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Struggle for Equality

A picture is worth 1,000 words
by

Jana Fabri

on 4 March 2010

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Transcript of Struggle for Equality

The Struggle for Equality
A picture is worth 1,000 words I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings – Maya Angelou
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind
and floats downstream till the current ends
and dips his wing in the orange suns rays 
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage
can seldom see through his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied 
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn 
and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied 
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom. CHILDREN'S RHYMES – Langston Hughes
By what sends
the white kids
I ain't sent:
I know I can't
be President.
What don't bug
them white kids
sure bugs me:
We know everybody
ain't free.
Lies written down
for white folks
ain't for us a-tall:
Liberty And Justice — 
Huh For All? WARNING - Langston Hughes
Negroes,
Sweet and docile,
Meek, humble and kind:
Beware the day
They change their mind
Wind
In the cotton fields,
Gentle Breeze:
Beware the hour
It uproots trees The Long Road To Inauguration, Part I: Emmett Till's Reckoning – Roy Barnes
The bullets from hate pierced and mangled one of Chicago's own
leaving him for grisly death to keep the minority fearful
in the ticking and explosive rages of The South's Deep End
(the magnolias remaining silent over this and other countless terrors)
But Till's Ghost escalated the movement for equality:
a struggle to change the prevailing winds
of a nation's ignorant wrath against Civil Rights...
Rosa's stand in the bus,
with the words of and actions of Gandhi
guiding the Atlanta preacher...
Victories and political-social winds shifting,
but for a Black to lead the great Republic
was like a fantasy as distant
as the setting sun...
The Long Road To Inauguration, Part II: The Drive Home
I thought about the times
when I've heard little Black boys and girls
say "I'll be President of the United States!"
Those words seemed so unrealistic
-like empty fancies of hope
dissipating into the air like trail-less vapours
But as I drove home the night
before the inauguration
the radio blared out angelic voices in choir
proclaming in evensong "We shall overcome...someday"
Knowing that someday was tomorrow
I still couldn't believe it...
President Obama
President Obama
President Obama
I muttered out loud
in the confines of my solitary drive
It doesn't seem real:
It's still like a dream to my conscious senses
though it has come true --
coming full circle via Barack:
rising and fulfilling itself out of Chicago's losses, pangs and travails
The next sun would rise to a new beginning.
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