Survivors

by Kathryn Waddell Takara

for June Jordan


I.

I am no longer alone.

Resolve. Not to run on hatred, but love,

love for the sake of the people I love.

Live.

The presence of human life

the miracle of survival

amidst concrete playgrounds

skeletons of welfare and drugs

mutilated products of racism

people who experience ignorance, deprivation and horror

on a daily basis.


I am no longer alone.

Poetry by oppressed children and dreamers

continues to appear like love.

Live.

“I would like to go

where the golden apples grow.

Where the sunshine reaches out

touching children miles about

where the rainbow is clear in the sky

and passersby stop as they pass by.”

Deborah wrote that. She was 8. She was poor.

She also wanted to travel.


I am no longer alone.

Resolve. Not to run on hatred, but love,

love for the sake of the people I love.

Live.

Questions of freedom and identity appear like dreams.

How can I be who I am?

How can I know and realize my potential,

be other than I am?


The Diaspora, the Exodus

the drums of victims

of destruction, of power

of overwhelming circumstance

living testimonies of injustice, indifference

and vicious consequences.

What took you so long to awaken?


II.

I am no longer alone.

Resolve. Not to run on hatred, but love,

love for the sake of the people I love.

I am alive and sacrosanct,

potential exists, power.


Move into the community of moment

toward the self. But who am I?

Individualism can consume like sleep

separating people, community, spirits.

The self unconscious masquerades like a fool

falls, becomes a victim, full of fear.


I am no longer alone.

Live. Victims revolt, become agents, subjects

collectively choose new verbs, new actions,

new symbols, invent double-speak and nurturing strategies.


I am no longer alone.

Resolve. Not to run on hatred but love,

love for the sake of the people I love.

Despite class analysis, exploitation of human life

for material gain and profit

despite egregious metaphor of Justice

I live blindfolded.

I try to balance the fate of the living

try to protect the victims.


III.

I am no longer alone.

Love to live, to survive.

So what if I work, speak correctly and dress très chic

like the powerful,

if I am no longer me, if I am silent to the needs

of the larger community

if I entertain delusions of ego

and no longer recognize who I am

where I am from, who my ancestors were.


If I no longer care,

victory is pyrrhic

and this is not survival.

I am no longer alone.

We are survivors!


We are strong to answer

on our own political terms

political as in group, as in community

as in language, as in power, as in life.

We assert and affirm new paradigms

praxis of the dispossessed

values, lifestyles, based on balance.


I am no longer alone.

Sisters and brothers conspire to understand

the processes of self-preservation, development

and forgiveness.

We demand and assume freedom

to stay alive to make life,

to incorporate new life into our lives.

We must arise collectively and assume responsibility

for the endangered ones.


I am no longer alone.

Seeking connections of love through self-love.

Then, I can love “the other.”

Revolutionary correspondences and distinctions

between what hurts me and who,

between what I am trained to accept and reject

or simply ignore,

between bribes and rewards.

Seeking to understand the tensions between us.


I am the critic, the lover, the nurturer

Archetypes all, myths all.

I am the poet, the creator, the chronicler.

I am here and I am there.

I feel the pain, I am pain.

I become yin and yang, you and me,

Both intrinsic to the struggle.


IV.

I am no longer alone.

There must be hundreds, thousands, millions

who feel as I do.

But  how to connect our struggles and goals?

Hunger and famine affect 800 million,

a majority are women, a majority are Third World

or are we the First World?

How to connect with the dispossessed?

If I am dispossessed, so are you too.


The bonding has occurred in our humanness,

in our rituals, in the process of healing.

Solitary efforts soothe the conscience,

but do little to change the scale

of human misery.


How to connect with the victims?

We are all victims. How to scrape and axe away

at the minority status quo,

at the suffering syndromes of poverty, disease, despair?


We seek to be free,

to be who we are without fear,

without humiliation, without suffocation.

Free to assume fulfillment of our dreams,

To be responsive and responsible

for every aspect of our human beingness,

free to give to each of our lives a consecration

without equivocating, without sorrow.

We act on a moral and political stage.


I know I am no longer alone.

Resolve. Not to run on hatred, but love,

love for the people I love.

Live. Life. A celebration of community

where Joy transcends

like sisterhood, like brotherhood,

like struggle, like us.


We are no longer alone.

This is a perspective.

This is a faith.


Copyright Notice

© 2026 Kathryn Takara. All rights reserved.

Unless otherwise credited, the original poems, writings, and other creative works displayed on this website are the intellectual property of Kathryn Takara. No part may be reproduced, republished, distributed, adapted, or used commercially without prior written permission from the copyright holder, except as permitted by applicable copyright law, including fair use.

Third-party materials remain the property of their respective copyright holders. For permission requests, please contact Kathryn Takara through this website.


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