We were going through our archives today and came across this wonderful poem. It was published around 2009 but written much earlier. We hope that it is a call out to the artists in these parts. Hey folks you are being attacked by the new regime in DC and we are just wondering why all of the arts organizations from the mainstream to the alternative aren’t in the streets? Come on folks bring it on in a creative display, bring out your art, shout your poems, bring out your puppets, your floats, your music, your performance. Dance in the streets. Maybe if you asked Big Bird would come out. The time to act is before their move if you wait till after you have already lost the battle and gained nothing. Anyway here is the poem.
The Struggle Is Our Art
The world is our studio, gallery, museum
With our lives we paint the new day.
Our thoughts, words, deeds and actions
like hammer and chisel shape reality.
Our poems are as gentle as the spring falling rain
But also as terrifying as the raising flood waters.
Our brushes are ready to sweep away the dirt
that oppressors try to heap upon us.
Our song like the mighty thunder rolls
Alarming all that hides beneath the rocks.
Chasing it out into the light of day.
Away, Away, Away
The chorus sings against injustice.
The battle lines are drawn our erasers are ready
to clean the pages of mistakes.
Our dance a million feet non-stopping
To those who oppose, We are their danger and they shall know
No ba, ba, helpless little sheep are we
No stay in your place people
No going back from where we came
No saying, “Yes, Sir,” “Yes Sir”
For no sir you are not our baby.
And if you try to turn the clock back, we will smash the clock.
The struggle is our art.
While we were writing this a thought came to Emma O. Furbird, “Would you mind publishing what we think has been one of the greatest sculptures of all time. One that we need to see more and more of, Defiance is never out of style.”