6.04.2010

ProClaim

Pro- Claim

 

Where’s the monument to surviving the ghetto

 

We only celebrate independence

To becoming dependent on this beloved country

 

We hold cookouts on courtyards

Of public housing named after dead presidents

Who never wanted us residents of these blessed blocks

 

We have holidays and days off

Commerate the closing of our culture

 

So where to run when we need

Moments of sincerity amongst the insanity

 

Let’s claim every corner in honor of fallen soldiers

Whose shadows hang over our broken spirits

 

The Bronx River is like Rio Grande de Loiza

You might still see Julia De Burgos

Screaming at the wind They Lie They Lie

 

All vacant lots have become jardines del pueblo

We plant our souls in the soil

So we can reap the revolution

With no apologies complaints or do overs

Mix blood with water in the dirt

So our past can fertilize the future

 

Tomorrow will bloom like bouquets of Pa’lante

Allowing the peoples smiles to blossom

 

Every streetlight will have inspirational quotes

From our freedom fighting writers

De La Vega will sidechalk Become Your Dream

Raimundi Ortiz will capture our heroes in murals

Yasmin Hernandez will paint each every soul rebel

 

Telephone booths will become recording studios

To create the next Cantante India or Pun

 

Newspapers should have a daily quote from Albizu

To affirm the lifelong quest for freedom

 

All diplomas will come with a pastele attached

So you can feed your mind and body

 

Bacardi will sterilize all wounds

Don Q might make you feel better

 

If your child is acting up

There are break in case of emergency chancletas

For all neighbors to use on sinverguenzas

 

Chupacabras are the boogiemen

Who invade the dark and crawl under your bed

Keeping you afraid of the unknown

 

Use your Dylcia and Filiberto nightlights

To push you to be brave

 

Ramon Emetario Betances

Said that no man should ever be a slave

Nor should your mind be trapped in a cage

 

I was told that freedom is like air

Either you have it or don’t

 

Miles from the enchanted island

Still trying to get back home

 

Where the trees stand testimony to our triumph

Coquis create the sound of blood through veins

 

We must leave a legacy

Showing that we conquered as they came

 

But our statues will be dancing salsa

Even our piedras will be insane


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