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Poet Laureate Ted Kooser in Syracuse
"Community Life in Poetry"
a year of poetry, a day of celebration, a constant community voice

Poems from "Struggles"

Victims of American Society

My skin color is about ten shades darker
My eyes night dark, teeth dove white
My name has been passed from generation to generation
I hold a past books cannot come close to telling
I am a victim of American democracy

My great-grandparents lived in the anguish of slavery
My grandparents following in their footsteps
My parents, they got lucky with the Thirteenth Amendment
But what paper said and what people did were two different things
They too were victims of American democracy

Who decided that we would be the oppressed?
Did they know it would go this far?
Does the Ku Klux Klan realize their damage?
Did the Jim Crow laws intend to hurt us?
Who know I would be a victim of American democracy?

We were the oppressed, we are the oppressed
My family, Dred Scott, Homer Plessy, and Linda Brown
White society has weakened our leaders and activists
John Brown, Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks, and Malcolm X
We are the victims of American democracy

Peaceful Plantation

“The beautiful south,

The gorgeous land”

All of this made by the black man’s hand.

“Oh, wondrous house,

Oh, pretty lace.”

But the dark woman who made it is gone with no trace.

“Look at the beautiful gardens,

Look at the trees.”

A black boy hung there once, but not by his knees.

“How clear the air is,

How sweet it smells.”

To think once black smoke carried painful yells.

“Gaze at the stonework on this here path,

they used to be gray but now they’re stained by mud.”

An interesting shade really, the color of blood.

Finally

Finally united
Finally as one
Finally together
Finally it’s done

We now unite
With music, song, and dance
The time has come
Here is our chance

Finally united
Finally as one
Finally together
Finally it’s done

Celebration was there
Through Urban migration
Our heritage to bear
Without even a care

Finally united
Finally as one
Finally together
Finally it’s done

We were now led
By intellectual radicals
A new ,movement has spread
Across urban New York City

Finally united
Finally as one
Finally together
Finally it’s done

The time has come
\For the New Negro Movement
Harlem has become
A center of experiment

Finally united
Finally as one
Finally together
Finally it’s done

Me and My Mama

They came in the night,
The darkest of dark,
They came,
And stole my mama,
I heard her scream,
So I hid,
Trembling under my bed.

When the mornin’s light shone bright,
I crawled out,
And sneaked room from room,
Quiet as a mouse.
The house was dead,
Nothing moved,
Nothing stirred.

Opening the front door,
I gasped,
There on the once unmarred white paint,
Were three letters in bright red,
KKK.
Was it red paint or blood?
Was it my mama’s blood?

I screamed,
Then I ran,
I ran as fast as my little legs would let me,
I ran into the woods,
My feet began to hurt from the fallen branches,
But still I ran,
All the way through I ran,
Then the clearing
The place my mama took me so I could climb the pretty tree.

My mama would come here,
I knew it,
She would come.

I looked up at the tree,
And there, on the lowest branch hung something.
A body!
It was a body!
I studied the face,
it was my mama.

“Mama, whatcha doin’ up there?”
I called over and over.
She didn’t answer.
I went and touched her foot,
Maybe she was just sleepin’,
“Mama come on, wake up,”
I called again,
She started swingin’ from my touch,
And still she would’t wake.

“Mama,” I cried,
I sank down,
And cried,
And cried,
“Don’t leave me Mama!”

“Little girl, little girl, little girl,”
I heard the chant,
I turned and there they stood,
Three men with three white letters on their clothes,
KKK
They’se the ones that killed my mama.

I tried to run,
But they caught me,
They caught me jus’ like they caught my mama,
They caught me.

Now, I’m with my mama in heaven,
She was waitin’ there for me,
She smiled and said,
“Don’t worry baby,”
We are free,
Thank the lord,
We are free.

Freedom Road

This life I lead
Is no life at all
My heart yearns to break free of the chains
Chains that have bound my people
To this land
To this life

I am bound to one master
Until such time that I die,
Or am sold to yet another

Why am I held captive?
Why must I stand here and watch my people suffer?
Why can I never have my own?
It is because of my skin
My skin isn’t like my master’s
His is smooth and white
And mine,
Is black and scarred

I do as I’m told,
I work much,
Eat little,
And try to feel nothing.

But no more.
My heart refuses to be chained any more.
And my feet yearn to fly
They yearn to fly so bad,
The pain of wanting is almost more than I can bear

So tonight,
While the master sleeps
I will free my feet
And let them fly
For once I let go,
There’s no going back
I must flee
To the land they call Canada
For only in Canada can I truly find freedom

Others before me have escaped,
But they scuttle from house to house
Hiding by day
And traveling by night
On the underground railroad

But I hear it’s a long way to Canada
And with so many people
It’s easy to get caught
So I travel alone

The day has come to an end
And so must my time here
I wiggle my toes
The tingling in them tell me that they’re ready
Ready to flee this land of the oppressed
They are ready to fly
Fly over freedom road

The Holocaust

This is where we reside,

A cold muddy pit

It the only place left to hide.

Still in death we run,

From the memories of our ends

And the barrel of the gun.

The fear for our children lives on

As they fight where we left off

Their ancestors long forgone.

For those few who survive

Let us never be forgotten

And our sorrow will thrive.

I beg that you keep up the fight

Against our ignorant oppressors

To leave them forever in the darkness of Night.

We who died in the Holocaust

Will never truly be lost.

Each of our bones tell a story

Of our past that was once so gory.

They stood where most would hide
An immeasurable courage
by simply refusing to ride

Ignorance in the form of clenched fists
And Racism sprayed out of a hose
Because the memory of the dead so sorely missed

Till, Parks, King, and many others
They fought an American Revolution with non-violence
They fought with a bond like brothers

Their fight lives on today
for the fires of ignorance have yet to be extinguished
And until then, we’ll all hold our “Hurray”

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