Visit Your Local PBS Station PBS Home PBS Home Programs A-Z TV Schedules Watch Video Support PBS Shop PBS Search PBS
Independent Lens
RSS Search Indie Lens

About Program Guide Video Community Cinema Classroom Your Lens Inside Indies


EVERY CHILD IS BORN A POET: The Life and Work of Piri Thomas




Softly, Puerto Rican, You Ain’t Alone

Softly, Puerto Ricans, you’re not alone. Muchos estan contigo and you've got a home.

Keep up your strength, fight cold attitudes. It's a reformed blast you take, making no sweat, you lay your kick down, and make like a mighty man.

Flex your breath of life, talk about your breeze and forget-you-nots. Write your say about sidewalks dirty. Scribble your mean messages on dingy hallway-walls. Express your aptitude and limit not its call.

Curl your eyeballs around a world just so big. Squeeze all you can, a drop at a time, and maybe cry a little bit, it could be worse.

Softly, Brothers and Sisters, you're not alone. Muchos estan contigo and you've got a home.

Make a young thing effort to dig your means, know your beauty and watch your scenes. Awake a dream not unkind to you.

Rise above gray-black chimney curling smoke. Suck your belly in and hold your breath. Open wide your soul-ish eyes, and behold a rainbow that is you.

Drip of a drop, Don't name it a tear, hard to cry with tears, harder without. To smother a sob without a sound, to bite your forefinger in helplessness, and cry out:

'Hey! Where's a pill I can take to cure this? What's the doctor's name? What operation can save me?

Hey, stop making such a roar, you cats, can't you dig I'm talking for you too?

Oh gee, if I only had three wishes, like the fairy tales put it down, I'd wish it could be different, I'd wish it would be different, I'd wish that I could keep on wishing that hallways would have better lights to show up the dirt and slime, that streets could smile to make the roar a hum, that rumbles would be lessened and eventually be forgot, that all races be as one, and all could speak in loving tongue. That the cause of all the sorrows, hate, would turn to love. That a crushing blow of anger would be a caressing warmth, that all of America be real cool beneath this hot hate sun. That there'd be a real club with all the names as one, And all the brothers and sisters belong, without the war cry, "The Shit's On."

I wish that there'd be no more madres to mourn for her good girl or boy. That all the tears of sorrow, would turn to ones of joy. That all the wanting to be so bad, would be a long lost lie, to blend together heart and mind, to jump for justice all at once. No more play for the bad-ass rep, just a real cool guy. I’d wish, I’d wish, twinkle, twinkle, diddy-bops, how I’d wish all this hate would stop. Punto!

<< Back to


top

View Video

Home | The Film | The Poet | Nuyorican Literature | Filmmaker Bios | Filmmaker Q&A | Learn More | Talkback | Site Credits


IL Home Home | About | Program Guide | Video | Community Cinema | Classroom | Your Lens | Inside IndiesContact Us Get the Newsletter
Pressroom     © Independent Television Service (ITVS). All rights reserved. | PBS Privacy Policy | Terms of Use | Credits

Get The Video Talkback Learn More Filmmaker Q&A Filmmaker Bios Nuyorican Literature The Poet The Film EVERY CHILD IS BORN A POET: The Life and Work of
Piri Thomas