For a long time,
the Spanish youth occupied public squares in every city across Spain. They
fought for jobs, civil rights, democracy, and a chance to be
heard.
I dedicate this poem to my friends and their cause
The sounds of revolutionary cries outside the window
I can hear as clear as the morning after a storm
We’re in the thick of it now
Slow boiling, like a pot on the stove
The buzzing of a hundred tongues chanting as one
We Will Not Be Moved No vamos No mudamos
Speaker phones blare the message to the world
Silent firecracker waiting to explode into an idea
A movement is beginning to bubble up
as quickly as the tents we set up for the sit-ins
listen to the sizzle of the sun on our concrete bedrooms
the beads of sweat roll down faces enthralled with a sense of injustice
We Will Not Be Moved
Rings true in the songs, in our laughter, in the words sprawled on the walls
In the secrets whispered in the halls
Did you hear the message, the message, did you hear?
Under one cause we have banded
We’re in the thicket of protest against unemployment
For social liberties, for rights
We thirst for freedoms we were promised
Living in the plaza square,
we have let our labors soak into the ground our bare bodies sleep on in unison
smell the stench of determination
hopefully our hope will change them
let them see that we are here
and we will not be moved.
June 26, 2011 Spain
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