Reflections On Sunday
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
really 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 guitars
long hair-funky voice (some said Bessie Smith came to mind)
hair-all lengths, legs, arms, music
SISTERS-and us...
raggedy pea coats, cotton dresses, rocking,
swaying,
screaming
enjoying it-
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 guitars,
horns flute-voice-cowbell-tambourine demand
for freedom with an unspoken right-on
...a feeling 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 see
sexism that rapes us of our womanhood...
and the locks, keys, windows, walls
threats
warnings
bribes that hard our hearts
and chain our souls
the time
must be
seized
venceremos!
Erika Huggins
Niantic Concentration Camp
Conneticut
This poem was written shortly after an all women's band played at Niantic.
Article
Subjects
Freeing John Sinclair
Old News
Ann Arbor Sun