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“Free societies...are societies in motion, and with motion comes tension, dissent, friction. Free people strike sparks, and those sparks are the best evidence
“I am not free while any woman is unfree, even when her shackles are very different from my own.”
― Audre Lorde
― Audre Lorde
“I believe that there will be ultimately be a clash between the oppressed and those who do the oppressing. I believe that there will be a clash between those who want freedom, justice and equality for everyone and those who want to continue the system of exploitation. I believe that there will be that kind of clash, but I don't think it will be based on the color of the skin...”
― Malcolm X
― Malcolm X
Midweek Motif ~ Freedom
Self-rule.
A cause for celebration.
For individuals, societies, and countries,
I act as if I am free since I meet my obligations and don't step on others' freedoms. But how free am I? And how do I know I am free?
The regime had understood that one person
leaving her house while asking herself:
'Are my trousers long enough?'
'Is my veil in place?'
'Can my make-up be seen?'
'Are they going to whip me?'
No longer asks herself:
'Where is my freedom of thought?'
'Where is my freedom of speech?'
'My life, is it livable?'
'What's going on in the political prisons?'
'Is my veil in place?'
'Can my make-up be seen?'
'Are they going to whip me?'
No longer asks herself:
'Where is my freedom of thought?'
'Where is my freedom of speech?'
'My life, is it livable?'
'What's going on in the political prisons?'
Your Challenge: Can a poem contain your sense of freedom? Find a way ~ through content and form ~ to describe an instance or ideal of freedom.
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
(engraved in the USA Statue of Liberty)
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
The courage to let go of the door, the handle.
The courage to shed the familiar walls whose very
stains and leaks are comfortable as the little moles
of the upper arm; stains that recall a feast,
a child’s naughtiness, a loud blattering storm
that slapped the roof hard, pouring through.
The courage to abandon the graves dug into the hill,
the small bones of children and the brittle bones
of the old whose marrow hunger had stolen;
the courage to desert the tree planted and only
begun to bear; the riverside where promises were
shaped; the street where their empty pots were broken.
. . . .
(Read the rest HERE at the Poetry Foundation.)
For those who are new to Poets United:
- Post your freedom poem on your site, and then link it here.
- Share only original and new work written for this challenge.
- If you use a picture include its link.
- Please leave a comment here and visit and comment on our poems.
(Next week Sumana's Midweek Motif will be Night.)
