Freedom

by Karla   Jul 5, 2012


When I was young,
my father used to bring home a newspaper
that we read almost in the dark as if
we were committing the worst crime
in the world. I loved the idea of being
a conscious criminal. Our hearts trembling,
our eyes assaulting each word indecently.
We - accomplices of a perfect crime.
-It was freedom-
Not the freedom we could dream
we would possibly have some day.
But the freedom of those who
slept like kings and got up like fools
on April1st, 1964.
I remember how free we all were
behind the curtains, in the dusk
when George Orwell's big brother
was sleeping or denouncing another
neighbor.
When I look back in time and
see this new generation suffering
from amnesia, I am grateful.
I know the high price we had
to pay to have our tongues back again.
So I savor this delicate word
with faith, thinking about my father
who never bent, who gave me
my first pair of wings when all we could do
was to crawl.

Karla Bardanza

This poem is a tribute to my Father.

http://asmoonsewsthesatinstars.blogspot.com
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http://embracingthegoddessforever.tumblr.com

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Latest Comments

  • 12 years ago

    by Xanthe

    I love the vivid imagery you created with this piece. I felt as though I was there with you as well.
    The ending was just beautifully written, Karla. My favorite part. This is a lovely tribute, thank you for sharing it with us :)

  • 12 years ago

    by L

    Freedom, it's to feel free!
    And not be worry about being punish for doing something who every one can do. Such as reading, writing, informing one self, etc.

    Amazing piece and a great one to honor your father.

  • 12 years ago

    by Lioness

    Karla, I don't know what to say about this piece. It has really opened up my eyes about the freedom of people and how not everyone gets to feel it. Your first few lines reminds me of how things are omitted from the government to the people of whichever country it is. They only show what media they want their people to see and hide everything else because if people knew what was going on they would have stood up to it. I read something similar (not the poem but the idea) of this recently. I was looking up information about the Japan Tsunami and I was shocked that the people of Japan weren't informed properly of what was going on. There was this guy on youtube who was saying that they had normal tv shows on tv and that the news wasn't saying much which I thought was strange. He was saying that other countries were reporting what happened more than what Japan did.

    Anyways your poem reminded me of that. The last two lines were amazing. I love how you said that your father gave you your first pair of wings when all you could do was crawl. This piece is powerful and not only does it bring a large issue to the readers but I can also see the respect that you have for your father as well.

    AWESOME, AWESOME, AWESOME!!!

    x

  • 12 years ago

    by nouriguess

    You are a very charming woman, Karla. This speaks of freedom, your father, injustice, fear, worry and oppression. Dictatorship is the worst thing ever and I thank God that here, in my country, we have the utmost of democracy and freedom. It isn't a crime to read, to learn, to be free, to hold a newspaper and know what is happening in this world. But those 'who slept like kings and got up like fools on April1st, 1964' are the reason.

    You must really feel proud of this write. I know I do.

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