Call Us What We Carry

Call Us What We Carry by Amanda Gorman Read Free Book Online Page A

Book: Call Us What We Carry by Amanda Gorman Read Free Book Online
Authors: Amanda Gorman
B
    But distance is the total length
    Of the path an object takes:
    AB
    How far Sisyphus pushes that rock
    Up its murky mound,
    As well as the route it rolls down again.
    A poem & how it runs
    Through the body before leaving
    Us something slightly more than we were.
    Simply put, the rise & fall matter,
    Conjoined, not canceling,
    Expansion, not erasure.
    It is only then that we can understand
    How our distance from our worst selves
    Is centuries & yet
    We have not been displaced.
    Yes.
    We have gone further than we’ve come.
----
    * * *
    A part of ourselves is still barbed
    & barbaric, a wired complex of greed.
    There is also the element that is
    Guided by good,
    The way our blood
    Is bracketed by veins.
    According to legend,
    There are two wolves inside us:
    One half that must be fought
    & one that must be fed.
    One that must fall
    & one that must never fail.
    B.
    That wretched summer
    We were distempered as dogs,
    But to be disturbed is to be moved,
    Pushed toward progress.
    Our disgust is a measurement
    Of distance, a distaste for what was.
    It is to grasp that we must never go back.
    History is fractured & fractal.
    Even when we’ve succumbed,
    We have not surrendered.
    We might fall.
    We might rise,
    Distant but undisplaced,
    Traveling further than we shift.
    What matters most is that
    We find each other
    In the lit-up spacebetween.

FURY & FAITH
For my particular grief
    Is of so flood-gate and o’er-bearing nature
    That it engluts and swallows other sorrows
    And it is still itself.
    —William Shakespeare, Othello

AMERICA™

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FURY & FAITH
    You will be told this is not a problem,
    Not your problem.
    You will be told now is not the time
    For change to begin,
    Told that we cannot win.
    But the point of protest isn’t winning;
    It’s holding fast to the promise of freedom,
    Even when fast victory is not promised.
    Meaning, we cannot stand up to police
    If we cannot cease policing our imagination,
    Convincing our communities that this won’t work,
    When the work hasn’t even begun,
    That this can wait,
    When we’ve already waited out a thousand suns.
    By now, we understand
    That white supremacy
    & the despair it demands
    Are as destructive as any disease.
    So when you’re told that your rage is reactionary,
    Remind yourself that rage is our right.
    It teaches us it is time to fight.
    In the face of injustice,
    Not only is anger natural, but necessary,
    Because it helps carry us to our destination.
    Our goal is never revenge, just restoration.
    Not dominance, just dignity.
    Not fear, just freedom.
    Just justice.
    Whether we prevail is not determined
    By all the challenges that are present,
    But by all the change that is possible.
    & though we are unstoppable,
    If we ever feel we might fail,
    If we be fatigued & frail,
    When our fire can no longer be fueled by fury,
    We will always be fortified by this faith,
    Found in the anthem, the vow:
    Black lives matter,
    No matter what.
    Black lives are worth living,
    Worth defending,
    Worth every struggle.
    We owe it to the fallen to fight,
    But we owe it to ourselves to never stay kneeling
    When the day calls us to stand.
    Together, we envision a land that is liberated, not lawless.
    We create a future that is free, not flawless.
    Again & again, over & over,
    We will stride up every mountainside,
    Magnanimous & modest.
    We will be protected & served
    By a force that is honored & honest.
    This is more than protest.
    It’s a promise.

ROSES
    Riots are red
    Violence is blue
    We’re sick of dying
    How ’bout you

THE TRUTH IN ONE NATION
    That telltale luminescent green vest—
    His bike, cruising leisurely a second before,
    Skidded     to     a     ha     l     t
    Like a DJ’s hand on his turntable.
    The hunter had made his mark.
    Mark the world & make it his.
    Though we had nothing to hide,
    We performed our innocence for him,
    Placed it on full display like a buffet platter.
    Here. Feast your eyes on thi

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