sounds that come from the soul are always the same
free
open sounds
giving
the kind that reach out
and touch—
that’s what our sisters did/minimum
touching maximum/sharing oppression
and the wish for its
removal…
feeling those sounds
seeing them felt on others
watching faces smile for the first time in months—
getting high—on the natural power of the
people to resist/to smile/to laugh/to sing
shout/love/give
even here…
wild hair, funky guitar
long hair funky voice (someone said bessie smith
came to mind)
hair—all lengths, legs, arms, smiles, music—SISTERS—and us…
raggedy peacoats, cotton dresses, rocking,
swaying
enjoying it
screaming
crying too—even if not too many
let the tears fall free
us—black/brown/white/poor—SISTERS
and it was all a total exchange
of energy
communication
even if we did not share words
we all knew their soul—songs were
saying
we understand
we know
we can see what amerika is doing
to you—mother/daughter/child/woman
of oppression—
we can see, they sung –
and our voices answered their guitar
horns flute—voice—cowbell—tambourine demand for freedom with an unspoken’ right on
…a feeling there that one day—soon—
all people will be free…and
we left
stronger
able to smile (for a moment)
till we returned to
rules that degrade
schedules that destroy sanity
racism that they cannot
sexism that rapes us of our womanhood…
and the locks, keys, windows, walls, doors,
threats
warnings
bribes that harden our hearts and
chain our souls….
the time
must be
seized
venceremos!
