Riot Grrrl
Bluelighter
Poland 1981: An ode to Immigrants
This is a poem I wrote about my family escaping Poland in 1981 due to political uproar and sever food shortages.
My father, mother and brother were the only people from my entire family to escape before matrial law set in.
Alone in the tower, every hour of the day
His spirit was free as he let his trumpet play
Higher and wider, as the notes would fill the sky
The melody so familiar, to each passer by
Below in the city, they’re pace far from slow
As political angst had started to grow
Nation in revolt, economy to collapse
Soviets waiting for revolt to elapse
People in panic, were taking to the street
Longing for freedom, a future they could meet
Riots had started, but the army was tough
The time had now come, when enough was enough
The trumpet player fled, not to serve his country
For his wife and baby were constantly hungry
He begged her to come; he heard word from inside
He had found a place where the family could hide
For three days later all the borders would close
The family was safe in the path they chose
Mama held the baby, as she began to cry
Reminiscing that day when she said goodbye
To the country that had once been their motherland
New breed of government, is playing at hand
They broke the communist monopoly of power
Hence why they still suffering up to this hour?
As the years had passed, 23 to be exact
That the trumpet player never did go back
This is a poem I wrote about my family escaping Poland in 1981 due to political uproar and sever food shortages.
My father, mother and brother were the only people from my entire family to escape before matrial law set in.
Alone in the tower, every hour of the day
His spirit was free as he let his trumpet play
Higher and wider, as the notes would fill the sky
The melody so familiar, to each passer by
Below in the city, they’re pace far from slow
As political angst had started to grow
Nation in revolt, economy to collapse
Soviets waiting for revolt to elapse
People in panic, were taking to the street
Longing for freedom, a future they could meet
Riots had started, but the army was tough
The time had now come, when enough was enough
The trumpet player fled, not to serve his country
For his wife and baby were constantly hungry
He begged her to come; he heard word from inside
He had found a place where the family could hide
For three days later all the borders would close
The family was safe in the path they chose
Mama held the baby, as she began to cry
Reminiscing that day when she said goodbye
To the country that had once been their motherland
New breed of government, is playing at hand
They broke the communist monopoly of power
Hence why they still suffering up to this hour?
As the years had passed, 23 to be exact
That the trumpet player never did go back
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