The Poland in my Heart

@KarermIBarratt

Venezuelna protest 8

(To Venezuela)

 

I am walking in a march,

My body ring by the snipper’s eye.

One, two, more on the top

Of buildings and shops,

All of them knowing that I know.

I am going to die.

Today, tomorrow, the day after that,

On these streets, which are mine,

By right, by birth, by choice,

The streets I am not yielding

To their hate or fright or power hunger,

My streets, my land, my home,

My tomb perhaps.

 

I am walking just the same.

 

The dictator’s face watches over

Me like a mock angel, a travesty

Of protection, from billboards

And posters hanging on street lamps.

My lamps, my street, my life, my right.

And I am too angry to be afraid:

Too jaded, too tired of waiting, talking,

Voting, running, fearing, negotiating.

 

And I am not surrendering

The Poland in my heart.

 

I will no stay put and see it

Being violated by ideological tanks,

Flaring bullets, gas attacks.

Sorry Herr Hitler, a la Tropical.

I am fighting back.

I’ll bring down hell onto your realm.

I’ll bring the fire and the burn,

I’ll bring these walls down,

Reduce your temple to rubble,

Rob the dream from your sleep

And paint crow’s wings under your eyes.

 

Welcome to my World War.

 

I have nothing to lose.

You have tempted the desperate man.

The desperate people,

The desperate land,

Bruised, bound and bloody.

But still alive.

By martyring our saints, you

Unchained the buried demons in our hearts.

We are your legion.

And we are not hiding back.

Fleeing nowhere, vanishing

Into no darkness, drowning not

In the deep.

 

We have drank our

Tears and become the sea.

 

Your tsunami, we are, extending,

Deluging, destroying your all,

Your flags and false swastikas,

Your Caribbean Third Reich,

The jail of fear where you locked us,

Broke us, danced over our hopes.

And for those who fall, ten as many

Will rise, up, ready to paint your world red,

Scorch it to ashes, ambitions shrunk to dread,

At the cost of our blood, our old, our babes’ breath.

There is no turning back.

We will detonate the bomb and set  the armoury ablaze.

We will die. We will burn. Create fortresses with our dead.

 

But we shall not surrender the Poland in our hearts.

 

protesta-concentracion-marcha-oposicion-6a

 

 

 

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