will rule, and when
they rule, they will rest."

And in my dreams
Someone told me
"Don't ever let someone define
and confine your revolution.
Those who do have never
had a revolution or
they had the revolution
and lost it."

I remember what Jesus said.
Take the smallest seed, a mustard seed,
and plant it.  A seed of awakening.
When it grows, its branches will cover the whole earth.
Jesus said the Great Tree is like Kingdom Of God.
Everyone has a seed of revolution inside them.
It is a matter of when it is planted, awakened and when it begins to grow.

And it is the cracks, the rocks, the weeds the lack of nourishment
The lack of care that will destroy the kingdom of heaven inside you.

To dream and to live the dream
Are two different things,
But the revolutionary
Brings heaven to earth.

Jesus after he rested, and when he was ready, went out into the world
And took care of the sick, the weak, the hopeless, the yearning to breathe
I look out from where I stand and all my books
And I realize that my lover, my relationship with the movement
Has whispered in my ear.
"It's that time of year."

That my revolution and my heart is ready.

The Revolution is finally dancing with me.

Follow me.

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