by Benjamin Romeo Massiel Dymonds
Hear Me Now
I see them gas masks and tear gas,
helmets, vests, black boots.
I see them faces covered for protection,
hands raised in a plea not to die,
to be heard in a society of forced silence,
trying to remember a lost truth, who we are
as a people.
I see them massed together of one accord,
Black, White, Brown,
Indian, Irish, Jamaican.
Standing for a stand, their passion in tears,
a waterfall.
We will not rest!
We want equality!
Howard to Harvard Morehouse to Ferguson
Philadelphia to Sanford, Florida New York City to San Francisco.
I see them.
I see them hoodies on, faces proud,
standing for sons and brothers. Do not back down!
Children holding signs proclaiming they matter
In the face of a government refusing to see them
as people, not industrial slaves
hibernating on federally funded million dollar blocks.
I see them hear their unanswered questions.
What are you afraid of?
Afraid of the white man’s police?
I see them I am Michael Brown.
I am Tamir Rice. I am Trayvon Martin.
I am Keyarika Diggles. I am Pedro Albizu Campos.
I am Black Lives Matter.
I see them!
I see it the coming race war, not about race,
transcendence, of slavery, racial segregation, lies and corruption
transferred into classism.
I see it the inferior mindset of Willie Lynch’s plan
that became hereditary as ages came and went,
now devolved into courage and curiosity.
I see them fists raised in allegiance,
the tipping point for change and justice,
not a footnote in a college thesis.
I see them searching for hope
while others take affront to their audacity,
so victims like Eric Garner and Sandra Bland
will receive justice in a society where they are deemed equal.
We are born for liberty.
We are born for equality.
We are born for unity.
We are born for freedom!
So I see them beyond the portrait,
and I hear them beyond their words.
Hear me now!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born and raised in Philadelphia, Benjamin Romeo Massiel Dymonds is a visionary with a clouded vision. He considers himself eight winters old—not in age, but beginning when his daughter returned to him, the day he learned to love others, and most importantly, the day he learned to love himself. Dymonds’ words are his voice, his pain, and his joy. Most significantly, they describe where he’s been, where he is, and where he’s going. He invites you to walk with him. ?